"Isabella, is that you?" Ido's voice called out as she closed the door and she inwardly cursed herself for not being quieter. "You're home early."

"I..." she was completely lost in thought, and unable to speak.

Her discomfort must have been written on her face for when Ido walked into the foyer, his expression immediately became concerned.

"Are you alright?" He asked, walking over to her. "You look upset."

"I'm fine," she said rather lamely. She knew she was a terrible liar when it came to her brother, but the idea of telling him the truth was mortifying. "I just...ran home."

"Why?" Ido asked bemusedly.

She grimaced, quickly trying to piece together an abbreviated truth - it was better to avoid a full-out lie.

"Some guards were causing trouble at the market. But luckily Ezio was there so it didn't get too dicey."

Saying the Assassin's name brought his face to the forefront of her mind and she quickly shook off the memory of him pressed up against her.

"Oh god, did they do anything?" Ido asked, his tone suddenly full of concern and bringing her back to reality.

"No, we got away before anything could happen." Isabella said, her voice sounding rather emotional now. "I...I just feel a little shook up."

"Perhaps you should go lie down," Ido said with the voice he used when feeling particularly parental. "I'll come find you in an hour or so."

Nodding, she immediately obeyed his words, making her way to the stairs and dropping her bag on the foyer floor.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Ido asked again, his expression concerned and curious.

"I'm fine, just need a little rest," she replied, wanting desperately to run as fast as she could to her rooms.

Reaching her bedroom, she fastened the door shut and pressed her back to it; trying to control the vast sea of emotions flooding through her.

She felt terrible. A horrid mixture of disloyal, embarrassed, grief-stricken and confused. Her emotions were getting the best of her and she began to pace the room agitatedly - tears pricking in her eyes but refusing to fall for some reason.

She hadn't realised how strong her feelings for Ezio were. And now she had humiliated herself in front of him, and refused his advances.

Though could she be sure that they were advances? He could have just been caught in the moment, not stepping away because she herself had not let him go. What if he was simply confused at her actions because friends usually didn't act in such a way? What if he was now feeling rather awkward because she herself had been inappropriate?

But what if he did feel the same way and she had pushed him away?

And then there was a elephant in the room. Paulo.

Her dearest, sweet Paulo. How could she be thinking of her feelings for Ezio when her heart seemed to break every time she thought of her husband? How could she even consider feeling something for somebody else when her grief was still so strong that it woke her up with nightmares?

Falling onto her bed, she began to sob quietly. This was too difficult, she couldn't deal with it. She didn't know what to do, she felt completely and utterly lost.

A firework burst open in the sky, filling her with excitement as they walked along the dock towards to streets of people.

Carnevali. She looked forward to this every year, a chance to have a little fun and excitement - and all in disguise.

In the last few years of attendance, she had always had a wonderful time and she hoped that this year would be no exception.

"Are you meeting Rosa?" She asked her brother who was walking arm in arm with her towards the crowded piazza.

She repressed a grin at the redness on his cheeks at the question.

"And the others," he corrected, though Isabella knew he was lying. "I said I'd find them by the games."

"Well I want to watch the dancers, so it might be best to part ways for now."

As expected, he looked at her as if she had gone mad.

"I'm not leaving you alone."

"Ido please," she said diplomatically, readying the speech she'd prepared for this very moment. "I'm old enough to be alone. I go to the Doctor's quarters alone now, don't I?"

"That's different," Ido argued. "There aren't any drunks in the streets during the daytime."

"Oh there are if you pass the correct alleys," Isabella joked, repressing a laugh when his eyes widened with horror. "I'm joking, Ido."

She wheeled around in front of him, stopping him in his tracks, and took his hands.

"Please, I want to spend time with my own friends. None of them need a chaperone."

"They should, knowing what they get up to." Ido said darkly, but Isabella could tell she was wearing him down.

"Do you promise you'll be home at a reasonable hour?"

"I promise," Isabella replied diplomatically, knowing for certain that no matter what time she arrived home, she would still get there before he did. "And I won't drink. On my honour."

He dithered for a moment, making a discomforted face, before sighing heavily.

"Alright, but please come find me if anything goes wrong."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead smiled brightly.

"Thank you!" She adjusted his mask so that it was a little straighter on his face and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. "Have fun, Ido!"

"Behave yourself," he chided fondly, and she had to fight to not repeat his words back to him.

She felt a little lighter as she broke away from her brother, and began to walk around the piazza, looking for her friends who had said they would be around this area. It was hard to recognise anyone however, and she meandered around the crowds surrounding the large formation of dancers in the centre of the square.

Deciding it would be best to wait in one area, she placed herself a little further back from the crowds with her back to one of the many columns, and lifted her mask off her face so that she would be better recognised.

The combination of dancers and fireworks were engrossing entertainment, and she was so busy paying attention to them that she didn't notice when someone came and stood next to her.

"You seem lonely," he joked. Isabella jumped somewhat and turned to look at a tall gentleman wearing an intricate half-mask decorated with a family coat of arms she didn't recognise. He smiled as their gaze met.

"Why aren't you dancing?" He asked conversationally. "I doubt it's because you can't find a partner."

She felt her cheeks heat up and smiled coyly despite herself. She was not very good with new acquaintances, and often avoided talking to strangers unless she could help it. Tonight however, she felt a little more courageous.

"I am a terrible dancer," she replied with some honesty, though she kept her tone light to avoid sounding self-pitying. "I prefer to watch, it's harder to embarrass myself that way."

The man gave a hearty chuckle at her words. "I'm sure you're exaggerating."

"I assure you I am not," she laughed with him, her gaze turning out to the dancers. "I have never been very good at it."

"Perhaps you just haven't had the right partner," he reasoned; swiftly, he held his hand out to her. "Shall we see if I can teach you?"

She felt her heart thump erratically. She wasn't used to such forward actions, and it shook her courage slightly. She hesitated for a moment.

The man tilted his head at her playfully.

"If you'd rather not, I understand. Just know I will be forever heartbroken if you refuse me."

She could not help but giggle at his words.

"Well I suppose we wouldn't want that," she lingered for a moment more before biting the bullet and taking his hand. "Lead the way then."

To her utter dismay, he immediately led them to the centre of the dancers.

She had been exaggerating somewhat about being a terrible dancer, but still did not feel comfortable in being watched by so many people at once. Her discomfort must have been clear on her face, for the man spoke to her encouragingly as they drew near each other in the dance.

"No need to be so nervous," his voice was loud over the music, but there was an intimate nature to his tone. "You're doing fine."

Who was this man? He spoke to her as if he knew her, but she was sure she had never met him. She didn't recognise his family coat of arms either, and wondered if he was a friend of a friend.

"Who are you?" She asked as they circled each other.

"I thought the point of Carnevali was mystery," the man teased with a grin. "It would be wrong to spoil the fun, would it not?"

"I suppose. Will you at least tell me if we've met before?" Isabella asked, unable to stop herself from smiling at his good-humoured nature.

"We haven't," he replied. "I know for certain I would remember meeting you before."

She felt her cheeks heat up again and turned her gaze upwards and away from him just as another stream of fireworks danced into the sky.

The display made her heart thump excitedly with its extravagance, and she forgot for a moment that she was supposed to be dancing until she took a few too many steps forward and stumbled directly in her partner.

"I'm sorry! Sorry!" She squeaked, mortified and struggling to right herself.

The man laughed, delicately taking hold of her arms to steady her.

"Are you alright?"

"I told you, I'm a terrible dancer." She laughed at herself, trying to cover the feeling of intense embarrassment.

He turned his gaze upwards to the fireworks. "In your defence, these are very distracting."

She looked up too, her smile growing. "They're beautiful, aren't they?"

In the corner of her eye, she saw him give her a rather tender smile that made her stomach jolt - it was a very unfamiliar feeling.

"They are." He agreed obligingly before holding out his hand to her again. "Shall we try this dance once more?"

"If you don't think it'll affect your health," Isabella joked, still a little red-faced.

"You were doing fine right before the end," he replied amusedly. "And you could dance awfully all night, I don't think anyone would notice with how captivating you look."

She felt herself smile foolishly. "Please, all these compliments are going to give me a large head."

He chuckled, looking somewhat guilty.

"I'm sorry, am I being too forward?"

And although in any other case, these actions would seem forward, she shook her head. There was something in this person's demeanour that helped him pull it off.

"No," she replied softly. "Not at all."

Wordlessly, they both began to dance again. Circling around each other as they had before.

"Can I ask you your name?" He asked suddenly as they twirled around, in Isabella's case much more carefully.

She pretended to be suddenly aloof, though the affect was ruined somewhat by the grin that she could not shift away.

"You can, if I can ask you yours first."

He laughed. "I suppose that's fair. I'm Paulo."

"Paulo...?"

"Paulo Giorno."

She had never heard of that family, nor of him - but deduced that if perhaps she saw his face, she might recognise him.

"I'm Isabella Mancini," she replied, deeming it fair to share her identity.

He smiled broadly. "It's nice to meet you, Isabella."

"And you, Paulo." She felt a moment of daring, and adopted a light tone. "Though technically one does not truly know someone until they see their face."

He gave a mock-indignant sigh, though he was smiling.

"Alright, fine."

He reached behind his head and unraveled the mask swiftly and Isabella felt her heart thump excitedly again.

She could already tell that he was handsome from the features visible with the mask on, but she hadn't expected that he would be as good-looking as he was without it.

His eyes were almost the exact dark shade of his hair, and she had not seen it before, but now spotted a dimple on his cheek when he smiled.

She did not recognise him, but she found that she didn't particularly care.

The blush on her cheeks heated up once more as he cocked his head to the side playfully.

"What?" He asked with a grin. "Not what you were expecting?"

"No!" She said instinctively, before sputtering embarrassedly. "I mean, yes! No, wait-"

She felt her face heat further with embarrassment, and she turned her gaze away from him as they continued to dance.

She heard Paulo chuckle again.

"You're very pretty when you blush, Isabella."

She repressed a grin at the compliment, still rather embarrassed.

"You're very sweet," she replied, unable to help her honesty - though she continued to keep her gaze away from him.

"No, just honest. But thank you." He sounded amused, but genuine. And as the music came to a finish and the crowds began to clap, she forced herself to look at him again - her heart thumping diligently against her chest.

"There," he said with another grin. "That wasn't so bad was it? But I have all night if you think there's room for improvement."

"Isabella?"

She felt herself jerk awake as the sound of gentle tapping echoed around the room. She sat up in her bed, irritatedly wiping the tears that had continued to fall down her face as she'd slept.

"Isabella?" Ido repeated, sounding a little worried. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she responded, hoping that the thickness in her voice would pass for tiredness. "Just fell asleep. I'll be down in a moment."

"Alright dearest," Ido replied kindly, and she heard him walk down the hallway.

She got up from the bed and paced the room once again, agitatedly unbraiding her side plait and doing it again more tidily after catching a glimpse of how messy her hair was in her vanity mirror across the room.

She was angry with herself for falling asleep when she should have been trying to decide what to do, and she still had no clue.

She needed advice, though the idea of talking to Ido about such a topic was a mortifying one.

Perhaps Claudia then? Surely her best friend would be most helpful - the only issue came from the fact that Isabella's object of affection happened to be her best friend's brother.

But surely she would not be angry, or act strangely? She didn't seem the type to be protective of her brother in that way.

Isabella decided that this was the best option. She would visit Claudia and ask for her guidance - how difficult could that be?

She grimaced at her reflection as she checked herself over once again, making sure that any trace of tears or distress was gone from her appearance.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of her bedroom and headed downstairs.