This is the sequel to Templar Princess. If you haven't read it, I suggest it before being thrown into Kitty's crazy world full of names that may or may not make sense to you.

Here is the link, just copy and paste it into your browser: s/10968542/1/The-Templar-Princess

A/N: I do not own anything except my OCs.

Prologue:

March 23, 1784

"Your job here is complete, Katherine. Will you be returning to your husband in America?" the man across the bar asked the twenty-four year old woman who had been sitting quietly at the bar for three hours, drinking nothing, but providing good company and conversation for the barkeep. She had short, black, wavy hair that she wore pulled back like a man's and she wore breeches under her robes and an oval locket around her neck. To anyone who knew anything, she was recognizable as an Assassin, but, of course, this wasn't a very popular pub among the common rabble and only those who shared her leanings frequented it.

"Ah, yes, and say what? 'So sorry I left, Connor, but I had some business in England that I couldn't tell you about so I let you believe I was dead'? I'm sure that would go over like a tree," she hissed back, looking up at the man, a twisted scar that ran from the left corner of her mouth to just below her ear making her look scarier than she really was. "Wasn't even the job I thought I was signed up for, Bart."

"You did get here a few years late."

"Didn't plan on taking the job in the first place."

Bart chuckled, shaking his head, a cup and towel in his hand. Bart, short for Bartholomew, had owned his pub since he was sixteen when his father died; he was tall and strongly built with sparse, sandy hair and watery blue eyes. "So, do you ever plan on going back?"

"Maybe...it'd be a great birthday present for Dot or, more likely, the twins," she said with a shrug before pushing away from the bar and standing. "I've got to get back; some special meeting with guests of some sort."

"Have a good night, Katherine."

"Heh, right, I'll try," she muttered as she left the pub, pulling up her hood, and walked to the old manor she had been staying in. A small group had gathered in the drawing room and Katherine walked up to the only man she usually spoke to. "Hello, G-"

"Go up to your rooms, we don't need you in this meeting," Augustus whispered tensely in her ear, cutting her off. Augustus, or Gussy, as Katherine called him, was the man she had been taking orders from for the past two years; short, portly and balding, Katherine couldn't believe this man had ever been a successful Assassin "in his day."

"What? But I thought-"

"It's fine, more people came than we thought and you don't have anything new to report, do you?" Katherine shook her head, frowning. "Good, now go upstairs."

She huffed and walked upstairs to her room and flopped onto her bed without kicking off her muddy boots. Why had she been barred from this meeting? She hadn't really wanted to attend anyway, but that had never mattered before and Gussy had to have known she wouldn't have anything new to report since she had finished her mission more than a month ago and was scheduled to leave on a ship bound for America in less than a week. She was up and pacing after a few moments, her mind racing as it tried to work through what had happened downstairs. She made a soft frustrated noise before leaving through the window and jumped from rooftop to rooftop until she reached the edge of London; running from her thoughts had always been her forte and why change it now.

She liked being on the edge of town because she could see a forest from here, but she had yet to explore it because there had either been no time or the thought of returning to a place even resembling her deciduous home in America. She jumped from the rooftop and walked to the forest and found the nearest forked tree. Running through the trees, jumping from branch to branch, brought back memories of when Connor had taught her how to use trees like Master Kenway had taught her to use rooftops and clotheslines. She stopped and stayed in the fork of a tree, panting softly when she heard it, the soft crack of a twig under foot. She looked around, frowning at the darkness.

"Who's there?" she called, flicking her blades out. After a few tense seconds, she sensed rather than heard someone running back toward the city on the ground, away from her. She had probably ruined some tryst and scared the lovers off. She chuckled to herself as she made her way back to the edge of the forest.

How odd it was to look at the city from the forest rather than the other way around. It felt right to be back among the trees, but something was missing. Almost as soon as she thought it, memories of Connor were conjured up in her mind, but she shut them out, knowing her heart couldn't take it. She sat on a tree limb, leaning her head back against the reassuringly solid bark, not realizing how tired she was until she was already slipping into a dream.

"Kitty, come, look at Alexander," Connor called softly, standing in the doorway of the nursery.

Kitty laughed, standing beside him. "What is it, Ratonhnhakéton?" She looked into the nursery and saw Alex, Louis and Dot curled up together, asleep. "Oh, they're adorable..."

"I thought you would like it," he murmured, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her temple. "Should we move them?"

The dream disintegrated then as Katherine woke up gasping for air and feeling as though walls were closing in on her. She looked around herself, realizing she was still in the tree by some miracle, and that the sun was rising. She sighed and stood shakily before jumping out of the tree and walking toward the pub she always went to during the day and into the night.

"Good morning, Katherine. You're up rather early for having been at a meeting last night," Bart said, smiling at Katherine. "If we weren't both married, I'd say you were trying to get me ta court ya."

Katherine shook her head, chuckling softly. "I got kicked out of the meeting before it even began," she replied with a shrug. "And besides, I'm not really into barkeeps."

Bart laughed raucously, hands on his stomach and his head thrown back. "No, you're more into Native American Assassins," he said, shaking his head as two men walked in and took a table in the corner.

"What I'm 'into' is none of your business," Katherine snipped, taking her usual seat at the bar. She pulled her locket out from under her shirt and clicked it open, looking at the picture of Connor that occupied one half of the locket and the single feather in the other half. She gently caressed the picture, cradling the locket gently.

Bart was talking to the men in the corner, but she did her best to ignore him, her thoughts currently occupied with thoughts of home and how close she was to being back. When one of the men stood up suddenly, sending his chair skittering across the floor, Katherine turned slightly to look over her shoulder; the man was already on his way out, his hood pulled up. His companion apologized to Bart before following.

"What was that about?" she asked when Bart came back to the bar.

"They were asking questions," he said evasively, not looking Katherine in the eyes.

"Questions about...?"

"Well, they heard what I said about you liking Native American Assassins and they wanted to know your name and where you were from, but I told 'em if it was answers about you and yer life they were wanting, they should jus' ask you. Then the bigger feller got up all angry-like and stormed out," Bart explained, lowering his voice when another customer came in.

Katherine frowned. "You recognize either of them?"

Bart shook his head before walking over to attend to his customers and leaving Katherine with her thoughts. Why had those men been asking about her? She stood, then thought better of it, knowing they must be expecting her to go after them once she learned they were asking questions about her.

"Hey, Bart, you want help today?" she asked when he came back over.

"What? You suddenly a people person, now?" he asked, raising a bushy brow.

"Always have been, just not to you," she replied wryly before going to a table three men had just occupied.

Katherine spent her whole day going from table to table, handing out drinks and slapping away hands. She had never been a barmaid before, but she found that it came easily to her with her ease around new people and sarcastic attitude that kept people laughing. She stayed long after closing to help Bart put the chairs on tables, wipe off the bar and sweeping up the floor.

"I would offer you a job here if you weren't leaving soon," Bart said with a smile. "I know the real reason you stayed to help was so you wouldn't 'accidently' run into those men, though."

Katherine sighed, pushing back the hair that had come loose from the leather whang she had used to tie it back. "You caught me, Bart. I would rather not get in a fight when I'm about to go back home."

"I understand. Be careful on your way home," Bart said, gesturing to the back room where Katherine knew there was a ladder to the roof.

"I will, thank you, Bart," she said, smiling. "I'll just get my cloak."

She walked to the back room and climbed the ladder, stepping out onto the roof and breathing in the clean air. It took no time for her to make it back to the manor and into her room. She quickly brushed out her hair and braided it back up before going downstairs. She saw Gussy and sighed as she walked over to him. "Hey, Gussy-"

"What are you doing down here? Go back to room and make yourself scarce," he hissed, pushing her back to the stairs.

"Why are you shooing me upstairs like I'm a misbehaving child at a party?" Katherine growled back, standing her ground.

"Because there are people that don't...entirely believe your story," he shot back, his face saying more questions would not be answered until this threat, or perceived threat, was no more.

She groaned and stomped upstairs, feeling indeed like a child that had made one misstep and was being sent upstairs during a big party. Why should she have to hide in her room because there was someone who didn't believe she had truly converted to the Assassin ways? Or maybe they didn't believe she had overthrown the Templars that had been growing in Germany? Whatever it was they had arguments with, they could take them up with her; she shouldn't have to hide away in her place of residence because a guest had a problem with her story.

This time she stayed in her room rather than escaping to the fresh air on the rooftops and the forest. She lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking of her children back in America: Emmy and Eddy, her oldest set of twins, would be turning eight that year, Alex would have just turned five, Dot would soon turn three and Thaddeus and Theodosia, her younger set of twins, would have turned two on the first of that year. She had missed so much of all of their lives, how could she make that up? She was a mother and a wife first, then an Assassin, but two years ago, she had let her loyalties and her longing for adventure drive her to do the unthinkable.

Looking back on it now, it was selfish and childish of her to fake her own death just to escape to England and the Assassin's Guild there. Shame overcame her as she remembered he innocent children, knowing that they had had to live without a mother. What if they hadn't been living without a mother? a niggling voice asked in the back of her mind. No, Father Timothy and Doc White, the two people who knew of her deception, had promised to steer Connor away from any women that might try to throw themselves at her husband. This had always been reassurance enough before, but not it wasn't enough to satisfy her.

"I just want to go home..." she whispered, tears rolling down her pale cheeks. She rolled over and curled up in a tight ball, falling into a fitful slumber. She dreamed of Connor, just snatches, small pieces of memories that she had stuffed deep down to keep them from resurfacing.

She woke up drenched in a cold sweat, her breath coming fast and sharp. She sat up and looked at the slowly rising sun, letting it soothe her panicky mind. She moved about her room, packing her chest, unpacking it and repacking it again, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes. After an hour of multiple failed attempts to arrange her possessions in a way that pleased her, she left through the window and went back to Bart's pub.

"Hullo, Katherine!" Bart called when she walked through the door. She smiled at the friendly greeting and walked over the bar. "Are you actually going to drink today, m'dear?"

"Of course not, Bart, you know I hate the stuff," she shot back, shaking her head. "Have you seen those men again this morning?"

"No, but I somehow doubt they'll just let it lie; that one feller seemed real upset that I wouldn't admit nothing to him."

"You did a good thing protecting my identity, Bart."

Bart nodded and moved off to greet another customer. Even though Katherine allowed herself to be pushed around by Gussy, many of the other Assassins had taken to calling her "The Queen of Spades" or just "The Queen" because of all the men she had put in the ground since coming to England. A friend, Hezekiah, had gone to the colonies to look at the guilds that Connor was running and reported back that they all knew about the mythical "Queen of Spades" and desperately wanted to meet her. Gussy had pulled him aside later and informed him that no one from the colonies would ever be able to meet Katherine. It was hard knowing that Connor knew all about this legendary woman Assassin in England, but didn't know the most important part: this legend had once been his helpmate and would be again.

So lost in her own thoughts was she that when the pub went eerily quiet, she didn't notice at first. She turned and saw two soldiers standing in the door, shoulder-to-shoulder. She stood and glanced over at Bart whose brows were knitted together as he examined these newcomers. What could they want?

Well? What do y'all think? Please R&R...it makes me happy to see what y'all think.

You are all so, so amazing and I hope you enjoy the chapters to come.