Wow, it looks like I'm just way too excited for this story-so I wrote another chapter in less than 24 hours. Thank you all so, so much for the reviews and support so far! It means so much to me! But without further ado, please enjoy chapter 2 of My Eternity! I look forward to your comments and thoughts.

Lovino was met with his grandfather's disappointed stare. "Your mission was to return with considerable amounts of funds for the poor's living conditions this month. How on earth did you mess that up?"

Blood rushed to the Italian's face. He gazed down at his shoes in fear of meeting that stare again. Feliciano stood behind him and gave him a quick rub on the back for comfort. "Nonno, Signore Díaz was coming out of the armory and acting unusual." he said, surprisingly firm in his stance. He braved a glance up. "And Feliciano found out something the king's planning."

Grandpa Rome pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down. "And what might that be? Lovino, you must realize that you put our family in danger, especially your brother."

"He's trying to track down the Vargas family. The moron wants us gone for good." Lovino let out a shaky breath.

"...and he knows we're living in the south side of this town." Feliciano's voice piped up in concern.

Grandpa Rome rubbed his temples with his fingers and only groaned. His eyes drifted down to the elaborate yet old table-similar to him in a way. Grandpa had been getting older and older, and ever since the king had found out about the Vargas family and their Robin Hood-like intentions, stress had been piled onto his shoulders. He was the head of it all, anyway. Gray hairs were starting to sprout amongst the dark brown waves. Wrinkles now protruded on his handsome face. Even those who seemed to have partaken of the fountain of youth couldn't run away from age forever.

But the old man still had a young spirit in him. A determined one, and one that led to victory. The man lifted his head to eye his two grandsons before him. "You both know what will happen if they find us. There will be no mercy. Lovino and Feliciano," he spoke sternly, "I want you two to stay in hiding for a while. No more missions for as long as it takes to lead the king off our trail. Perhaps we should move our headquarters as well..."

"What?! You expect us to do nothing but twiddle our thumbs and sit on our sorry butts and wait? Heck no!" Lovino shouted rudely.

"Lovi!" Feliciano pleaded.

Lovino balled his hands up into clenched fists. "And what about the others, huh? Do they get to be the heroes and rescue us all because of a mistake I made? Will they get to run around with the family name but leave us in the dust waiting?! That's bull-"

"Lovino, that's enough!"

Silence overtook the room. Rome dared his grandson to shout again with the look in his eyes. "I made this decision based on the safety of my grandchildren, including you. Everyone below the age of twenty is not permitted to participate in any mission until this all blows over."

"T-The heck? I'm nineteen, you old man! Why twenty?"

"Because," the Vargas family head leaned towards the others, "I need mature thieves who don't disobey orders out on missions right now."

The older brother knitted his eyebrows together in anger. Grandpa Rome hadn't been this angry in ages. "Fine, do whatever you want, you old geezer," Lovino retorted in a mocking manner and stormed out of the room.

Feliciano jolted at the sound of the door slamming behind him. Rome sighed and leaned back, attention now on the seventeen-year-old. "Do you understand as well, Feli?"

"S-Sí, nonno. I understand. No more missions for a while."

The Spaniard wasn't exactly fond of who he was. If he could've been born into a poor family, took on farming for a living, and started a new family with a pretty woman, he would have been perfectly content with life. But within him was the blood of assassins. It had never been a surprise that he was to be a killer for a living.

But, Antonio was cunning enough to get what he could; he only took on missions that would require little bloodshed on his part, or none at all. He couldn't stand taking lives from other people-especially innocent ones. Thus, his tasks took on a spy approach: he would follow, eavesdrop, become a messenger, or kidnap targets. But only on this recent mission did he accept an assignment from the king and have to injure someone.

The Vargas family.

Antonio had heard of the notorious family before. But they usually worked in the shadows, stole from the rich, and had no business with assassins-so he never encountered them. But to undertake such a duty as to find one, bring him back so the king could get as much information out of them as possible...well, it was definitely something new. Yet after attacking a certain Vargas thief, the Spaniard had already grown fond of this mission.

Large, heavy doors swung inwards into the vast room by the king's guards. White marble decorated the floors, and gold trim accented the king's meeting room as the sun shone brightly through the windows. Antonio strode in, and took off his mask with respect to being in front of King Roderich and his queen, Elizaveta. He placed one knee on the floor before them, and one arm over his chest. "Your majesty," he proclaimed.

"As you were," Roderich ordered and crossed his arms under his purple robes. Antonio obeyed and stood up straight. "So? What is your message?" the king inquired. "Did you find them, Antonio?"

The hired assassin flashed his trademark smile. "But of course, my king. I found two, actually."

Roderich's eyebrow raised in satisfaction, and Elizaveta smiled at her king. "Bravo, I knew you would be the best assassin to hire. The other two assassins I've hired have proved to be quite worthless. They haven't found a speck of the Vargas family. Even-" the king turned to his queen, "-Gilbert, was it?" Elizaveta nodded. "Yes, Gilbert. He mistook Lord Arthur Kirkland as one of them." he rubbed his forehead with a gloved hand. "Why did we decide to hire him, dear?"

Elizaveta giggled beside him. "You are too serious. He is very entertaining, is he not?"

Antonio couldn't help but become amused at this conversation. He knew he was working alongside two other assassins he hadn't met yet, but so far it seemed that he was the one with most experience. But he was on a race against the clock, so he couldn't risk anything. The king had given them six weeks to capture a Vargas. It had already been two; it took long enough to finally come across one of the thieves. But when it came to the kidnapping...that would need some time. The Spaniard smirked at the thought of the feisty Italians.

Roderich took a step forward towards the other man. "Do you believe you'll have one of them in your hands by the end of the time constraint I've given you?"

Antonio pulled his black hood over his messy brown curls, and placed the mask back over his eyes. "But of course, your majesty."