11
"You say you understand, but, do you? Do you really?" I question him. "Where I come from, men and women are equals. Dresses are seldom worn by women."
"That sounds like a very strange place. Where do you come from?" Bartolomeo sits in his chair in his office watching me pace back and forth in front of the desk. I run my hands through my short dark chocolate hair.
Stalk. Stalk. Stalk. Spin.
"Where I'm from isn't important. What's important is how those poor people are being treated." My arms flail out and up, briefly, while my feet continue to pace the office's wood floor. "There has to be something that we can do; something that I can do." My bottom lip smarts from how hard I'm chewing it. "I feel so lost, here."
Stalk. Stalk. Stalk. Spin.
"It is not that I do not want to train you, Daniela, because I do. It's more that once I train you, if you gain notoriety, the Guards will not leave you alone. You will forever have to hide from them." Patient eyes follow my stressed movements. "I do not want you to have to go through that."
Stalk. Stalk. Stalk. Spin.
"You are going to wear out my floor one of these days, Daniela."
Stalk. Stalk. Stalk. Spin. A brief withering glance shoots out towards him from my gold flecked brown eyes. It's been 2 weeks since last I used my contacts.
"I need new floors, anyways." He states with a sigh.
Stalk. Stalk. Stalk. Stop. My arms come up to circle my mid-section and my shoulders hunch up. My tortured bottom lip pops out from between my teeth. A few deep breaths later and my thoughts are given voice.
"It's been a week since that man attacked me and every time I close my eyes, I can see it, feel it. I can't help but wonder how many other women weren't as lucky as me. Roma's a big city and I don't even want to think about how many women didn't get away. Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands, even? I want to do something for the people of Roma. There must be someone who can teach me, if you still refuse. What about that guy in white? Ezio Auditore." Turning from the bookcase where I stopped, I face Bartolomeo once more. "The Militia who chased us called him an Assassin. If he goes around helping the people of Roma, like he did me, he can't possibly be a bad person. Maybe 'Assassin' is a title, maybe it isn't. I'd wager that by how you're holding yourself, there's more to it than that. I aim to find out what." Dark eyes locked with gold flecked brown, neither giving ground.
"Am I interrupting something?" Instinctively, I turn to regard Ezio. He has a smirk plastered on what I could see of his face, which is still just the lower half.
"No," I sigh deeply. "I suppose not. We were just finishing up." My eyes find Bartolomeo's, again. "You two look like you need some privacy. Thank you for your time, Bartolomeo." I nod respectfully to him and make my way out of his office.
"Think nothing of it, Daniela; I am always available to you when I am not busy." The sincerity of his words makes me smile, as always.
"You know," Not stopping, I call back over my shoulder, "Bernardo said he was taking the day off. Maybe he'll show me some moves?" Why not respond to his stubbornness with a little sass? We're both equally stubborn, so, it's just a question of who cracks first, right? The Assassin's laughter tells me that I, both, scored and win that round.
