Jessica couldn't believe that she had been here for six months. It had been half a year since she had woken up on that bench in Firenze and met Leo and saved Federico and Petruccio's lives. It had been half a year since she had last seen her family. Half a year since she had last eaten McDonalds or had chocolate milk. She had come to accept the fact that she would not see her time again. She only wished that she had had a chance to say goodbye.

She stood leaning against the banister, overlooking the hall and watched the celebrations. It was Federico's twenty-first birthday and the entire population of Monteriggioni had managed to squeeze themselves within the four walls. Now they were all thoroughly drunk.

Jessica had never liked alcohol or its effects so she abstained and watched in faint amusement as Federico shamelessly threw himself at a rather attractive older woman in a low-cut dress. He had seemed to lose interest in her over these past months, for which she was thankful. He still cared for her, but the affectionate gestures and puppy-dog looks had become far and in between.

She no longer knew what she thought of he and his brother. Petruccio and Claudia were dear friends to her, of that she had no doubt, but she could not bring herself to become close with the older Auditore men. The picnic she shared with the White Hood was the last friendly gesture they had shared and she had not said much to Federico in some time, but this was not without great effort on her part. The men had been confused and undoubtedly hurt by her sudden emotional retreat from them, but she couldn't help it. She was compassionate, and she cared about everyone, including Federico and Ezio… But they were murderers. They had killed so many and planned to do so again. She refused to play a part in this.

A headache pounded behind her eyes as the hall boomed with drunken laughter and she winced, leaning away from the room. Jessica thought distractedly of the last letter she had received from Leo. He had sensed her darkening mood, and her descent into discontent and deep unhappiness. He begged her to return to Firenze. He missed her greatly. She could assist him in his growing popularity and demand of work and in return he would provide for her everything she could desire. She only had to return 'home'.

Lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice Mario appear beside her until he cleared his throat loudly and commanded her attention. "Are you having fun, Marietta?" he asked. She noticed that he was of the appearance of one who was behaving more drunk then they actually were. This was unusual for the man who she had many times helped to stumble to his bed, blind drunk and giggling to himself.

"Oh yeah. Heaps of fun," she answered dryly, watching him in the corner of her eye, waiting for him to speak.

It was a long moment of silence between them as they looked out at the sea of party-goers, she with vague snarl of disgust and Mario with quiet contemplation.

"You are unhappy here."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise but she didn't answer though he left her time to.

"Weeks ago, when we returned from our victory at San Gimignano, you ran to your room and locked the door and refused to come out. Federico and Ezio believed it was the blood which frightened you and it was the fear that made you sick."

Mario was... an enigma, to say the least. He was one of the very few people she had met that she simply could not get a sound reading of. He had so many layers. He never said what she believed he would and though he acted the loud, rowdy drunk, he was more prone to quiet reading in his study and spending hours staring out across the green rolling hills, speckled with farms and vineyards. He was also deceptively observant.

"You did not leave your room for three days and you only allowed Claudia entrance and only to deliver to you your meals. But it was not fear which drove you to your isolation, was it? No. It was anger. Your heart is not weakened by the thought of bloodshed, but hardened. You see us as criminals. As murderers." He sighed at her silence. "God knows the world needs devout pacifists such as yourself, but I need you to understand… Do not hate them for what they have done."

"I don't…"

"I see it in your eyes, Marietta, and so do they. Understand that the things we do are necessary to keep peace. If diplomacy was an option I promise you we would take it, but against the enemy we face, it is not. We must fight for our freedom. We must fight for our loved ones. You do not agree with this, and I respect that. But you must try to respect us, and all we do to keep you safe.

"Those boys care for you deeply and they owe you much. Do not reject them so hastily for things they have done which are out of their control."

Her cheeks burned and she refused to look at him. What was she to say to that? Her heart pounded with shame and guilt, but her mind remained firm. Her jaw clenched and she said nothing to him. After a moment he sighed, squeezed her shoulder and left her. He was only half right. She was angry at them, and she certainly didn't agree with the things they were doing, but she had locked herself away for three days as a result of the traumatizing visions she had suffered. She had been so scared and in so much pain. God, she prayed that never happened to her again. The problem was she still didn't understand exactly why it had happened.

That night, after the guests had stumbled out, vomiting all over themselves and leaving one hell of a mess behind, she packed the few things she owned into a bag and readied herself to leave for Florence.

The next day, she pulled on the pants she had bought so long ago and went downstairs, bag in hand. In the kitchen, she packed a larger bag with fruit and cheese and bread and took a water skin big enough to hold several liters of water.

Then she found Claudia in the workshop, sitting in a square of sunlight which streamed through the window, reading a book. Jessica admired the sixteen year old girl for a moment, observing her cheekbones and dark eyes. The fat of childhood had fallen away and now she was very much a young woman.

Those dark eyes rose from the pages and settled on her, where they widened and Jessica watched as the book fell to the ground with a thud.

"Marietta… What?" Claudia stammered.

A deep breath. "I'm leaving, Claudia."

Claudia shot to her feet with a panicked cry, "What?! Why? Where?"

"I'm going to live with Leonardo da Vinci in Firenze."

Her jaw dropped in astonishment. "Are you betrothed?"

Jessica snorted a laugh, "God, no. I'm to be his assistant is all."

"I don't understand…" Claudia shook her head, tears coming to her eyes as the shock began to wear off, "Why…?"

"I just…" Jessica sighed. "It's been months, Claudia. Months of just sitting around in this house while the men train and fight and kill. It's not the life I want. I did enough lazing around as a child. I want to go out into the world and see things and meet people and explore."

Claudia began to cry. Jessica sighed sadly and wrapped her in a tight hug, only swiftly, before she released her. "It's not forever, I promise." She squeezed Claudia's shoulder comfortingly. "I have to find Petruccio and the others. Come on."

Laying an arm across her shoulders, Jessica led the younger woman out of the house and down to the training ring where Federico and Petruccio sparred with wooden swords. Hearing their sister's cries, they immediately stopped and turned in concern to see what the matter was.

"Claudia. What's wrong?" Petruccio asked, climbing over the low wall to go to her. His hair was short and spiky, the way Jessica had liked to cut it, and he had begun to grow tall and lanky as he entered his teenage years. The sickness which had apparently plagued him as a child had not reared its head, which was curious, as Claudia had told her that it had been very serious. But now his cheeks were aglow with health and the heat of exercise, and his brown eyes wide as he looked over his sister with concern.

Federico froze upon laying eyes on the bags at Jessica's feet, packed and tied neatly. As Petruccio comforted his sister, Jessica found herself in a heated stare with the eldest Auditore.

"Where will you go?" he demanded, sounding angrier than he had right to.

"To Firenze. I will be assistant to Leonardo da Vinci."

"The painter?" She nodded, watching his lips tighten and his jaw clench. "Why now? Why leave today?" he demanded.

"It is time for me to go."

"It's not safe in Firenze. The guards—"

"It's been half a year since we left. I doubt anyone will remember my face."

"Marietta—"

"I'm going, Federico. There's nothing you can say or do that will change my mind."

Claudia let out a sob and she felt Petruccio take hold of her hand. Jessica sighed heavily, wishing this had gone smoother. Staring solemnly at Federico as he ran a hand over his face and seemed to be searching desperately for something to say that would make her stay. The look on his face saddened her heart. "Look, I'm sorry. I've got to go find Mario and your brother. They would never forgive me if I didn't say goodbye."

She heard Petruccio choke behind her, "They're at the stables, I think."

Jessica turned her head and smiled softly at him in thanks, squeezing his hand once before letting go to pick up her bags. She heard Federico storm toward her and she steeled herself in preparation for an argument.

"Marry me."

The words hung heavily in the air and then swung toward her, nearly knocking her off her feet. Her heart thudded and her stomach lurched as if she were on a rollercoaster that had just begun its plummet.

Slowly, she turned to Federico and found that he was leaning over the low wall of the training ring. His long, dark hair was pulled back in a low ribbon, tendrils had stuck to his glistening face and his chest heaved like he had run a marathon. His deep brown eyes gleamed in the concaves of his face. He was breathtaking in his masculine glory, she had to admit. His words reverberated through her skull and crashed through her ribs. Jessica had never thought to hear those words, not anytime soon and to be honest; they were the worst thing he could have said.

How was she supposed to respond? She didn't want to hurt him. God, she had thought he was getting over her. Moving on. Obviously she was dead wrong. She could see the hope glimmering in his caramel eyes. Hell, was this really happening? What did he honestly think she would say?

Jessica couldn't find a sentence, not even a single word. She backed away from him, bags in hand, and quickly looked away before she could see the anger and heartbreak. She needed to leave before she could do anymore damage to this man.

Without another glance to any of the Auditores, she fled. Damn Mario. Damn the White Hood. Damn Federico. Wasn't it enough that she had saved their lives? How dare they ask anymore of her? So much more than she was able to give.

Assassins. Marriage. Love.

Sebastian was saddled quickly, and the nice young stableboy skilfully strapped her bags to his back and then wished her safe travels. Federico's proposal echoed within her angry, panicked mind as she climbed onto Sebby's back.

She should have replied to Federico. She should have hugged Claudia and Petruccio tight. She should have sought out Mario and the White Hood and properly thanked and bid them farewell. But she couldn't get past Federico's words. They were icing on the cake of her stress and worry.

So she left Monteriggioni without another glance, following the signs that pointed to Florence.

Jessica Raso distracted herself with songs of her world which she sang loud and long. Her left palm burned with fury. She ignored that too.