Arno's POV

The entire procession we were silent and Celestine would look down on her uncle's canopied corpse from time to time and she would randomly look at me with those sorrowful eyes—as if the glimmer I see in her eyes when she was in such a happy mood suddenly got dull.

When we finally got to the mansion, we stopped by the east entrance because if we entered the main entrance that leads to the café then we would have scared off the customers and we'd lose income.

"Wait here." Celestine says and then she enters the mansion.

Celestine's POV

As I entered the house, I went upstairs to Juliette's bedroom and she answered the door.

"Celestine! Where's… Where's Father?"

My anxiety made me implode and then I went inside her room without answering her question and I don't have the courage to face her because I have failed her.

"Juliette, listen to me, alright?"

"Celestine, where's my father?"

I shook my head and she began to gasp for air and burst in crying.

"I did everything I could, Juliette." I muttered shamefully.

"What did they do to him?!"

At first I couldn't speak because I know just describing it to her is just as painful as seeing it personally, "They killed him—possibly knocking him out unconscious—then they brought him to the tanneries in Saint-Jacques where he was skinned alive, his skin was made into leather under the request of Antoine St. Just."

That's all I can sum up.

"Where is he now?" she shuddered.

"Venez. Il est dehors."

I held her by the hand and then brought her downstairs to where Arno and the tanner was waiting for me.

"It's best if you don't… take off the cover." I suggested.

Juliette began to scream and cry. Her screams were so loud that it drew the attention of the customers still lounging inside the café and they looked through the windows—some were even squeezing themselves between other people to take a look at the commotion.

As much as I wanted to shoo them away, Mme. Gouze would scold me for scaring away the customers hence the low income for apparently three weeks—or maybe a month depending on how much trauma I have caused to the overlooking customers.

Pourquoi font-ils bavardent une sorte de divertissement malade?

I heard Mme. Gouze and the other maids shooing away the customers from the windows. I found it rude of them watching Juliette mourn over her father. How about I watch at them in their kin's funeral, let's see who gets the last laugh.

I was holding back my tears as I bit my lip and tightened my grip on my arms as I try to hug myself. It's not at all helping, you know.

I reached for Juliette—it felt like she was so close and yet so far—and then she instantly threw herself in my arms longing for comfort.

"There, there." I cooed, but I know it is useless as hell.

"The man who did this?"

"Both servant and master are dead."

"Good."

"We'll bury him tonight, Juliette. Is that alright? So he can rest now."

"Alright."

I turned to the tanner and then fished for money—I gave him 300 livres and forgave him. Besides, I think he has a family and that he needed some money to buy food for them.

"You can go home now, monsieur. Thank you for your help."

"Thank you too, Miss. And I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven."

The tanner bows as he leaves and then asked help from Mme. Gouze as we began to close the café. This city doesn't seem to sleep anyway and organizing my uncle's burial is no easy task.

"Hmm, I could ask someone to make the coffin and have it delivered here." Mme. Gouze.

"Aren't we going to need a carriage to transport the coffin?" I ask.

"The carriage bringing the coffin will be the one transporting the body." Gouze.

"I'm staying here until the coffin arrives." I stood my ground.

"Very well—I respect that." Gouze bows her head and then enters the café.

Through the window, I saw her sitting down on one of the customer tables in front of the closed stage. She must be already writing a letter requesting the coffin and carriage. Good.

To pass the time, Juliette, Arno and I stayed by my uncle's body—still lying on the cot—and Juliette lit some candles while waiting.

She and I prayed silently while Arno watched—from my peripheral vision he was watching us pray—and then not less than two hours, the coffin finally arrived.

The coachman dismounted the carriage and then approached us as he removed his hat in respect for our dead.

"Good evening, mademoiselle." The coachman.

"Just in time, the candles are melting out." Juliette.

"Here, let me." Arno stands up and then helps the coachman in carrying the coffin.

Juliette and I watched the two men bring in the wooden coffin here in the outer foyer. They both lay it down and open up the lid, Juliette and I stepped aside for the coachman and Arno to transfer Uncle Garconi's body into his casket. The man had brought his own hammer and a few nails and once they have already closed it, he began to seal off the lid with the nails that he had brought.

He did his work swiftly and naturally, he and Arno carried it again and then set it down on the carriage.

"You two ladies ride along with the coach, I'll walk ahead—making sure there are no extremists waiting for an ambush." Arno.

For some reason, I had no choice but to agree with him. I mean, Juliette needs security—lei è una molto sensibile.

He was gentleman enough to hold Juliette until she got herself on the coach's seat next to the driver, he offered his hand to me and I took it gently but I didn't look at him.

"Non dovresti andartene ora?" I snapped but I tried to make my tone less harsh.

We watched him speed away towards the route to the cemetery—the one where my parents are buried as well—and then the coachman snapped his reins and the horse started to pull the load.

In the middle of the ride, Juliette suddenly opened a conversation—and it was rather an unusual topic to discuss.

"Why are you so mean to him?"

I turned my head to her and tried to make up a valid explanation even though it's not as truthful as she expects.

"I'm not. That's just how I talk towards him."

"You don't talk like that to other people."

"Juliette, s'il vous plaît arrêter de poser des questions sur l'Arno." I sighed as gentle as I could.

I still regret with what I did back in the house when I was still cleaning his wounds. I regret that kiss.

The whole ride, there were no extremists at all. Good, he's gotten rid of them. Only police are the ones we see in uniform while the rest are just common folk.

The cemetery was a little far and by the time we were halfway there the sun was beginning to rise. The sky's hue was turning from dark indigo into light blue with shades of orange and yellow of sunshine.

Before we turn to the curb, on the rooftop of the very last building I found him standing there looking down on the carriage and when the sunlight pooled to the streets of Paris I saw him turn his head to the horizon of the sunrise.

He's probably thinking about Elise, hm? I guess with everything that involved the sun involves Elise as well. I've never seen her face, at least on a portrait but I suppose she's beautiful enough to make Arno look at the sun in every rise and fall and remind him of her.

Arno's POV

As I got to the last building, I stayed on top of the roof as I watched over and looked down on her. She probably has not noticed but at every alleyway I pass by, I stop and look down on her and watch her.

When I stopped at the roof of a tavern—I think—I peered down and saw her conversing with Juliette. I saw that her cousin seemed to be asking something and Juliette's face expression was benign, as for her elder cousin she had a straight face and as she turned to Juliette to reply to her, she has this steely face expression and I noticed her eyebrows pull together and then relax.

How I wish I heard what she and Juliette were talking about.

I darted forward and then dispatch the extremists from both sides using my Phantom Blade. I was lucky that there were no policemen around or else, it would have been another disaster. So much for a peaceful funeral procession for monsieur Sauveterre.

Now that these extremist rats are out of the way—for good—I went for the end of the street that leads to an intersection, I waited for the carriage to reach the same point but by then the sun was alreay rising.

Really? Did we really take long in ambushing St. Just and LaSalle in Palais du Luxembourg and in travelling on foot to the tannery and then bringing the corpse back to the café?

I never thought we'd reach the morning. I mean, this is just the burial but I guess that doesn't matter anymore.

Sunrise…

I looked down on her once again and then turned to the horizon of the sunrise. I felt my coat's ends billowing in the chilly morning breeze and heard the horse whinny as it felt the patch of sunlight beginning to pool on the soil.

I closed my eyes and then remembered my first grave mistake towards Celestine back in the café.

I really want to make things up with her, I know that my fault is somehow reversible. It will be irreversible once I'm too late.

Half of the sun was already showing along with its rays and just the glimpse of it reminded me—not of Elise—but of her Celestine herself.

I remember her smiles when we spent our times in the library, during my Italian lessons and our reading sessions that end up into long hours of conversation about varying topics that we find interesting.

The bright light reminded me of the gleaming of her soft and welcoming hazel-brown eyes. Although she might appear intimidating at first, but over time when you get to know her better, you will see the light in her eyes—especially when she smiles.

And her laughter…

Oh, her beautiful laughter.

From the softest chuckle to the loudest and cheeriest laugh coming from her, it sends the tingle in the spine that gives me that ticklish feeling that it makes me smile like a fool.

Looking down, they turned to the right and so I descended from the roof and then searched for some more extremists to dispatch—they tend to halt whatever carriage they see assuming that they have such authority. Idiots.

Scaling the building facing the one where I was a few moments ago, I ran across rooftops until I eyed on a small three-man team of bombers.

I took a cherry bomb from my pocket and then threw it at least four inches to their left and these fools walked into the lure and once the three of them were still standing there, I killed them with a poison gas bomb. Surely, the carriage must have noticed the green fog coming out from the left alley and I saw Celestine signal the coach driver to stop until the poisonous smoke has completely subsided—even the faintest wisp of that poison could choke you so it's best to wait for it to completely vaporize.

Within minutes, the three bombers that I have thrown a poison bomb at suddenly appeared from the left alley where they followed the cherry bomb lure and they acted like crazy animals as they flail their arms and mindlessly and erratically run around as if they could escape the poison that has already seeped into their lungs.

This act of theirs slightly startled the horse but Celestine managed to calm the steed down and we—with me still on the vantage point—waited if they would die already or still erratically run around in circles as they slowly succumb.

Not less than five minutes, they bombers already fell to their feet while the remainders of their strength just made them spurt out blood, bodily water and green bile through their nostrils and mouths.

"Now that that's done for, time for the next stretch of road." I told myself and continued on.

Going forward, two buildings away were four extremists—one brute, one bomber and two swordsmen—but ahead of me was a sniper so I killed that gunman first with a Phantom Blade. When I was close enough within my Phantom Blade's range to shoot a Berserk Blade to the brute as my target, I hit him at the chest.

He jerked, looked down on his torso and took out the blade. He started to go groggy and he shook his head to relieve himself slightly of the drug coated at the tip of the blade. He screams—meaning that the drug has already spread across his bloodstreams.

He swings his axe at his two scrawny extremists—the two swordsmen—while this bomber tried to ride on the brute's back so as to halt him in his crazed state but this only resulted to the brute biting the bomber's hand that was clutched onto his mouth.

It's kind of interesting that whenever the berserk victim bites a fellow companion, he gets infected and becomes berserk as well. Kind of like how disease-ridden rats bite dogs or cats and infect them. But in this case of humans, these two berserk victims don't see each other as allies but still as enemies because their human cognition is blinded and clouded by the venomous coating of the Berserk Blade.

It's quite interesting, believe it or not.

When the carriage was halfway to the spot where these four extremists are killing each other, Celestine stops the coach again and waits for the extremists to finish each other off. The horse was just simply neighing but it obviously can hear the commotion happening. Even the common folk watched in confusion and fear—they have no idea what's going on with the four extremists who are fighting and killing each other when they were supposed to work together.

The brute got killed by the bomber and then one of the two swordsmen gunned down the drugged bomber but he got the chance to deliver a killing blow to his finisher—leaving one alive.

Just as I was about to kill him with a Phantom Blade, Celestine finished the job as she loaded hers and shot that surviving extremist down and told the driver to continue.

I followed them in their next turn and then stood at the left column of buildings as the coach wheeled on and then waited for them.

From my vantage point, I overlooked the next turn that the coach was taking and they were already close to the cemetery and that cemetery looked rather familiar to me because there happens to be two tombs with angels on top—the angel on the leftmost side was one holding a cross while the other stone angel standing in the middle of the cemetery was holding a spear and is looking down.

That's the cemetery where the de la Serre's are!

Oh right, I remember. Celestine was the girl I saw visiting two headstones in the same cemetery when I was visiting Monsieur Francois and… err… his daughter.

Back then she was still a rebel and now she's an Assassin in the Brotherhood of Paris.

Comme le temps passe.

I noticed that the coach was beginning to slow down and when they came to a complete halt, I descended as fast as I could and then helped the driver to pull out the coffin from the back of the carriage. I shouldered the casket and then we followed Celestine and Juliette.

When we entered the cemetery, there was already a ditch next to two headstones. Silently, I read them as…

Absolon Sauveterre 1710-1751

Cateline Sauveterre 1713-1751

They're Celestine's parents…

"Hello, Mother, Father—look, Uncle's come to join you." Celestine says sorrowfully.

She looks at the open ditch and then turns to the coachman.

"Madame Gouze had everything settled, Miss. No need to pay me."

She nods and then turns to her parents' tombs.

I know that Francois and Elise's headstones are just right behind me but this is more important for me. I'm staying here whether Celestine likes it or not, if she ever falls to her knees and burst into tears—I'll be there to catch her.

We gently put down the casket in the ditch and then we began shoveling back the soil to cover it up.

"Farewell, Papa." Juliette whimpers.

"Rest well, Uncle." Celestine say as she hugs her mourning cousin. "You've been my mentor after my father and for that, I am grateful. I'm sorry that I wasn't there soon enough to help you and your sons but you can trust me in taking care of Juliette—I know that you do trust me. May you guide us, Uncle, along with Mother and Father—you have always been a good man. You three rest well—until we meet again, I suppose."

The two cousins made the Sign of the Cross as their relative was already buried. As for Celestine, she knelt down, opened the right side of her coat and then produced three roses and surprisingly they are still fresh.

Monsieur Sauveterre's headstone read:

Garconi Hugo Sauveterre 1705-1796

"Resquiescat in Pace." I overheard Celestine mutter to her three family members.

As she stood up, she put her arm around Juliette and I turned around to make her at least take notice of me. It's beginning to crush me—Celestine not noticing me almost the entire morning. She did turn around but her eyes were focused on two headstone and then she turned to me.

"You can visit them if you like—or in your case, just her. I'm taking Juliette home." She said bitterly and walked on, escorting Juliette to the carriage and asking the coachman to bring her back to the mansion safely.

She comes back walking into the cemetery again as I stood behind the de la Serre headstones.

"Why didn't you come with her?"

"I wanted to visit my parents. Go mind your own business." She hissed and I watched her sit down on the grass and stare at her parents' headstone and then she buried her face on her arms as they were propped on her knees.

I didn't go to monsieur Francois and Elise's tombs, I just sat there behind their stones and watched over Celestine in which hours later I suspected her to have dozed off.

I smiled at the sight of her sleeping peacefully, of course, the girl hasn't gotten any sleep since last night. I quietly crept on her and brushed the hair away covering her face and then found her really fast asleep.

As carefully as I can, I cradled her in my arms and slowly stood up as I carried her. She nudged her face close to my chest.

She must be dreaming. How lovingly adorable.

We exited the cemetery and walked our way back to the mansion, the entire trip she was fast asleep—she's dead exhausted and restless so I guess it's just acceptable that she sleeps the whole time. She's surprisingly light and whenever I gaze down on her sleeping face, I smile and attempted to kiss her forehead and she didn't nudge.

As we arrived home, I climbed upstairs to her bedroom and then managed to gently bring her down to bed…

"Arno…" she sleepily muttered as I laid her down on her bed. I bit my lip, afraid that I must have awoken her but to my surprise she must be dreaming as her eyes were still shut and she returned to her peaceful sleep.

I tried pulling myself away slowly and steadily but I was caught on my vest by her hand and I gently pulled in close to her again. She's deeply dreaming…

I decided to lie down next to her if she's subconsciously comfortable with it.

And before I knew it, I was already asleep myself—right next to her.

ITALIAN:

Lei è una molto sensibile – she's a fragile little one.

Non dovresti andartene ora? – Shouldn't you be going now?

FRENCH:

Venez. Il est dehors. – Come. He's outside.

Pourquoi font-ils bavardent une sorte de divertissement malade? – Why do they make gossip some kind of sick entertainment?

s'il vous plaît arrêter de poser des questions sur l'Arno – please stop asking questions about Arno.

Comme le temps passe. – How time flies.

OH…

MY…

GAAAHHHDDD~~! (((((/*o*\\\\)))))

They're so adorable! And I find it really sweet and cuddly and warm! Arno is smooth as fuck~ while Celestine's a little tsundere towards him but that's okay, that happens ;)