Heeeeeyyyy. So I was re-reading through the last chapter, and I must apologize. There were some terrible mistakes in there. Not only grammar wise but plot wise. I also apologize for being gone for so long. I have gotten more involved in other passions of mine such as drawing and choir. I have also been hard at work with a different story of mine that has become my pet story. Let me promise to you now that I will work harder on this story to make it the best it can be. I do not own AC3 and I certainly do not own the franchise.
"Watch where you're going!" Fiorella hissed as Sorencio passed by, nearly knocking her over with his basket of laundry. Sorencio snarled back at her, not enjoying the fact that during the day, she was in charge.
Fiorella and Sorencio had gotten into a habit over the past couple of weeks. Sorencio would do chores and help out around the house by day, avoiding any and all suspicion that he was teaching Fiorella the basics of self defense as the rest of the house hold was asleep. Fiorella wasn't exactly pleased with the conditions, but it was the best she could do in the situation.
"Where I'm going? You're the one who almost tripped over me!" Sorencio waved a rag form the basket at her menacingly. He had been through all the rooms in the villa, twice and yet it there seemed to be things to wash everywhere. Fiorella huffed and spun around, walking back the way she came, into her father's office. But when she walked in- hoping for peace and quiet since her father was supposed to be at a meeting- she found a man dressed in a dark blue cloak hunched over her father's desk, looking straight into her father's eyes. Neither had noticed Fiorella yet, so she stood stock still, hoping that she could slip back out. She was just about to turn back around when the man in the blue said something.
"You're going to stop getting in the way, you hear? Or else I can't assure that this lovely villa will stay as peaceful as it has been!" The man growled. Fiorella flung a hand over her mouth to muffle the gasp that had almost escaped her mouth. This was not something that she could ignore if her family's safety was involved.
"Signore, you have my deepest apologies, but I do not know what you are talking about." Signore Abbette replied coolly. He looked the man in blue in the eyes and clasped his hands together, resting them on the desk.
"Oh yes you do, and you know exactly who sent me. Back off, or else!" The man twirled around and stormed out of the room. Fiorella shrank back against the wall, hoping that he wouldn't notice her on his way out, but there was no need. He breezed past her without a backwards glance. Fiorella let out a breath that she didn't know she had been holding, and rushed into her father's study.
"Papa! What was that all about? Who was that man?" She asked hurriedly. Signore Abbette let out a sigh and ran a hand over his face, making his age much more apparent.
"Nothing you need to worry about mi bambina. Just business." He picked up a pen and rifled through some other papers, obviously trying to dismiss her, but she would not have it.
"But papa he sounded angry, dangerous even! What's going on?" Fiorella pressed.
"I told you already, just a bit of business! Now don't you have lessons with your mother?" He reprimanded. Fiorella's heart sank in her chest. Her father was usually a peaceful man, and did not yell at her often.
"Yes Papa." Fiorella mumbled, and then slunk out of the room. She certainly didn't want to go to her mother for lessons, but she didn't know of anywhere else. She walked around to the stairs, and then made her way to the kitchen. There, Bianca stood, rolling some dough out on a worn wooden board. Fiorella's eyes lit up. She had been consumed with lessons of every kind lately, so she hadn't spoken much to her friend since Sorencio had first arrived.
"Bianca! How are you?" She asked cheerfully, and bounded toward her, hugging the girl. Bianca laughed, and set down the dough she was rolling, hugging Fiorella back.
"I am good. I got to see my brother earlier. It seems he has gotten himself into trouble. It also seems that Sorencio is fitting in well here. What do you think?" She replied.
"Oh him. It's rather bothersome to see him around all the time. I feel like I have to sneak around like he's taught me every time I see him, like I can't be normal around him." Fiorella shook her head.
"It's alright, you'll get used to it. Besides, if he makes you run too much you can always order that he scrub your floors later!" Bianca snickered.
"Ah, I had not thought of that! How genius!" Fiorella laughed along with the maid conspiratorially.
"And what is it that you ladies are guffawing about back here?" Came a strict voice from behind. Fiorella spun around to face her mother.
"Aww, Mami, I was just taking a little break! Can't I talk to Bianca?" Fiorella asked, knowing she would have to go back to sewing, or memorizing Virgil or some other boring thing her mother had planned for her to do.
"It seems like you just had that break. Now do you have the books I sent you upstairs for?" Her mother asked. There was a hint of a smile to her voice, as she knew that Fiorella had gotten distracted once again.
Fiorella cringed. "No. Let me go get them." Fiorella heaved a sigh then trudged back up the stairs to retrieve the books.
Dinner, as always with the Abbette family, was a peaceful event. Bianca and Natalia, the other household maid, had put together a lovely olive and shrimp vermicelli. Fiorella's mother and father had just begun discussing commissioning a new piece of artwork when Sorencio rushed in. He bowed, stiffly and quickly to the family.
"My apologies for interrupting Signore e Signora Abbette, but there is a courier at the door for you. He says it's urgent." The words had a difficult time finding their way out of his mouth. Sorencio was not used to such formalities, as none were required in the Assassin's brotherhood.
"Ah. Of course. I shall not be long." Signore Abbette arose and headed towards the door. Fiorella glanced towards Sorencio. He waved her over anxiously.
"Uhhhm…It was a lovely meal, but I'm afraid I need…to go…finish a cross-stitch of mine, yes." Fiorella smiled to her mother and scrambled away from the dinner table, leaving Bianca, Natalia and Signora Abbette perplexed. The girl rushed away and into the hallway where Sorencio had disappeared. She found him leaning out of a doorframe, trying to catch a few snippets of Signore Abbette's conversation with the courier.
"What?" She hissed as she neared him. He turned in her direction, and then waved her over to the doorframe.
"What do you notice about him?" He asked cryptically. Fiorella squinted at the message carrier.
"What do you mean? It's just another courier. What game are you playing?" She responded, thoroughly annoyed.
"Just look. What is different?" He said. Fiorella searched the man's face. He looked completely normal. Her eyes roved over his satchel. It was worn like always. She searched his clothes. Hidden weapons perhaps? Nope. She looked behind the man. Was someone following him? But there were hardly any people outside of the Abbette Villa.
"I give up. What am I supposed to be seeing here?" She huffed and crossed her arms, making sure to jab Sorencio in the ribs as she did so. He winced and rubbed his side but made no comment.
"Look harder." He grated. Fiorella sighed and peered again. Not for very long though. As she was scanning the messenger's clothes, he twisted around to show her father something, and she caught sight of two crossed keys and the beehive shaped hat. She gasped.
"It's the Pope's insignia!" She hissed to the boy next to her.
"There you go. Yes, this must be a very important message indeed if the pope's personal courier came to deliver it…" Sorencio trailed off in thought.
"But what could be so important?" She mumbled. Sorencio turned his head to her. Around him Fiorella could see that the conversation between her father and the messenger ending.
"Looks like we'll find out soon enough!" He shoved the girl back into the hallway, making her stumble. He caught her hand and dragged her back to the dining room, letting go just in time to let her compose herself and walk in a head of him, so as to look like they hadn't just been cavorting around.
"Seems like it didn't need that much finishing!" She excused lamely as her mother gave her a questioning look. Sorencio walked around the table and to the kitchen, acting like nothing at all had just happened and that this was all completely normal.
"Oh alright then. Fiorella darling I was wondering if perhaps after this-," Signora Abbette started to say, but Signore Abbette burst into the room, looking hustled and flustered.
"Oh my, darling, is everything alright? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Fiorella watched as her mother got up and went to her father, who did indeed look like he had seen a ghost. He sat down, and fumbled around in his pockets for something. He pulled out the family ring, and started twirling it around his fingers.
"The Holy Father has called an emergency meeting. Apparently one of his personal guards has just been found dead, likely murdered by one of those terrible cut-throat thieves, and he has called for the council to come and attend him tomorrow at dawn." He looked up at his wife, something, possibly hope, gleaming in his eyes. "Do you know what this means?" He asked hurriedly. Signora Abbette shook her head slowly, a confused expression spreading across her features.
"It means that now, because the Pope is rattled and scared, is a good time to get to him! And I have just finished the charts as well! This is wonderful!" He shouted, a smile popping up on his face. He turned to his daughter and looked her in the eye, acknowledging her for the first time since he came into the room.
"I will need help this time around, someone who can keep notes for me as I focus on swaying the Pope. Will you come with me?" He asked quietly, the smile gone from his lips, a serious look replacing it.
"Are you sure that is alright? I mean a lot of those men will disagree to a woman attending the meeting…" Signora Abbette looked to her husband, then to her daughter. Fiorella, on the other hand, stood still, completely shocked by the turn of events.
"As long as they know that the only thing she's doing is taking notes, they will not object. Not in front of the Holy Father." He seemed determined. He looked to his daughter. "So will you accept?" He asked again. Fiorella stood there, flabbergasted. Her mother had brought up a good point. Many Men of Politics did not trust women around their work, especially if that woman was the daughter of another politician. But this was the chance that she needed, to get in and see just how much of a stranglehold Toscano had on the Pope.
"I-uh, of course. I would love to help you." She offered a small smile to her father. Hopefully, this was a step forward, and not three back.
"Do that again. It was sloppy. You need to be fluid and seamless." Sorencio ordered. Fiorella groaned, but ran back to the beginning of the rooftop to perform the attack-fall-roll maneuver again. When she got to the edge of the roof, the spun around, took a deep-breath and took off, running towards an invisible target, and stabbing it with an invisible dagger, then ducking, hitting the roof tiles to dodge its invisible counter-attack. She rolled out of it and turned back around to face the imaginary adversary.
"Better, but you're wasting too much energy on the duck. Let nature do most of the work and let the earth pull you towards itself." He noted. Fiorella nodded, too exhausted to reply. She had been doing this maneuver for half an hour now, doing it over and over. She had gotten it right a couple of times, but every time she tried to replicate what she had done right, she messed up again.
"You know what? Take a break. Practice your balance." Sorencio guided her over to a post that was sticking out of the roof, overhanging the street, for what purpose, she had no clue, but she walked out on to the tiny plank and stood, trying not to fall off with all her might. She fixed her vision on a far-off steeple, trying to focus.
"You know, eventually, you're going to have to do that while free-running." Sorencio commented. She ignored him. She instead pictured her feet on the plank, and mentally bound them to the wood. It helped to reassure her, but not much.
After dinner, Signore Abbette had brought Fiorella up to his study to tell her what she was to do the next day and how to handle herself if anything happened. After everyone had begun to tire and yearn for bed, Bianca made the excuse that she was going to go with Fiorella on a night-time stroll. They had then raced each other to a nearby alley, where Fiorella had stashed her assassin clothes after training the previous night. She quickly changed, then had looked to the wall in front of her. Bianca would stay on the street below, amusing herself somehow then walk her back to the villa once Fiorella was finished, but first, she had to meet Sorencio up on the roof of the villa, and she would have to get there herself. She had surveyed the surrounding area and found a couple of crates stacked upon each other and used them to start up the wall. From there, she found easy foot-holds in window ledges and over-hanging plant balconies. It was far from the almost sheer walls that Sorencio could scale, but it was just as difficult for Fiorella. They had been on the roof for a good hour or two now, training and practicing. Up here, Sorencio was boss, and Fiorella did not like that one bit.
"Plus you're going to have to acknowledge me sooner or later, so it's best if we start practicing on doing two things at once now." Fiorella could hear the smirk in his voice. She sighed again and turned her head towards him.
"What do you want? I don't think distracting me will help any." She asked. She shrieked quietly as she wavered a little, splaying out her arms. Sorencio smirked, but stood close incase anything were to happen.
"I just want to chat." He replied too innocently.
"Yes, because we have not been doing that for the past minute." The girl replied, biting her lip and glaring at the steeple in front of her.
"What did your father say? I heard that he wanted your help with the next meeting, but after that it got quiet in the dining room." He stated.
"You were listening?" Fiorella sounded surprised, but Sorencio frowned.
"Of course. What else would I be doing?" He crossed his arms and shifted his weight.
"You couldn't be patient and wait until I told you after practice?" Fiorella accused.
"No. And besides, I had no idea you were planning to do that." He shot back.
"Fine. Father just told me that he needed my help. I accepted and then he took me to his study for further instruction. It was basically just 'Write everything you can down, Fiorella!' and 'Let me do the talking daughter!' Nothing much really. I suppose I'll give you a copy of the notes once papa has looked them over." She said, absently.
"Hmn, I suppose I could make you snatch them away before he has the chance to read them it would be practice… but then again it would raise too much suspicion." Sorencio smirked, and then poked Fiorella in the ribs, making her shriek yet again.
"Don't do that! Do you want me to fall to my death?" She whipped her head around to him and ran off of the plank, advancing towards him, then hitting him in the gut. He didn't seem to notice, only smirking larger.
"What in the world is so funny that you want me to die for?" She yelled at him.
"Nothing, except for the fact that it worked. You managed to keep your balance while talking to me and while trying to hurt me." Sorencio grinned as Fiorella's expression went slack, and then tightened back up again as she realized what had happened. She fumed at him, crossing her arms and glaring at him.
"Humph!" She huffed.
"Okay, if you feel that way, back to the good stuff!" Sorencio waved to the stretch of roof where Fiorella had been practicing maneuvers.
"Awwww, again?" She whined.
"Yep! Now get going!" He shouted.
The room where Signore Abbette attended the meetings with the pope was oddly silent, but Fiorella didn't know why. This was partially because she had been so engrossed in writing down all the words that were flying across the room moments before, and partially because she didn't want to look up and see.
"What is she doing here?" Someone, Fiorella didn't know who, but she didn't like the tone of their voice, asked. Apparently, now that there was not arguing to be done, people could afford to pay attention to the fact that there was a girl in the room.
"She's just taking notes. Leave her be Toscano." Fiorella's father snapped. Fiorella fought the urge to pull up and meet the eyes of the man who caused all of this trouble.
"Are you sure bringing her is…wise?" he asked again. The way in which he asked the question was similar to the way Sorencio often snidely asked her. She would not tell Sorencio that though, that would only anger him.
"Yes. Now weren't you saying something?" Signore Abbette curtly replied. There was the sound of ruffling fabric as Toscano stood up and looked to the pope.
"Well it seems to me, Oh Holy Father, that the citizens of Rome are growing restless and rambunctious and that they need people out there who need to keep the peace, and watch over everyone. Might I suggest my own contingency of guards?" Tosacno said it as if guards were the best idea ever and that the last time the Papacy had installed guards it had gone wonderfully.
"No, no. Do you all remember how well that went last time?" Fiorella's father said, on the same track as his daughter. "What we need are motivators, perhaps we reward those who do good. A small monetary incentive could surely work wonders." The men at the table looked to Abbette and nodded their consent.
"This is a good idea, but surely we don't have the means to do such things!" Toscano opposed.
"Actually I have done the research and it would work, as long as we monitor it closely." Signore Abbette was not about to just give up and lie down. Toscano fumed, but said nothing.
"This is a good idea, but I would like to look over your findings my son." The Pope said. Signor Abbette gave the papers to the elder man, hoping that he would agree.
"Surely you aren't considering this!" Toscano hurried over to where the Pope sat, reading the pages over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed as he took in the figures.
"Ah but you see here? Abbette is implying that we lower your guard number in order to pay for this little idea, and with recent events that is hardly wise!" He tattled.
"Yes but lowering the number of guards would be a show of trust to the people Father, and that would bring you much closer to them. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, might I say." Fiorella's father rushed to defend himself. Fiorella wrote quicker, knowing this was an especially important part, but just as she was nearing copying down the last sentence, the quill tip broke. Fiorella cursed under her breath, and rushed to get a new one out of the bag that lay at her feet. One of the politicians shot her a look, but the rest ignored her as the exchange between Toscano and Abbette continued.
"The people would not understand it! You think they are educated enough to do so? It would be a sign of weakness in their eyes!" Toscano reeled around to face Fiorella, who still had not yet found a spare quill.
"My dear girl, could you quiet down! We are conducting business here!" He spat at her. Fiorella's cheeks burned.
"I'm sorry, my quill broke, I'm just trying to find a new one-," She tried.
"Silence! Did I ask you to speak? No! Open your mouth again and see where it gets you!" He vented. The pope looked at him over his glasses.
"Is that really necessary my son? Please corral your anger. It is not virtuous." He reprimanded. Toscano's face paled, but his venomous expression stayed put.
"Yes father, excuse my impetuous actions." He mumbled through gritted teeth. Signore Abbette caught his daughter's eye and gave her a warning glance, one that implied that severe reprimand would come after this was all over. Fiorella blanched as well, and she bent her head back to her writing,
"Well my sons, it seems we are at an impasse here. We have two good solutions on our hands to a growing problem; the question is which the better is for our people. I will put up to a vote, as I cannot decide on my own. All in favor of Toscano's idea," The Pope called out. Several of the men raised their hands, and Fiorella's father didn't react, but it was obvious he was worried. Many of the men in the room would side with Toscano. But how may exactly?
"And Abbette's?" The pope called again. The number of hands had dwindled. Many of them had not voted; they were scared to take sides in this war of words.
"I see. It looks like we shall install your guards Toscano. I would ask that you stay after to discuss the details. The rest of you are dismissed." The pope waved his hand, and the group dispersed. Signore Abbette stayed where he was for several minutes, his head in his hands. Finally Fiorella could take it no longer. She got up and went to her father, resting a hand on his shoulder. Surprised, he lifted his head, and smiled helplessly at her. He sighed and hauled himself up, collecting his papers and pens. Fiorella followed suit and soon they were walking down the halls of the Castello.
The silence hung heavy in the air as Fiorella waited for her Father to scold her, but no words came. She did not want to invoke his anger, so she stayed quiet, playing with the tip of the broken quill nervously. They made it all the way back to their villa in silence. Fiorella helped to put away her father's things in the study and she was just about to run to her room for a nap before dinner when her father called her name.
"Fiorella,… I know that you are sorry for what you did, and that you did not mean to show any disrespect, but you have got to be more careful in there! Each of those men, especially Toscano, would not hesitate to hurt you if you offended them in anyway. I don't want that happening to you, so please look out for yourself." His voice was weary and quiet, full of concern and worry. Fiorella swallowed the knot that was beginning to form in her throat.
"Yes Papa." She managed.
"Thank you." Fiorella caught his words just as she was sprinting out the door and into her room. When she got to her room, she saw Sorencio there, polishing her desk. He looked up as she entered, and approached to question her, but she shook her head.
"Please, not now. I–I just need to rest." She choked out. Sorencio gave her a look, but said nothing, and left. As soon as she was sure he was not sneaking around her room, she slumped down onto her bed and let out the sob that had been holding in since she left her father's office. She had messed up, and it had cost her father. It might not have been directly her fault, but it was close. How could she have been so foolish? She knew Toscano was a dangerous man, and yet she spoke anyway. It pained her that her father had to worry about her so. It wouldn't help his case at all. Fiorella lay back on her bed, and continued to sob, letting out all of the stress that had accumulated over the past couple of days up until now.
Fiorella did not realize that she had fallen asleep until something woke her up. It was a soft knocking at her door. She sniffled, and ran her hand over her hair to fix it as much as she could. When she opened the door she saw Bianca. She was holding a tray of hot bread and a wedge of cheese, with a few strips of dried and season meat on the side. She smiled a little, and Fiorella let her in without a word.
Bianca came in and set the tray down on the edge of the bed, and wrapping her arms around Fiorella as soon as her hands were free. Fiorella exchanged the gesture and smiled. Bianca pulled back and brushed a loose strand of the girl's hair back, out of the way of the tears that were still making their way down her cheeks.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Bianca asked quietly. Fiorella nodded, but grabbed a small loaf of bread first, ripping off a piece of it and gobbling it up. She had not realized how hungry she was, she must have missed dinner while she was sleeping. She voiced her speculations.
"Did I miss dinner?"
"Yes. Your mother asked where you were, and I told her that you hadn't been feeling well and had wanted to lie down, since I had guessed that you were out practicing with Sorencio, but when I found him in the kitchen eating the left-overs like the pig he is, I knew you really must have fallen asleep. Don't worry. No one is mad at you. What can they except anyway? You are bound to be taking a few more naps now that you have begun to practice at night and you are helping your father." Bianca laughed.
"Thank you for excusing me. I'll have to apologize to Mami later though. Thanks for bringing me a snack as well." Fiorella munched on the rest of the food, relishing how good food could taste when you were hungry.
"Don't worry about it, you are welcome. Besides it gave me a chance to come and see you and get away from Sorencio!" Bianca rolled her eyes. "Who knew he could be so annoying?" This time it was Fiorella's turn to laugh.
"I did. That's why I wasn't so fond of this idea to begin with!" Bianca laughed with her.
"Well, it's getting late. I'll let you freshen up and talk to your mother, and then we can head out. Sound good?" Bianca hugged Fiorella one last time then left, leaving the girl to finish the food. Fiorella consumed the rest of the food gratefully then splashed some water on her face from the nearby basin. She took a deep breath and looked at herself in her hand-held mirror. Her eyes were swollen and red, but there wasn't much she could do about it. She grabbed her cloak and headed out.
Heeeey. Look, I'm all done! Yay! Tell me what ya think please! Just hit the review button, It does wonders to how fast a girl updates! Come on, you can do it, just click the button and write a few words, it's not that hard! There ya go! Yeah that button, right there down there!