Celestine gently sits up, her feet find the carpet and her toes fiddle with the soft bristles of the fabric underneath the soles of her feet; Arno takes her by the hand as she stands up, she stretches to relieve the crick in her back and her neck. As an alternative to a robe, he dresses her with the Assassin's long coat, concealing her rosy pink corset—not wanting to let her undergarment be exposed he buckles the coat shut only to slightly reveal her stomach—then he helps her put on her boots without the greaves.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, grazie."

Arno takes the lead in getting out of the room with Celestine in his hand, they strode through the hall passing by a few of the maids attending in certain areas of the mansion. As they walk the corridor, Celestine did not allow herself to be perceived as weak or invalid by anyone in the mansion—be it the servants, the intendant, Madame Gouze, or the Assassins—some of the Assassins who were lodging in the mansion saw her; she noticed different expressions in their faces as she passed by them—some were bowing their heads as they acknowledge her presence, as for the others they were looking at her warily, giving out vague signals for Celestine to start having ideas running in her mind produced mostly by anxiety and paranoia—she wonders if they were relieved to see her finally awake or, in a way, afraid. They descend to the bottom of the stairs and turn right to the passage's doorway guarded by Octavien with a different corseque and another Assassin in beige robes.

At the sight of Celestine standing before them, the other Assassin flinched and straightened his back as if he were a royal guard.

"At ease, young man," she chuckles tenderly and then turns to Octavien who hasn't found his words yet, "It looks as though you've seen Lazarus rise from his grave—only this time, it's a woman."

"Figuratively so," Octavien jokingly blurts, "But I'm glad you're up and up now, Celestine."

"I wish to see the Council—and I'm sure they're dying to see me as well."

"Of course. They missed you, they were sitting on pins and needles while you were still locked in your room." Arno.

They all chuckled—except for the beige-robed Assassin who snuck a small laugh under his chin—Octavien relaxes his stance.

"I hope they are reasonable today, I think pardoning myself in a sense would not be a waste of my time to be supposedly resting." Celestine.

"I'm sure they'll make it worth your while." Octavien.

They pass through the manned barricade, quietly descending the stairs and stopping on the landing—for a moment, Celestine stops in her tracks and looks to her right, she sees the golden cage where the great Assassin Thomas de Carneillon's was once kept and now unlocked by Arno with the use of the keys and solving the riddles and puzzles. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, her lids shoot up and her vision is changed—she sees faint lines invisible to the naked eye, she sees the glowing glyph of Mercurius etched on the stone wall just right above the lectern.

"Celestine?" for a moment, Arno's voice sounded distant and hollow shortly followed by an echo, at the faint nudge of his elbow on her arm she snaps out of it and her vision returns to normal.

She inhales sharply as if she's been underwater for too long.

"Celestine, are you all right? Do you want to go back to the room?"

"No, I just… I just had tapped into something…"

"You mean… your sight?"

"Yes."

"Are you still going to them?"

"Of course."

Arno opens the door for her, she goes in first and he follows, they are now in the tunnel that intersects with the narrow hall of the Brotherhood. She noticed that the candles are close to a full meltdown, close to being nothing but burnt wicks sitting on a hardened puddle of wax on rock, while the other candles seem to be still standing tall. Then she focuses her eyes on where she's going, she greets the merchant who stays—or practically even lives in the entry chambers of the Brotherhood—by the halls before setting foot on the grand foyer.

For some reason, Arno recalled what it looked like after the battle in Xavier's mansion party: some of the Assassins who once laid down there decided to stay and heal there instead of squeezing themselves in the café which was urgently closed for emergency reasons—which were the Assassins themselves. There were a very few Assassins lodging in the study hall upstairs, even just bystanders would choose to stay by the marble railings of the balcony overlooking the foyer and the very entrance corridor.

"Are they all still healing?"

"No, some decided to take the week off after what happened. Most of them have healed now. Their wounds weren't really that grave, just exhaustion and fatigue."

Deep inside Celestine, she felt like she was the cause of all those ailments that the Assassins had—the fatigue, the exhaustion, and the wounds. A part of her regrets going out of her bedroom.

They go through the gate between the two grand staircases leading to the study, they now stand before the three grandmasters of the Brotherhood.

"Celestine?" Quemar starts.

"You seem surprised seeing me out of my bedridden state, Master."

"Don't take it the wrong way, Celestine—we are glad you are well now." Guillame.

"We have heard the news, Celestine, though the execution was reckless it still afforded Paris to be free of its shackles." Tremet comments in her regular manner.

"I suppose all of us can at least breathe loosely now—with the Grandmaster gone," Guilllame tells to his fellow Mentors but suddenly remembers something so he turns to Celestine, "By the way, what was it that Xavier wanted from us?"

There was a brief moment of silence, Celestine looks down to the checkered marbled floor as she tries to put the right things into words so as to not let the Mentors misinterpret her.

"Xavier wanted to retrieve the Sword of Eden to avenge Germain."

"Blinded by vengeance could lead to a massive catastrophe," Trenet.

"To himself." Celestine cuts in.

The three mentors agreed to what Celestine's comical remark and when the mood shifted back to normal, and they poured out all their gratefulness to the two Assassins.

"Celestine, thank you." Master Trenet was the first to give her thanks to the young Assassin, with her hand on her heart and making a slight bow to Celestine.

Guillame and Quemar follow, doing the exact same gesture as Trenet to Celestine and she felt like her heart will drop anytime soon due to the immense beating of her chest. She doesn't know how to respond properly—at least that's what she thinks—and she can't decide whether to bow and gesture back or thank them and say her respects as well.

It was too much to take even for this feisty lady.

"Is there something that you would like to tell us, Celestine?"

"N-Nothing…" She stutters, she was too obvious in projecting herself and abruptly bows while avoiding being too rude to the mentors—not waiting for their dismissal as soon as she leaves the chamber, Arno follows suit.

"Is there something wrong?" Arno.

Celestine stops in her tracks, she slowly turns around—as if ashamed to face her own lover—and he meets her sullen eyes.

"Do they know? Will they approve?"

Celestine's hand trails down to her lower abdomen, Arno notices this.

"Of course they will approve." Arno walks up closer to her, rubbing both of her arms, "Look, they won't mind at all. If you want something for the next days, or weeks, or even months—just tell me."

Celestine fell silent, her eyes straying away from her, and then returns to Arno's gaze.

"I just want rest, that's all…"

"Alright, let's get back upstairs."

Arno leads Celestine back to the mansion, escorting her back to her bedroom, and just when he takes off her coat.

"Hey, you'll be fine."

Celestine pulls herself closer to Arno, embracing him, and he hugs her back as he rests his cheek on the top of her head.

"Our family will be fine." Arno reassures.

Not long, as Arno leaves Celestine's room, a Brother stands waiting for him by the rails of the second floor's staircase.

"The Mentors ask for you." he firmly said and left without a word.

Arno headed downstairs and enters the Mentors' chamber, he faces them alone and it seemed that they have never left their places after Celestine and Arno left together.

"We sensed something that is troubling Madame Celestine." Mentor Quemar begins shortly after Arno has presented himself to them.

"Yes, Mentor."

"May you elaborate on that? She has become a bit secretive regarding certain things."

"The attack at the manor," Arno replies, "It haunts her."

"Why? She has done no fault in the siege."

"She takes the full responsibility of the injuries—as well as the casualties—of our fellow Assassins who joined the siege. It has become a chip in her shoulder. It's not good for the baby to have the mother overthinking such things."

"So… she's carrying." Trenet starts.

Arno is taken aback but he kept calm, "Yes."

"How many days has it been?"

"According to Madame Helena, it's roughly two or three weeks old."

There was no response from the Mentor, the exchange ceased for a moment so Arno continued.

"And yes, I am the father. I will neither deny it nor shirk from it."

"Is there something that you would like to tell us?" Guillame.

Arno stops for a brief moment and tries to complete the sentence and make it sound polite as possible.

"It seems that Celestine wishes for a peaceful life during her pregnancy and perhaps until the child is born. I might bring her to the countryside or in my old home in Versailles."

"We understand fully of your situation; you may leave at your will but at our knowledge. That's not a difficult bargain, isn't it, Monsieur Dorian?"

"Not at all."

"Then we have discussed this in good terms. You may return upstairs now."

Arno bows politely and steps out of the chamber. Returning to his bedroom, leaving his pregnant wife in peace inside her own bedroom, he retires on his armchair in front of the hearth. Then, for a moment, on his study desk, he decides what he should do next—but not for the sake of his wife being pregnant, it's because he's been planning it ever since; he only meant to surprise Celestine… with an engagement ring.


Arno's POV

For two months, I took care of her and our unborn child. Celestine compensated for the trouble she has brought to our brothers by helping them mend and heal from their wounds—most of them suffered grave injuries and it took some time for them to fully recover—it was a constant cycle of fetching medicine from the apothecary and bringing it into the mansion to tend the injured. There was even a time that we required a cart to carry the supply crate.

The coin was not much of a problem as I have banked some in case of emergencies. The others volunteered to pour out their own for the sake of helping the others—for a fair share at the very least.

Celestine admitted that she was ashamed and afraid to face the other Assassins—they made her much more nervous than facing the Mentors—because she carried the burden of their injuries, the sting of their bruises, and the wrenching ache of their broken bones.

Indeed, it was her plan. She must have been so indulged with her leadership for the infiltration that she knew her obligations and responsibilities. Such a trait is both a blessing and a curse.

"You need to stop carrying their burdens." I tell her.

"But I brought it upon them."

"It's our occupational hazard as Assassins."

I watch her eyelids drop, she looks lower to ground and then her hand crawled up to her belly, carefully clutching our baby.

"Worrying won't do good on the baby."

"Yes, I know." Her voice trembles as she continues preparing the supplies for one of the Assassins having a gunshot wound on his bicep.

"Remember when… I got shot and you had to take out the wound out of me?"

She smiled, only a little but still she did.

"You must be reminiscing how much of a whine I am."

She scoffs laughingly, "Well, it was quite difficult taking out the bullet."

"Was there any other morbid solution?"

She rolls her eyes up to ponder, "It'd be much more painful if I used that method."

"What would that be?"

"It involves sticking in a freshly-heated blade into the flesh."

The thought of it was ghastly, nonetheless, but of course I had to lift up her spirits, "Surely it's not that bad."

"I wouldn't want to try it, if I were you."

She starts to chuckle and then grows into a laugh.

"When was the last time I saw you laugh like that?"

"It's been so long, my dear."

I caress her cheek and we went out of the room together, we split directions—I took the direction to the showroom and she went to the guest rooms.

As I was wrapping one of my Brother's wounds with fresh new gauze, I have been noticing his gaze and I notice him make a quick glimpse of Celestine before she disappeared into the hallways.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" he suddenly starts as the blood blots up into a red circle in the center of the bandage.

"What?"

"The child inside her. A boy or a girl?"

I paused, unsure what to answer, "Well, regardless of either, I just want it to be healthy."

"Aye. May it be birthed in a peaceful world."

"Isn't this already a peaceful world, my friend?"

"I wouldn't prefer this world of whores, plague, and more soldiers rounding about the city as the ideal place for a child to grow up—give it a chance and do yourselves a favor at the same time, at least for once."

It made me wonder more, then this must not be really the place to raise a family. Even with the Master of the Templars dead, there's bound to be another one to take Xavier's place—perhaps someone more deranged than him—then they would know of my family.

I can't let that happen.


I know I am super late because I had so much to do and I almost couldn't touch this series, I'm really sorry, guys. And to think I'm almost done with the story, I just don't wanna lleave this out after a very improper hiatus because I hate doing a thesis that I am 30% interested in. One of my overbearing groupmates became really pushy with time constraints so we were forced to focus solely on the thesis—mind you I had a production work that time in school. The sorrows of being a Communication major.

Although I'm glad that I still get to write this in the remaining days of my vacation.

Apparently, I changed my name. Again. But I'm not going to bother replacing "Xielle" with the new one in the previous chapters.

Veron.