(A note from the author: I'm very sorry about the long hiatus on this story! I got wrapped up completing a novel and working and other adult-life-type things. To make up for it here's an extra long chapter! More to come soon, I hope!)

Chapter 7

Connor pressed his body up against the stable as Emma rounded the corner to greet Achilles as he dismounted. He listened carefully to their interaction, waiting for the moment that he could move without being spotted.

"Achilles!" Emma's voice was warm.

"And just what are you doing out here alone, young lady?" Achilles of course wasted no time being suspicious. "I thought I put you in the charge of Anne and Charlotte."

"Oh, well they're preparing dinner," She explained. "I thought I'd pick some flowers to the homestead, but we always have the same flowers from the garden. I wandered over here to see if there were any wild flowers that might look nice in the drawing room."

There was a long silence. Connor held his breath; Achilles was extremely adept at spotting a lie and Emma had no idea just who she was talking to. It wasn't as if either of them had explained the Order of Assassins to her, or the skills they possessed. He wondered if she'd still like him if she knew the person he was training to become. He leaned his ear against the wood to be sure he could hear Achilles if he decided to come looking around the back of the stable. Fortunately, he didn't.

"Well you should be in the kitchen," The old man finally said, though his tone was fairly gentle.

"Right away," Emma agreed. Connor could hear her footsteps heading back towards the house.

"Oh, Emma," Achilles called after her. "Have you seen Connor?"

"Not today," She lied flawlessly, even giving a little hint of confusion to her voice. "Why? Did you need me to get him for you?"

"No, certainly not," Achilles' footfalls towards the house were distinct, with the way his cane beat against the ground in time with his steps. "You just hurry along and help Anne and Charlotte, and I'll see you at the table."

Connor listened to her take a few steps more towards the homestead, and then suddenly she was approaching the stable again. What is she doing? I can't find an opening if she keeps him outside. He leaned around the wooden structure the tiniest amount, just enough to see Achilles facing away from him and Emma heading back.

"Achilles?" She said, her voice small.

"What is it?"

"I just wanted to thank you for being so kind to me."

"Oh, well, I couldn't very well leave you a fugitive on the streets."

Connor watched Emma get very close to him. "May I… give you a hug?"

"Err…"

Emma didn't wait for Achilles to reply before reaching up and throwing her arms around his neck. She pulled his already-hunched frame down a little in doing so, and had clearly strategically placed his head on her shoulder opposite where Connor stood. She had just created the opening.

Without hesitation Connor darted across the grass, leapt over the path directly into the garden – the path was covered in rocks and twigs that would make him easily detectable – and scaled the wall of his home. When both hands reached the second floor windowsill he pulled himself inside, careful not to make too loud of a thud lest the maids downstairs hear him coming in. Silently his moccasins slid across the floor as he rushed to pick up the rag he'd dropped earlier and continue cleaning as if nothing at all had changed. He listened intently to the sound of the back door opening and both Emma and Achilles entered the house. From the murmuring downstairs it seemed like dinner was almost ready.

"Connor!" Achilles' voice rang out loudly.

Keeping the rag in his hand, Connor headed towards the staircase, and then paused in front of the wood stove that was used to heat the upper drawing room. He quickly reached inside, coating his hand in ash, and then gently tapped his clothing to create the air that he'd done more work than he actually had. As he made his way down the stairs his wiped the still-dirty hand across his forehead, and finished by cleaning his hand with the rag.

When he entered the kitchen, it was clear that neither Anne nor Charlotte was particularly impressed by having someone so dirty so close to their food. Achilles noticed this quickly and shooed him into the next room, leaving Emma with the maids.

"You look like you've been hard at work," Achilles tone suggested he was skeptical, but Connor simply shrugged without engaging. He figured the more he said, the easier it would be for his mentor to trap him in a lie, so he opted for silence at the moment. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Emma crossing back and forth across the open doorway, ferrying dishes and utensils to the table. He made a concerted effort not to let his gaze drift.

"It's been a week since your punishment began," The old man continued. "And you've been very well-behaved."

"Thank you." Connor figured thanks wouldn't hurt.

"Emma says she hasn't seen you at all today, is that true?"

Connor locked eyes with Achilles. "I was upstairs cleaning, as you requested."

"I see that," He gestured to the dust all over Connor's shirt. "It seems you're finally beginning to remember where your priorities lie. I realize that the punishment may seem harsh, but you don't belong near a girl like Emma. Any relationship – even the relationship between a pupil and his teacher – can be very dangerous for assassins."

"I know."

"Good. Now go change your shirt for dinner."

Connor turned on his heel, grateful that Achilles hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. As he was able to go back upstairs, the old man caught him by the wrist.

"One more thing," Achilles drew close. "I may have a mission for you tomorrow."

The young man felt his heart pounding hard against his chest at those words. After a full week of being cooped up in the house he would finally be able to get back into nature and, hopefully, into a mission that would prove dangerous and exciting to revitalize his assassin spirit. He flexed his wrist a few times, itching to wear his blade again.

By the time Connor had changed and washed, everyone saved Emma was seated around the dining room table. She was holding a stack of cloth napkins and walked around the table clockwise to distribute them, starting with Achilles and ending with Connor. She carefully lay each napkin beside a plate of food, and when she got to Connor, he noticed her gently nudge him with her elbow as she put it down. Achilles was already eating, staring down at his plate of food, so it didn't seem as though he'd noticed. Anne and Charlotte were having a quiet conversation on the other side of the table.

Connor pulled the napkin onto his lap, like Achilles had taught him to as a boy. Through the cloth he could feel something crinkle; a piece of paper? He quickly surveyed the table, and, when he was satisfied no one was looking, he slid the note out of the folds of cloth.

Behind the stable, at midnight were the only words written on the small scrap of parchment, but they were more than clear. Connor took a long, deep breath to steady himself and not give away how exciting it was that Emma was requesting a secret meeting with him. As he began to eat, though he was barely hungry anymore, he considered that he must be extremely careful when sneaking out, as he didn't want to jeopardize the mission Achilles might give him the next day. Still, there was no way he'd pass up the opportunity to see what it was Emma wanted to tell him.

Under the cover of darkness, Connor rose from his bed and slipped into the hallway to check the grandfather clock at the top of the staircase. The time read 11:55, leaving him just enough time to get out to the stables for the secret meeting. He stared at Achilles' closed bedroom door for a long moment, listening carefully to be absolutely sure there was no sign of the old man getting out of his bed and discovering Connor's antics. When he was satisfied that Achilles was fast asleep, he snuck back into his own room and shut the door, wedging a small piece of firewood under the door so that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to open from the outside. He then stepped into his boots to be certain there would be no more slipping mistakes this time. Finally, he put on his coat to brace against the cool night air and climbed out of the window.

It was much easier this time to scamper over the rooftop and back down the other side of the homestead, and he was cautious to step in all the right places to make absolutely no noise. He landed soundlessly in the garden and made his way over to the stables, where he and Emma had hidden earlier that day. Much to his surprise, she was already there, dressed in her nightgown with a thin shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Connor's first instinct was to avert his eyes.

"You don't have to worry about being polite," Emma said with laughter in her voice. "I'm fairly sure we threw being proper to the wind when we both ended up alone outside in the middle of the night, especially when we were expressly forbidden from speaking at all."

She did have a point. Connor lifted his gaze up to look into her face. She was smiling a sort of excited, childlike smile, and he couldn't help but catch the feeling. He returned her smile in kind, and they shared a long moment of simply looking into each other's eyes, beaming. Eventually however, Connor couldn't contain his curiosity any longer.

"So… why did you ask to meet me tonight?"

"Come sit down with me," Emma plunked herself into a seated position on the grass, both legs bent elegantly to the side. Connor sat next to her, cross-legged. They both leaned up against the stable and stared into the sky.

"I guess I just thought…" She started, then hesitated, then continued. "You risked so much to save me, and to be around me, and I just think you should know exactly who you're doing all of these things for. We've been through so much together and yet we're still practically strangers. I don't like feeling that way with you. I want to know you, and I want you to know me."

Connor looked down at her, but she kept her eyes straight forward, staring out across the lake to the horizon. He had to focus on breathing; it was nerve-wracking being so close to her, and he wasn't sure what she was about to tell him. Was there some secret she had that he didn't know about? Was she going to leave? Or was this just an innocent conversation? All the questions made Connor's mind swim, but fortunately, Emma soon began speaking again, and her voice soothed him.

"I don't know if you thought to pay attention to it, but I lived with my uncle, not my parents. It seems unimportant probably, but there's a reason."

"What's that?"

A very serious look came over Emma's face. "Have you heard of the Brotherhood of Assassins?"

The expression Connor wore must have betrayed his thoughts, because a look of understanding suddenly washed over her. Before he could reply, she reached over and smoothed the lapel of his coat, fiddling with one of the buttons.

"You're an assassin, aren't you?"

"I…" Connor had no idea how to proceed. This was completely unprecedented, but if she already knew about the Brotherhood, could speaking to her about his training really do any harm? "I'm in training to join the order. Not quite an assassin yet."

"When I was in jail, the guards threw me in a cell. But then some other men came and moved me upstairs where you found me. I think they were Templars. They didn't want me harmed – at least not until they confirmed I was who they suspected – because, well…"

"What?" Connor turned his whole body towards her. "What is it?"

"My father is an assassin."

Connor felt like his head was spinning. He blinked several times to steady his vision and waited for her to continue, but she still wasn't looking at him. He wondered how she must be feeling right now. For an assassin to have a family… He knew it was possible – many master assassins went on to have children, obviously, or there would be no descendants of the bloodline – but Achilles had always been so quick to caution him about the risks of relationships, especially for an active assassin. He wondered what had happened to Emma's father that he wasn't here, protecting her. Why was she left so defenseless with her uncle? He couldn't help but ask.

"Where is your father?"

"I don't know," Her voice shook a little. "I haven't known for years. He was a powerful assassin in New York when I was a child. He and his 'team' had completely erased any Templar presence from the city. But then one night, when I was maybe ten years old, I woke up in the back of a carriage heading for the harbor. I was completely alone. When we stopped, the driver helped load me onto a boat where my uncle was waiting. He brought me to Boston and I haven't heard from anyone in my family since."

Connor's heart ached for her. If anyone understood the pain of being separated from a parent at a young age, it was him. Without really thinking, he reached out and pulled her towards his body, wrapping his arms around her tightly. After a few seconds she adjusted so that she could hug him as well. They stayed like that, entwined, for a long few moments.

"He must have sent you off to protect you," Connor muttered into her hair.

"I know he did," She was obviously trying to keep her voice even. "My uncle wouldn't give me details but I know he did it for a reason."

"But then…" Connor pulled away from her, to his great regret, to ask his question. "Why would the Templars be after you? If you left in secret, as only a child, how would they even know where to look for you?"

"I…" Her voice was weak. She wouldn't look him in the eye.

"Emma," Her name felt sweet on his lips. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

She looked at her lap. "I had a picture of him in my bedroom."

"I'm not certain I follow."

"When those guards broke down my door following you…" She looked up at him with tears shimmering in her eyes. "One of them, an old Templar allegiant, recognized him and they took me away for harboring a fugitive. Except… it was actually so they could call in the real Templars and keep me… for ransom."

Connor felt his breath catch in his throat at the horrifying news. It had been his fault she was captured, and now there was no way she could return to a normal life in Boston. They were all lucky the Templars hadn't come knocking down the doors of the homestead yet; the fact that it was built outside the city proper had probably bought them some time. However now that he understood the situation fully they were on a ticking timeline until someone caught on to start checking the areas outside the city and then they were in trouble.

Emma looked up at him expectantly, and he realized he had been quiet for far too long. The immense guilt he felt burned in his chest like fire.

"I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry."

She shook her head, sending a few tears rolling down her perfect pale cheeks. "I'm not angry. I don't even know why I'm crying. My life wasn't very good before you came along, and honestly I was sick of pretending to be someone different all the time. I always wanted to be an assassin, like my father, but I was never given the chance. Instead my uncle raised me to be a polite, proper lady. And I couldn't refuse because he had risked so much to help me. But now…"

"We're still working on getting him out of jail," Connor cut in. "I'm sure Achilles can figure some way to convince the guards…"

"Can't you hear what I'm saying Connor?" She placed a hand against his chest. "Even if he gets out of jail I can't go back to that life. Besides, the Templars onto us. If I don't want to be kept in a cage and my life used as a bargaining chip, then I can't be that person anymore. I don't even know if I'll be able to stay in Boston…"

Her words trailed off as she looked up at him, and they both soundlessly understood the gravity of what she was saying. Connor felt an aching pang in his heart at the realization that he might lose the first person to stir any kind of emotion in him since he'd lost his family and tribe. Emma must have noticed the panicked look because she quickly wiped her tears away with both hands and gave him a reassuring smile – or at least her best attempt at one under the circumstances.

"I'm not going anywhere right now," She said softly. "And besides, you hardly know me. How much could you really miss me?"

"A lot," Connor argued, taking both her hands in his. Her pale skin lit up under the moonlight, contrasting strongly with his dark pigment. Perhaps it was sitting under the stars, feeling his mother looking down on him, or perhaps it was the way they were alone at the edge of nature, but there was something in that moment that filled Connor with the strength and courage to speak his mind, finally, instead of simply stammering and stuttering under her gaze.

"I know we haven't really spent any time together, but there is a connection here that I can't simply let go. And it's not just a simple connection made by the two of us existing here, together, at the same place at the same time. It's a deeper connection, on the level of spirits, which draws us together the way the ocean meets the river. Maybe I'm wrong, but I think you feel it too."

Emma's eyes glittered with starlight. "I do."

Connor suddenly became aware that they'd been growing increasingly close together and was doing nothing to stop it. In just a few moments their foreheads would touch, and maybe even…

There was a loud banging, the sound of a fist on wood. Someone was at the front door of the homestead, knocking loudly. All of Connor's muscles went tense and he scrambled to his feet. Emma remained seated, frozen with wide eyes. There was no way that whoever was knocking on that door didn't bring trouble with them. Nobody knocks on strange doors in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, if it isn't trouble.

"Stay here," He instructed.

"No! Where are you going?" There was obviously panic in her voice as she grasped at his pants.

"Achilles won't be able to manage on his own if there's trouble," He explained, using the word "if" even though he knew for certain he really meant "will be".

"Then I want to help!"

"Are you crazy?" Connor realized he'd elevated his voice above a whisper and brought it back down. "There's a very good chance whoever is at that door is looking for you, and even if they're not, Achilles will surely be awake and if he catches us together then you'll be sent away. Please, just let me handle this one."

"Fine," She huffed, crossing her arms. "Be careful."

"I will."