Monteriggioni, 1476

Gianni heaved a soft sigh as she eased her horse up the pathway to Monteriggioni. It had been a long journey, but she was finally home. She couldn't wait to strip off her travel clothes and lie in the warmth of her soft bed. She'd been away for far too long. Though Zio Mario had been expecting her to be out for at least two months, she had managed to complete her mission in only one and even then most of it had been done traveling.

She quickly stabled her horse and made her way into the village. A smile touched her lips as Villa Auditore came into view. It was good to be home. She decided against using the front door because of the late hour, not wanting to cause an unnecessary alarm.

Leaving her mud-caked boots outside, she made the long ascent to her bedroom window, the light of the full moon easily guiding her. The window was open but Gianni was too tired to question it as she heaved herself into the room. She threw her coat on a nearby chair and began to carefully remove all of her blades before placing them in one of the drawers of her nightstand. Once she was sure they were all safely stored, she removed her pants, leaving on only her long travel shirt that reached to mid-thigh.

Pulling back the covers, Gianni crawled into her bed with a weary groan. Just as she was settling in, however, a long, muscular arm circled around her waist. She froze, instinctively reaching for the dagger she kept hidden under her pillow only to realize it wasn't there. She cursed under her breath, blaming her inattentiveness on the fact that she was tired.

It was things like this that got you killed. Though she noticed, rather belatedly, that whoever this stranger in her bed was, he was definitely not there to kill her. Her eyes trailed over the arm and up to the broad, and very naked, shoulder. He seemed to be in a deep sleep, nuzzling closer to her with what seemed like a very satisfied grunt.

"Mario really knows how to take care of his guests," the deep voice rumbled, and the man looked up at her with a sleepy grin.

Gianni hissed angrily at what the man was implying, then brought up her legs and pushed off his chest sending them both flying off the bed in opposite directions. She rolled off gracefully, reaching into her drawer in the process and grabbing a blade. The man landed with a loud thud and a very surprised and curse-ridden yelp.

"Who are you?" she asked, turning the blade in her hand so that it was hidden by the length of her forearm.

"Who are you?" he countered, struggling to disengage himself from the tangle of blankets before standing up irritably. "And what are you doing in my bed?"

"Your bed? This is my bed. I will ask you one more time. Who are you?"

"Or what? You'll kill me if I don't tell you?" he scoffed.

"If that's what it takes." She took a menacing step closer to him, gripping the blade in her hand.

"Silence," Mario's voice bellowed as he walked into room with a lighted torch.

It was only then that Gianni got a good look at the stranger as the torch illuminated the room. She was surprised to find that the man was young, maybe only a couple of years older than her. He looked strong and athletic, dark hair falling casually over his face as he stood there bare-chested and wearing only a pair of loose pants. It took only a few seconds to easily come to the conclusion that he relied on his handsome features to always get his way.

"Gi...Aquilina, what are you doing here?"

Gianni frowned at the use of her father's nickname for her - a name she hadn't heard in a long time - but said nothing. Mario had a reason for not using her given name, and she figured it had something to do with the stranger in the room.

"The...errand that you sent me on has been taken care of," she replied, not wanting to give away too much information.

Mario gave her a curt nod. "And a month in advance? Excellent."

"So am I wrong in assuming she wasn't sent here to warm my bed?" the stranger asked, clearing his throat. "Forgive me, but the way you're dressed..."

Gianni threw him a glare, noting from his amused expression that he was not sorry at all. Mario let out a hearty laugh, taking off his robe and tossing it to her. She quickly wrapped it around herself, face burning in embarrassment at having forgotten she was only wearing a thin shirt as a nightgown.

"This is Ezio, son of my...late brother, Giovanni," Mario explained. Gianni had heard very little about Mario's family in Florence and could only assume the worst at their sudden appearance in Monteriggioni. "He and his mother and sister will be staying for a while. I wasn't expecting you so soon, or I would've prepared another room for Ezio."

"I should've sent word," she replied apologetically. "I'll gather my things and stay in the village."

"Nonsense," Mario chastised. "We'll clear out one of the rooms downstairs. God knows we need to start cleaning and upkeeping this place before it falls apart on us. Let's just all go to bed, and we will work this out in the morning. Good night, Ezio."

Gianni followed Mario out of the room, not even bothering to look back at Ezio.

"What are you plotting?" she whispered to Mario once they were back downstairs. "You deliberately avoided using my name."

"Ezio has no idea he comes from a family of assassins," Mario said. "He will need to be taught gradually what is expected of him."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

Mario put a hand on her shoulder as they stopped outside her temporary room. "You will be the one teaching him."