December 14th, 1862

Baltimore, Maryland

Home of Cordelia Abigail Everts II

"Oh such a wonderful surprise!"

Margaret smiled brightly as she greeted her Aunt's live-in maid. Miriam embraced the younger woman, one that Margaret returned fully. She was exhausted from the long trip from Canada, and the welcomed warmth of the hearth that floated outward through the open door.

"Miriam. It's good to see you too!" Margaret stated as she separated from the hug. She took a deep breath, catching whiff of her favorite childhood treat. "Do…..is that cinnamon bread I smell?"

"Mmmmmhmmmm. Cordelia is in the kitchen making it right this moment. And your brother is here as well."

Margaret knew that the older woman didn't mean anything by the mention of Henry, but it did wash away the jovial mood that she was feeling. She forced a smile on her face as she nodded at the woman. She entered the home, hauling her small bag of essential travel items on her shoulder as she did so. Margaret insisted that Miriam continue helping her aunt, instead of hauling her heavy bag up the stairs. While the intricate living room wasn't the best place, Margaret dropped the bag on the floor right there and stalked to the kitchen.

Dressed in the nicest day gown she owned with a white apron on over it, Cordelia Abigail Everts the Second looked like a strange combination of homemaker and elegant hostess. The woman was kneading bread, her hands all the way up to her elbows were absolutely caked in flour while small strands of hair threatened to come out of her little braided crown. Henry was stoking the fire in the stone-made oven, his outer jacket thrown off and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. His brow was covered in sweat.

Almost as soon as she had crossed the threshold of the kitchen, Henry and Cordelia glanced towards her.

"Ah! Well, isn't this like Christmas morning!" Cordelia sighed as she straightened. "Both of my brother's children, come to visit."

Margaret must've made a face, since Cordelia smirked.

"Don't worry dear. I know that it's for Assassin business, but at the very least and so help me God, we will spend family time together. Why don't you come and help me finish this batch of bread? Then we'll have tea and get right down to discussing why you're here."

Margaret gave a small smile, and happily, donned the apron that her aunt presented her with and entered the kitchen. Those few hours making the dough, kneading the bread and waiting for it to bake were the best few hours of her life. It reminded her not only of her childhood before the Assassins, but also before the war, when she spent time with her children. She hadn't felt so at home in a long while.

After the last loaf was finished, the three of them moved into the living room with Miriam brining a kettle of tea on a silver platter. While she dished out their cups, the two siblings got down to business.

"What's waiting for us in Pennsylvania?"

Margaret drew her lips into a tight line. "Hopefully nothing. But word has it that General Lee is going to make an attack on the North in order to recruit Great Britain in as an ally."

It seemed as though the air had been sucked out of the room. Henry was mid-sip, but slowly removed the tea cup from his lips and placed it back on the saucer. He was silent as he placed the saucer on the table thoughtfully.

"Britain needs the cotton more than any other country." Margaret continued. "Their textiles are the most active in all the developed world. The American South supplies most of the cotton and now that they've been cut off from that supply, they'll try to find another way to get their cotton."

"Will they not turn to somewhere else?"

"I suspect so, but they probably want to see if the Confederacy can gain a victory over the Federal Government before throwing their lot into this chaos."

"Which they won't."

"I know. Which means we'll have another problem, but we can't address this problem until we figure the most glaring problem."

"Where are they aiming to attack? The Confederacy, I mean."

Margaret sighed, "Word is that they're going for Washington."

There was a sputtering cough from Miriam and her Aunt as they choked on their drinks. Margaret took a deep breath as the two older women slammed their cups down as they fought to clear the liquid from their throats. Aunt Cordelia looked absolutely appalled while Miriam clutched the locket that hung around her neck tightly.

"They…. oh, my…...that's suicide!"

"I know."

"They're going to sacrifice the majority of their forces just to gain some alliance with an empire that probably won't help them!"

"I know."

"That'll drag this war on for ages more!"

Margaret just kept her mouth shut as she knew that, over the proclamations of horror, she wouldn't be able to get a word in edge wise. When the exclamations died down to whispers among her family, Margaret took the reins of the situation again.

"Now this is just a rumor. But since rumors are often based in truth, we need to take as much caution as we can."

"Which means that we need to be prepared." Henry concluded. Margaret nodded in agreement. "What do you propose we do?"

"It's risky, but I think one of us shall infiltrate the Confederacy and the other the Federal army, and both of us should try to stall the battle until a peace can be reached."

Her Aunt Cordelia shook her head disapprovingly. "That's a dangerous risk, Margaret. Not only does this carry the risk of the Mentor finding out about your meddling, but if both armies figure it out that you're lying, you could be executed as spies."

"We know the risks, Auntie." Henry assured her.

"Our involvement with the Fifth-Fourth Massachusetts has so far remained under wraps. None of the undercovers have figured it out except for those that we have paid off to not inform the Mentor."

"You're both playing with fire." Miriam scolded. She quickly placed her hand over her mouth before asking, "Will one of you…. whoever goes to the South pass a message to my husband? I need to know that he's alright."

"Don't worry, Miriam." Henry said softly. He placed a hand on top of the older woman's in a comforting gesture. "We'll get the message to him. And we won't do anything rash. Right, Margaret?"

Margaret blinked. "What is that look supposed to be for?"

"You know what it means."

Margaret rolled her eyes, which elicited a gentle smack from her Aunt. There was silence that permeated the room the following moment, as they all took in the massive weight that was placed on the two siblings' shoulders. The silence was only cut by the quiet, polite sips of everyone's tea as they all processed the information.

"What's the cover story going to be?" Henry asked.

Margaret took a deep breath, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. Her Aunt was glaring at her as she did so, but she didn't care.

"The story will be that the person infiltrating both armies is that they will be journalists, writing for an independent newspaper on the state of the war. You're free to make up a name of the newspaper if you wish. We will continue to keep an eye on the larger picture, especially with the Fifty-Fourth. We will code our letters, which we will need to discuss as soon as possible."

"What will we say to the Mentor?"

Margaret sighed. "I didn't think of that. But I do have a meeting with her in a couple of days. We may have to tell her that our movements are being restricted heavily by our Father's business. Aunt Cordelia, I am sure we would both be grateful if you would write to Father, to let him know of our ruse so that the story can be kept straight. After the meeting, I plan on returning home until the first of the next year. Lionel will be on leave until then and I hope to enjoy Christmas with my family."

"Even with that horrid woman you call a mother-in-law?"

"Yes. Even with Aisling."

"Well, I hope to see my great-nieces and great-nephew sometime before that happens." Aunt Cordelia took a sip of her tea.

"Why don't you come with me? I'm sure you and Miriam could have yourselves packed within the next hour or so, while I conduct business with the Mentor."

"Oh, what a lovely idea!" Miriam exclaimed. "I would like to experience Maine! I've heard some rather interesting and fascinating stories."

"We would need time to buy the children gifts!"

"You're not going to be spoiling them, would you Auntie?"

"Why, I don't know what you mean, my dear." The older woman took another long sip, but the laughter didn't leave her eyes.

Margaret chuckled a little bit, only to sigh when she glanced at the clock. It was well past afternoon and entering into the hours of early evening. Her meeting with the Mentor would happen before the sun had risen from its slumber.

When the day had yet to begin but the darkness and the secrecy of the night had not yet ended.

Margaret excused herself, saying that she needed to prepare to retire for the night. She returned to her room, reveling in the silence before beginning the nightly regime. Once her face and neck were washed, she had braided her hair loosely over her shoulder, and she had removed her musty travel clothes and put on her thick nightgown, Margaret decided to compose a letter to her children. She had made sure to keep up correspondence with them as often as she could, but with her being on the move so much it made things…..difficult to say the least.

She wrote about how happy she was to be coming home for the holidays, staying well into the New Year, and leaving after Easter. She told them that their Great Aunt Cordelia and Aunt Miriam, and even quite possibly their Uncle Henry, would be visiting them for Christmas. Margaret ended the letter by telling them that she loved them so much and, like all the letters sent after she had to leave her home, told them that she was going try to spend more time with them as soon as she could get away from all the business.

After signing it, and drying her eyes, Margaret stepped away from the desk and sat down on the bed.

Even after all these years, all the sacrifices that she had made for the good of the Brotherhood, why was she just now questioning her role in all of this? In the war, being with the Assassins. It didn't make sense if she was being honest with herself.

Surely, even the greats, Ezio Auditore, and even Altair himself doubted their roles in this momentous fight.

But surely even they didn't have momentous doubts like the ones Margaret was feeling at that time.

Should she disavow the Assassins, her life work and her lineage, in order for some peace of mind?

Margaret shook her head, dispelling the thoughts that threatened to cloud her mind and compromise her position. She knelt down, leaning on the edge of her bed and began her prayers.

"Dear Lord, I thank you for bringing me through another day. I thank yYu for sustaining me and for Your continual protection of not only me, but my husband and children, my Father, Aunt Cordelia and Miriam, and my brother Henry. I ask that You continue Your guidance and protection from the Templars and aid the Assassins in defeating this enemy of humanity. And I ask that You continue to bless our blade with accuracy. Amen."

Once she was finished, Margaret blew out the candles one by one and turned the lamp all the way off. Margaret sighed as she curled up underneath the warn covers and drifted off to sleep.