The kiss still playing on my lips, I strolled through Florence in the morning sun, shoppers bustling past as they rushed to and from various stalls, buying everything from artwork to boot repairs. I smiled to myself, feeling light enough to allow the residents of Florence to keep their purses.

I suppose, had I been a little less carefree, I would have sensed the eyes that followed me, the shadow that stalked me, the hot breath on the back of my neck just before the cold blade of a knife pressed against my throat.

I cursed myself for wandering into an empty alleyway, practically guarded by its tall walls, nearly too high to climb, and definitely too difficult to do so in this dress. I had to admit. The novelty of the dress was starting to wear off.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my fists clenched, ready to go for my attacker's face.

"A friend." Responded the familiar voice.

"Nazario!" I hissed as he pulled me around to face him, the point of his knife still at my throat.

"What are you still doing prancing around with the Auditore cazzo (prick) and in that stunning number, nonetheless."

I shuddered as his eyes trailed down my body, his eyes alight.

"It's none of your business, stronzo. I'll fuck who I want and no one needs to know." He knew I meant my father and I wasn't going to have him running off to tell him what his dirty little girl had been getting up to.

"Ah but that's where you're wrong. At the thieves guild, we share our secrets, bonding us together, you know that. But I suppose, this time..." He stepped closer, the knife still at my neck, pushing me back until I hit the wall. "... I could make an exception."

"Bastardo! Get off me!" I snarled, ready to knock him out cold as soon as he made a move.

"You're going to let me do what I want with you, or this is going through your throat. And I'll tell your father how you were caught fucking that Auditore boy, impersonating nobility and killed by a guard."

A hideous grin spread onto his face, repulsing me. I flinched as his spare hand crept under my skirts, groping. His coarse hands roughly grabbed my sex, making me cry out, swiftly silenced by the knife pressing deeper. As his fingers began to do their work, I bucked against the wall, again, rewarded with another jab in the throat.

I fumbled with my skirt, attempting to save myself.

Nazario tutted. "Don't push my hand away, or you know what happens."

As his disgusting lips found my chest, I found my courage again.

"It's not your hand I'm trying to reach." I growled, pressing the glass gemstone.

The copper blade sprung from just in front of his belly to sticking out of his back, blood seeping from the wound. He looked up startled at my merciless face as I shoved him away, his dagger clattering to the floor. He stumbled for a while, muttering 'cagna (bitch)' and 'puttana (whore)' as he died. As he fell to his knees I knelt beside him.

"It appears it'll be me that will be telling father that you were killed by the guards, probably for raping some poor defenceless noblewoman." I smiled and stood.

"Puttana!" He cried, his hands bloody from clutching his wound.

"Cazzo." I spat and kicked his head, silencing him.

And there I left the first man I ever killed, without remorse, without regret, nothing but relief as the man bled to death in the empty alleyway.