Firenze
1454
Over the last few months of her first pregnancy, Maria Auditore was little less than a whirlwind of activity. She set about ordering new curtains for the palazzo windows, picking out new dining sets, choosing and setting up the bedroom for the baby and sewing new infant clothes. She was a bundle of energy, and even as her belly grew increasingly large and her feet swelled considerably, she continued to carry out her role as a relatively new wife and upcoming mother with enthusiasm.
At that moment though, she was just enjoying the rare moment of peace she got with her husband, Giovanni. Between his meetings with Lorenzo de Medici, his missions for the Order and Maria's own preparations, the two hardly got any time together, anymore.
Now, however…Maria was enjoying every second she was able to steal away with him. She gave a sigh of satisfaction and let her head tilt against the sofa back. Her toes wiggled teasingly. Giovanni smiled and took the hint, increasing the pressure.
"Let it never be said that you slowed down in the slightest." He told her, arching an affectionate eyebrow. She smiled, her face positively glowing.
"I should hope not. There is far too much to do." She placed her hands over her bulging belly and gazed down at it. Giovanni shifted and leaned forward, intertwining his fingers with hers. He met her eyes, his own suddenly serious.
"You do not have to do it all. Annetta is here when I'm not…" By the tone of his voice it was clear he desperately wanted to stay with her more. Although he loved his job and was loyal to the Order, there were times all he wanted to do was be at his wife's side. Especially now that they were expecting their first child and like any other first-time father, he worried constantly about his wife's delicate condition. Maria took this all in her typical good humor, often teasing him that he was suffocating both her and the baby.
Of course, she wouldn't have had it any other way.
"I know." She thoughtfully brushed his cheek with her hand. "And she is a wonderful help to me." She assured him. He smiled and slipped his hand around to support the back of her neck, leaning in. Maria humored him, kissing him sweetly before her eyes settled on something over his shoulder.
"Giovanni?"
"Si, mia cara?"
She grinned, briefly nuzzling his cheek. "The drapes. They are uneven."
He blinked at her, than glanced back. He gave a heavy mock-sigh. "…so they are." He stood, stretched, and obediently went over to fix them.
"Maria, something escapes me. If we are receiving new curtains, what does it matter of these ones are offset?"
"Perhaps you will understand when you're older, caro."
Giovanni clicked is tongue in disapproval. Maria laughed and let her feet down, carefully standing up. She went over to her husband, who finished straightening the curtains per her specifications and slipped his arms around her.
"You are going to make a wonderful father…"
"I hope so."
Maria took him firmly by the chin, switching over to her no-nonsense tone of voice.
"You will." He grinned, chuckling.
"You sound like a mother already."
"Practice makes perfect, tesoro." Giovanni bumped his forehead lightly against hers, gently brushing back her hair.
"I hate to bring this up now, but…"
She pulled her face back. She knew that expression. "You have to go."
"Tomorrow evening. Just for the night though – I'll be back before you wake up." He absentmindedly fingered her hair, speaking faster now. "I am not leaving Firenze. And I won't -"
"Giovanni!" His wife interrupted with an amused laugh. "It is alright! I assure you – I will not fall to pieces the second you leave." She stroked his face. "I love that you share such concern…but you have another very important job, and that is to make Firenze safe for our child."
He lowered his eyes, setting a callused but gentle hand on his wife's swollen stomach before leaning over to lightly kiss it. Maria felt a happy blush rise in her cheeks.
"I promise I will." He assured both her and – she knew – his child.
"Prometto."
Maria wouldn't necessarily admit it – not to Giovanni, anyway – but she did hate it when her husband was gone. Granted, she wasn't delicate enough to need him every moment of the day. She prided herself on being a fairly strong, independent woman. She knew she had to be.
But it didn't make it any easier during times like this. True, she knew that he had asked a friend of his from the bank and the Capitano di Sicurezza, Juliano, to watch over his home and, by extension, his pregnant wife. Maria liked and trusted Juliano. But she found herself fretting over her husband's safety more and more with each passing day and each new assignment he had to undertake. Mornings when he came home with blood on his robes and tunic were the worst. Rarely was he ever injured, but it was the possibility…the chance that she could be left widowed with a new child at twenty-two… Now that Maria was actually going to be a mother, it was the first time she had really thought about these sorts of things. And those very thoughts chilled her to the bone and kept her awake long into the night.
…and yet…all it took was for him to pull her into his comforting arms, sweetly kiss her neck, and swear to her that he would not be going anywhere anytime soon, and she would once more feel safe in his tender reassurance.
That night, she rested in bed as she watched him prepare for yet another mission. She forced a smile as he slipped into his white and red robes, bending down to pull on his scuffed and worn boots. Maria made a mental note to herself to see that they were replaced soon, but a painful twist in her gut interrupted her thoughts. She shifted uncomfortably, her light brow furrowing. Giovanni straightened, immediately noticing his wife's discomfort.
"Maria?
"I'm alright…" Another strained smile. "He's just being…active…tonight."
He frowned, kneeling down beside her and laying his hand on her stomach. "This has not been normal for you." He pointed out, concern showing on his face.
"N-no, but…" She winced again.
"I do not have to go."
"You don't have to stay." She whimpered, sucking in a breath.
"I think I do." He said stiffly. Maria looked to him, her own deep brown eyes growing large.
"I – I think I need…the doctor!..."
He nodded quickly. Inside he was as close to a panic as he'd ever get, but outwardly he remained calm and composed. For his own wife's sake.
"I know. I will fetch dottore Ottavio. Annetta will get you anything you need." He kissed her hastily, than hurried out the bedroom door. He met a worried Annetta at the bottom of the bottom of the stairs, instructing her to stay by Maria's side until he returned, and to do anything she could to make her comfortable. Having already delivered two children for her past employers by the age of fifteen, Annetta grabbed a warm blanket and a bowl of hot water before racing up the stairs. Giovanni didn't see this – he was already out the door, venturing out into the dim evening twilight.
Doctor Ottavio was a gifted physician. Born as the son of the most sought-after practitioner in all of Toscana, as well as the most widely trusted midwife, Ottavio was taught medicine from a very early age. By twelve he was his father's personal aid and finest apprentice. Upon inheriting his father's practice at the age of nineteen, Ottavio up and moved it from the San Gimignano countryside, into the very heart of Tuscany itself – Florence.
As fate would have it, his first evening in the city he was attacked by a rogue group of mercenari, looking for both money and something to keep them entertained. When he opened his eyes again, all five men were dead, their throat slit, and a man in a white cloak was leaning over one of them, giving what seemed to be Last Rites. The young doctor climbed to his feet, trembling and clutching his badly damaged bag.
"Did…did you rescue me, Signore?" He was embarrassed by the shakiness of his voice, but it had been the first time anything like this had happened to him. After having been in the city for less than a day, he was already beginning to rethink his decision to move here. The stranger stood, regarding the nervous man with a calm-inducing smile. Ottavio barely contained his amazement – his rescuer was little more than a boy, himself!
"Are you alright?"
"Si… I – I think so." He cleared his throat. "I am. Grazie. I…cannot thank you enough for what you've done."
"You need not thank me." The man held up a single gloved hand in protest. "I promise you will not be bothered again."
"What is your –" The doctor blinked. The stranger was already gone.
That had been seven years ago. Ottavio had long since learned the name of his savior – Giovanni Auditore. And he had more than just a suspicion that the man wasn't just a mere, albeit, successful, banker from Monteriggioni. Which was perhaps why the man wasn't the least bit surprised when Giovanni turned up on his doorstep close to midnight, wearing a cloak that hid his face, as well as an interesting assortment of blades and other various sharp objects. Unfortunately, this time it was not a laceration, or badly twisted ankle that fueled his desperation.
Maria. His wife was pregnant and possibly in labor. Ottavio didn't need any urging – he grabbed the leather bag he kept close at hand for emergencies and followed the anxious man to his thankfully nearby palazzo.
"Maria, amore… I am here." Giovanni assured his sobbing wife as soon as they'd arrived and thundered up the stairs. Annetta stepped aside to let him over, having been gripping the poor woman's hand tightly in her own. The servant girl's face was ashen.
"She's been bleeding, Messer." She whispered. The normally composed young girl was struggling to keep her nerves steady. Giovanni only nodded to Ottavio, who took his place at Maria's feet.
"Have you been feeling contractions?"
The scared woman nodded, than looked confused. "I – I think so. I…si, dottore…" He smiled at her over the frames of his glasses.
"Stay calm, my child. I need you to relax so I may see what is going on."
"Can you save my baby?" Maria's voice came out a shaky, sob-strained whimper. The doctor lifted the blankets.
"I will do whatever I can." He said gently. "Maria…your body is trying to expel the child. You have to push."
"Already?" Panic was creeping in. Giovanni gripped her hands tightly in his. He leaned over to kiss her forehead, then met her eyes.
"Push, tesora. It will be alright."
"But…my baby isn't ready!..."
"Trust him. Trust me."
She forced back a sob, than nodded bravely. She cried out as she pushed as hard as she could. Giovanni encouraged her.
"Bene! You are doing well." He smiled, despite the cold dread he felt in the put of his stomach. Ottavio motioned for Annetta to hold the blankets steady as he tried to help the infant out. Maria gave a thin shriek, squeezing her eyes shut, and Ottavio quickly covered the mess with a blood-stained towel.
Maria did not need to see what had happened to her child.
Giovanni picked up a wash cloth Annetta had brought and soaked it in the water bowl before wringing it out and placing it on his wife's forehead. She peered up at him through fluttering lashes.
"Lei fatto buono." He murmured.
"Where…where's my baby?..." She whispered faintly. Giovanni sucked in a breath, raising his eyes to meet Ottavio's. The doctor gave a sad shake of his head.
"Our baby…isn't here." He said finally, brushing back his wife's damp hair from her face. She stared up at him with tearful, red eyes.
"Where is it?... Giovanni?..." Her voice dissolved into heartfelt pleas. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling a sharp ache of pain and sadness deep in his own heart. Both for his unborn child, and for his grief-ridden young wife.
"I am so…so sorry, my love…"
"…I…I killed my baby?..."
"No!" Giovanni was quick to take her face in his hands. Annetta discreetly lowered the blankets as Ottavio stepped back, gripping the bundle awkwardly. Annetta fetched him a cloth sack and he respectfully placed it inside. He met Giovanni's eyes, mouthing, 'be in touch'. Giovanni breathed in and nodded back. Ottavio left the bedroom, taking Annetta with him and granting privacy to the stricken couple.
"You must think me awful, Giovanni…"
"No! Never." He cradled her close to him, letting her sob against his chest. She couldn't speak, and Giovanni didn't feel she needed to. He didn't say anything – all he could do was be there for her. He held her tight, feeling her entire body shake.
It took Maria a very, very long time to fall asleep that night. But eventually she did, at the point where she was too exhausted, both emotionally and physically, and could no longer keep awake. Giovanni did, however. His mind was a jumble of sadness and unanswered questions. Why their child? Why Maria? Giovanni knew he risked his life on a regular basis, and yet their child was the one that perished. Giovanni felt his breathing grow faster until he forced himself to calm down. He was torn up inside…but he had to stay rational, for Maria. He felt her shifted and heard her whimper beside him. He soothed her gently, slipping onto the bed to rest beside her. He held her firmly in his arms, softly kissing the back of her neck. He felt her slowly relax, until she was deeply asleep once more. He closed his own eyes.
It was many hours before Maria again stirred. Giovanni determined it was late morning – perhaps around 11am, but hadn't thought to get up and check. Maria shifted and rolled over onto her back, lashes fluttering open. She blinked and then rubbed at her eyes to clear the sleep from them.
"I thought…for a moment that it was all a nightmare." She said softly.
"I'm afraid not, cara."
She swallowed hard, burying her face in his neck. "I'm been a terrible wife."
"Of course not." She gazed at him, nothing but absolute hopelessness in her eyes.
"There was nothing you could do." He licked his dry lips, unsure of what to say. What could possibly make her feel better in such a situation?
"Amore mia, I…" A soft knock at the door spared him. He raised his head. "Si?Chi l'è?"
"Annetta, Messere." There was a pause. "Signore Ottavio is here. He wishes to speak with you…" Giovanni could feel her waiting outside the door. He sat up.
"I will be right back." He murmured, placing a light kiss on his wife's head. She gave no indication she even heard him.
"Annetta?"
"Si?"
"Please, come in… Stay with Maria."
"Of course." The door opened, just far enough for the young girl to slide through. She smiled automatically, but it barely reached her eyes. She went to his wife's side, sitting down beside her. "Take all the time you need, Signore."
"I will not be long." He cast one more glance to his wife, than left the bedroom, padding down the stairs. Dottore Ottavio was waiting for him in the foyer. At his feet, just behind him, sat a cloth bag. Ottavio held out his hand to shake, and Giovanni returned it automatically, suddenly feeling as though he was in a daze.
"I am sorry to bother you, Signore."
"It's alright." Giovanni sounded tired. "Is that…?"
Ottavio slowly nodded in the affirmative. "It is. I…wasn't sure what your wishes were…" He cleared his throat. "If you would like, I could have the remains cremated. Or you may bury them, if you wish. Or…I could take care of it myself." He tilted his head to meet the taller man's eyes. "It is up to you."
Giovanni sucked in a breath, eyes on the bag. "What was it?"
"Signore?"
"The child." The doctor looked pained.
"…a girl, Giovanni." The Assassin closed his eyes and nodded.
"I am truly sorry. Both for you and your dear wife." The apology wasn't reflex. Ottavio witnessed children die all the time. But this one hit closer to home. And unlike all the other times, this time he felt at a complete loss for words.
"I think…it would be best if you took care of it." Giovanni felt the last thing Maria needed was a vase or a stone to mourn at. She may feel differently, but Giovanni had seen a lot in his life. A lot of death; a lot of pain. A lot of suffering and grieving. It would take time – days, months and years. But eventually Maria, and he himself, would heal. A marker wouldn't make it any easier.
"Of course." Ottavio bowed his head respectfully. "I understand."
Giovanni only nodded vaguely. Dimly, he felt the doctor's palm against his shoulder.
"Do take care of yourself, Giovanni. And your wife. And…do not hesitate to call on me if you need anything at all." Ottavio picked up the bag and quickly let himself out. Giovanni stood there in the foyer, feeling utter exhaustion finally creeping up on him. He returned to his wife and Annetta, who looked up and managed that same tiny smile.
"She has been very quiet, Signore."
"Thank you for staying with her."
"I am here to help in any way I can." She ducked her head and left the bedroom as quietly as she'd entered. Giovanni sunk back down onto the mattress beside his wife, feeling the steady ache in his muscles. He closed his eyes and lay his head beside hers, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair.
"…never blame yourself, darling… I will always love you."