From the Author:

Hello there, faithful readers! I've been trying to finish this before the newest game comes out, but it looks like I will most likely lose that deadline. Given the trajectory, I should have a couple of chapters to go until the end of the my story. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I've had!

A friend of mine thought it was interesting that I referenced the French Revolution far before Ubisoft even announced Unity. Great minds? Or a Templar conspiracy? You decide. Disclaimer: Ubi owns all, except my original characters, which are mine.

Cesare was up earlier than usual. His dreams were plaguing him again. The Auditore whelp hounded him, even in his sleep. The fruit brought to his chamber seemed off, bitter. An officious knock came. His father's valet, Antonio, stood in the entry.

"Take this away. Throw it to the swine in the street," he spat over his shoulder. The just risen sun streamed in through the window. He heard the bowl shift and be taken up. "Never say I do not care about them."

"I would never dream of it, Signor Borgia," Antonio said bowing. "Before I take my leave, I have a message from your father."

Cesare resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Civility had it uses, especially this early. "Yes, what?"

"The Lady Aurelia survived her ordeal yesterday and returned in the night. She wishes to speak to his Holiness today. Your father asks that you see she is taken care of while she waits."

Cesare was suddenly very awake. His men had failed to put her down. They would not live to repeat their mistake. "I have a feeling she will be waiting a long time, no?"

Antonio bowed again, shaking his head. "When I spoke with your father, he seemed very busy. Who knows how long his affairs will keep him?"

"Heaven only, I'd imagine. Tell him I will see to her." Cesare dismissed him with a wave and turned back toward the blinding sun. The door shut loudly behind him. He smiled to himself. Diplomacy not work the way you thought, Father? I will show you the proper way to end a fight.

The best thing to do would be to begin now. She would be exhausted from her trek back to her own cage. If he was lucky, she'd still be asleep and unable to put forth any resistance. Cesare threw on his cap and dagger and left his apartments.

The servants were barely seen in his wing. It took only a handful of sightings and beatings and fewer bodies for them to learn that their invisibility kept them alive. The sun was just peering through the windows here. The whore's rooms were on the other side of the palazzo, meaning she wouldn't know it was day for another hour or so. Lucrezia wouldn't be up until midday, if she left her chambers at all. Not that her movements mattered at all to Cesare. She seemed to think so. She was only good for a couple of things and her third husband now had command of them.

Cesare moved through the corridors quickly. He could hear muffled footsteps retreating at his approach here and there and a couple of doors creaking slowly as he passed, making sure the way clear before more steps were taken away. His hands itched with sweat under his gloves, ready to wrap his fingers around her throat and crush the life out of her. Perhaps he would do to her what that Auditore brat had done to Pazzi; string her up by her own entrails over the balcony for all to see. The thought of her dead made his pulse race.

He drew his dagger, and made his way into the guest wing. No guards were posted here, but he heard their movement below, somewhere. They should be changing shifts around this time, he thought. Perhaps they were not informed of her return. That would be too perfect.

Cesare didn't hear anything from here. The main sitting room here was deserted, as was the terrace. Breakfast had not been laid, but there were traces of servants setting a place for her. The fire had just been lit, white smoke hissing from the still damp logs. The darker curtains had been drawn back, letting in the first grey shafts of light.

He approached her door, just around the corner. Cesare switched his dagger to his other hand and leaned against the door as he lifted the handle to enter. Locked. She had locked it from the inside. It's as if she doesn't trust us. He took his dagger to the keyhole on his side of the door. The point stabbed into the mechanism as he lifted the handle again. It barely caught the edge. Very slowly, he pushed the dagger further in, securing its hold. And then, very suddenly, he twisted the hilt like a key, unlocking it. There was a dull, satisfying click. He slid the dagger out and corrected his grip on the handle, pushing the door open as silently as possible.

The fire in here wasn't dead. She must have arrived after midnight, he thought. Shreds of his sister's dress were draped over the table. If I don't kill the bitch, Lucrezia will for certain. The drapes were still closed. The light had not begun to seep through them yet. She was still abed, as well. Fortune favors the bold. In the dim light, Cesare could tell she was curled up on her side, facing the window. The question now became if he wanted to stab her in the back unseen or if he wanted to watch the life leave her eyes.

Decisions, decisions…

He silently made his way to face her. She was snoring lightly; hair covered her face, arms thrown above her head. The angel looked like doll a child had dropped on the floor in boredom. Cesare traced her face with the dagger's point. He didn't wish to draw blood just yet, only to wake her. He wanted her to see his face before he sliced her blasphemous throat. She didn't stir. Even in her sleep, she insulted him. Cesare swallowed the urge to stab her here and now. It didn't do him any good if she didn't know it he who killed her. He held the dagger at the bridge of her nose and started singing softly to himself. "Cara mia…"

She shifted. Her eyelids moved, but wouldn't open. Her breathing hitched a moment and she coughed, turning onto her back. Cesare brought the dagger away for a moment, poised to strike. The sunlight flashed against the steel. He kept singing quietly.

Wait a moment.

The sunlight.

He slowed his words as he tilted the blade toward the wall, watching the light run up and down. The curtains weren't open. It was dark a moment ago, wasn't it? He turned towards the window and stopped his song.

The silhouette on the other side continued the line.

Like lightning, the figure reached for him through the curtain, blade tearing the fabric. Cesare instinctively yelled out as the Assassin launched himself at him, barreling into the room.

Aurelia sat bolt upright, her own dagger in hand at the noise, eyes staring blankly as whatever dream she was in receded. The Assassin again lunged at Cesare, scrambling away, tangled in his cape and that of his opponent. She leapt out of bed, running toward the door. Cesare grabbed at her ankle, tripping her. She fell with a shout, hitting her chin on the table. Blood shot from her mouth as she bit her tongue. Cesare laughed as he kicked the Assassin in the stomach, forcing a breathy grunt from the man as he doubled over. Cesare wrapped his fist in her nightgown and dragged her to him. Aurelia was still seeing stars from the impact, but kicked awkwardly at him.

"Now, now, girl. You've let two men into your room? What will people say?" He spat at her. "They'll probably want to know who was on whose knees, don't you think?" Her kicking did nothing to help her, as she kept sliding in the nightgown as he pulled her. The Assassin hadn't recovered his breath or his sword yet; he just kept reaching out ineffectually towards her. Cesare let go of her hem and now grabbed at her hair, winding it around his forearm like a rope. Aurelia let out a yelp of pain as he yanked her into him. His other arm wrapped around her waist holding her as he changed to seating himself at the table. Her own dagger lay at his feet. He bent them both over to grab it and quickly returned them to a seated position. He held her in his lap like little girl. He kept one leg over hers to keep her from kicking at him.

The Assassin whistled loud, a signal to others nearby.

"I wouldn't recommend that, Assassin. I'll slice her open before one more of you comes in."

The Assassin stood upright, held up one hand and waved through the open window. A whistle like his returned from somewhere.

"How does this end, Cesare?"

Both Aurelia and her captor perked up to the voice. The Assassin drew back his hood. Cesare laughed loudly. "Aurelia, have you met Signore Ezio Auditore? He's terribly angry with my father and myself."

"You killed his father and his brothers. I know," she groaned. Her head was throbbing and his grip on her head was not helping.

"And my uncle," Ezio added.

"Oh yes. I forgotten all about him," Cesare laughed again. "So many bodies; who can remember all the names?"

"Borgia, I will have your blood and your father's. I will take the angel with me and see the Templars are destroyed."

Cesare brought the dagger up to her throat, with his other hand still pulling her head back. "Or Auditore, I kill her, and you. And then we will stamp out the insects that are the Order. I have the feeling that at least one of us in this room will die before this is over. Her, certainly. I'm more interested in what happens between you and me."

"The only standing between us is the girl you're using as a shield."

Cesare sneered and tightened his grip on his dagger. "You're so right, Auditore. Allow me."

In a heartbeat, Aurelia turned to face Cesare, drawing her own blood across the cutting edge. "Ladies first." She bit his ear, tearing a piece from his head. As he screamed, she grabbed the blade with both hands and kicked off the ground as hard as she could, sending both of them backward onto the ground. Ezio used the distraction to cover the distance and bring all of his weight down onto Cesare's chest, still howling about his ear. Aurelia rolled backward, twisting the dagger out of his grasp as the Assassin knelt down on his mark, blade at his throat.

Cesare ranted incoherently for a moment, spittle flying, eyes wild. "Is this how it ends, Assassin? You think you have won? You have nothing! The Messenger will die and your precious Order will come up empty! My father, the Pope-"

"Will die next, by my hand. I swear it to you, Cesare Borgia." He looked up briefly. "And to you, Messenger." She was breathing heavily, a rose blooming across the sleeve she held at her wound. "The world will be free of your kind, who only wants blind obedience. 'The lightning strikes from the hidden places.' Requiescat in Pace." Cesare's face twisted in rage as he howled for the guards who weren't coming as the Assassin's blade buried itself in his neck and chest over and over. Ezio's own rage came to the fore as he avenged his family. Blood spurted from Borgia's neck.

"Ezio? Ezio. Stop. That's enough."

He looked up from his kill, panting, wiping the blood from his face with his sleeve. Spray had covered her face. It was impossible in the moment to discern which was hers. She was gasping for air, trying to keep composure for the both of them. Her resolve was failing quickly. Ezio pulled himself off of his prey. He dragged the bedspread off of the bed and began cleaning her face.

"Move your hand, Lady. I must see how deep the cut runs." She wouldn't lower her arm. He tried to ease her away, but her neck followed her forearm. She was terrified. With a quick movement, he caught her arm and separated the two. Blood smeared all over her face and night clothes, it took a moment to figure out how fast it was flowing. It beaded in a red line across her throat that spilled in seconds.

"Auditore. Do not trouble yourself. I have fulfilled what I was sent to do. You know what you must do." She ripped the bed sheets and began pressing them to her wound. "Go with God, Auditore. I will still be here when you return. Go. Go!" Aurelia slumped against the wall waving him off with her free hand.

Ezio climbed to his feet, unsure of what to say about the strange events he had seen these past few days. Aurelia stared hazily at him. "Yes, I know." He frowned and shook his head.

She slid from the wall onto the floor as the door shut behind him.