Chapter 14

The feeling of shame engulfed me for the past two weeks. I could not bring myself to eat, the churning in my stomach never stopped. I would watch the priests and people walk to the Vatican while I stood in the crowds. They all had been faithful except I. They would gossip with their friends and chat about simple topics. His name arouse from one group and quickly spread through the body of people like a wildfire. They're calm state would be replaced with shaky hands and nervous laughter. My face would turn a bright pink when I heard his name, remembering why in the first place I was so ashamed.

It was too terrible to explain without me laughing anxiously or my face turning a bright pink while my voice quieted. I hadn't told anyone, but I was practicing in front of the mirror, to be less ashamed.

We had kissed. Ezio and I, I didn't want to but his hands held my head tightly; how could I refuse? I didn't assume what was going to happen next, he just told me that we should get out of the rain and we entered the small abandoned home. If I knew what he was attempting to do I would have excused myself and left. But I didn't, and now I am burdened with bashfulness. I do admit to myself that I did in fact enjoy myself, but I would never do anything out of wedlock again. Ever.

After the whole situation I quickly walked home, my dress soaking wet and fatigue. I walked down the hallways quickly trying to be unseen. I looked around for Leonardo, ready to walk away from him and find a different route to my room. He would question me and state that I stink with the smell of Ezio. Once I finally reached my room I threw myself on my bed, I decided to lay there and gain the energy to undress and ease under the sheets.

I walked down the small church near the marketplace. I was sure that today I would come to terms with what happened. I would tell the priest to confine to me and he would obviously agree.

I sat down in the black box, and straighten my dress before speaking.

"Could I be frank, Father?"

I heard shuffling in the other side of the black box.

"Begin," the muffled voice said.

His voice was strangely familiar. I tried to pin point his voice to a character, but decided that it must have been a priest who spoke at the Vatican one time.

"Father, I believe I have made a mistake," I began, "I had done some...things, with another."

"What 'things', you must be more exact."

I came to sudden realization, I knew who the owner of this voice is. I pulled open the window dividing my and priest. His eyes smiled, though I couldn't see his mouth since it was covered with a cloth.

"I didn't know that you were a priest," I stated, my eyebrow cocked while he removed the cloth revealing his amused smile.

He shrugged his shoulders, "it's a new hobby of mine."

I pursed my lips, watching Ezio pull down his hood and tuck the cloth away in the small coin purse hanging on his belt.

"I hoping to get some input for my current situation."

He looked at me, his smile fading on his face, but not his eyes. "your priest has no input to give you."

He leant over and kissed my cheek, forcing them to red and a burning hot. I tried to pull my head away, but it stayed where it was refusing to listen to me.

"Will you walk me back?" I asked.

He rubbed the back of his neck, "I am sorry Madonna, I'm not welcome there."

I nodded, a little disappointed that I couldn't spend more time with him.

"Well, I must be leaving," I said standing up to reach for the door.

"Farewell."

Before leaving I visited the market, which wasn't too far away, and spent the day buying fabric and supplies for the costumes and masks. The walk back to Castle Saint Angelo was terrible. My new shoes squished my toes together making it uncomfortable to walk. The church I had decided to visit was a 45 minute walk. By the time I reached my room I had been worn out completely. A maid had visited me asking if I was going to join them for supper.

We ate supper together, it didn't matter if you we're the gardener of the top chief, we all had dinner together. It would be a riot, people passing food back and fourth. I would sit next to Leonardo, who would build structures or faces with his food. I told the maid that I would not be joining them. Seeing Leonardo still sent a pang through my chest.

I began to undress to finally sleep. The warm glow of the fire lit the room, giving me enough light to see. There was a letter on the table, addressed to me. I called for a butler hoping he would be able to read the letter to me. I stood by the fire watching the butler examine the letter, he took in a deep breath and began...

It couldn't be true. No, this can't be happening. How? Why? Who? What did I ever do to him? I told the butler to leave, I picked up the letter on my dresser and threw it into the fire, devastated with what was written on it. How could he say such a thing of me, slandering me, but all he said was true, or was he playing a sick trick on me.

I sat the edge of the bed, watching the name burn before my eyes. When the ashes only remained I could still hear the name ringing in my ears. Niccolo Machiavelli.