Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.
A/N: This is late. I blame college. You should, too.
I also blame Teen Wolf.
You'd think I'd grown out of liking that kind of immature thing, but really, really… apparently not. You should check it out, you might like it. If anything, we can all swoon together over the hot guys. Because there are hot guys. Hot, hot guys.
Might pop out a one-shot from that fandom. Who knows?
Enjoy!
When in Rome
By: Ginny
"So we keep going north?" Margherita asked the other two women.
"Yes," Claudia answered, stoking the fire that Maria had lit.
The blonde was actually surprised about how self-sufficient these two women were. Granted, they had assassin blood in them – well, Claudia did, but Margherita supposed that only an extremely strong woman could have married Giovanni Auditore. And they both had traveled with Ezio all those years ago from Firenze to Monteriggioni. So now, it was just like following their old footprints backwards.
They had been traveling for a full day and now the sun was setting. No one had spoken much.
"It's hard to imagine that last night we were preparing for bed, hopeful of the future," Claudia commented, plopping down next to her mother.
Margherita nodded and took a seat on the other side of the fire, examining her bleeding feet.
It hadn't been until they had begun their journey that Margherita had realized that her feet were bare… as were her shoulders. In fact, since she had been basically in bed right before the invasion, she hadn't had a chance to get dressed. She had no shoes. She was wearing her nightgown. She stood out like a swore thumb when they passed towns and she was totally exposed to the elements when they were on the open road. To add to that, her gown had gotten stained by the blood of the man she had killed. Margherita tried not to think about it.
Eventually Claudia had been merciful and given Margherita her outer robe to wear over her nightgown. Deftly ripping the parts of her nightgown that were covered by the outer robe, Margherita fashioned herself some bandages and wrapped them around her aching feet. The terrain had been tough.
The three sat in silence and watched the fire for a while before Claudia stood up, "I'm going to go look for more firewood. This isn't going to last."
"I'll go with you," Margherita offered.
The girl had been antsy the entire trip, constantly looking to the south. For a while, Margherita had been under the impression that she was simply worried about Ezio. But then she had caught a glance at the young Auditore's face – she wore a very determined expression. Her jaw was clenched, her eyes were narrow.
Margherita was certain Claudia wanted to go to Roma with Ezio.
So, like hell she was going to leave the girl alone.
Claudia made no protest and the two set off into the woods. Margherita winced slightly has her feet touched the ground.
It wasn't until they were far out of Maria's earshot that Claudia finally turned to Margherita. "I'm glad you decided to come with me," she said. "Had I asked you to come, mother would have been suspicious."
"You want to go after Ezio," she guessed.
The Auditore female didn't even bat an eye. "There is nothing for us in Firenze. Going back there is pointless."
"But it's safe," argued Margherita.
"I don't care if it's safe!" she shot back. "It doesn't matter where we go, someone will still be after us! Assassin's will always be in danger."
"You aren't an Assassin – we aren't Assassins."
"You heard my mother's departing words to Ezio: "Don't forget for whom we Assassins fight." I am an Auditore. I have the same blood flowing through my veins that Ezio does – surely I can do the same. I'm sick and tired of being forced to sit on the sidelines! When my father and brothers were taken I could have fought back. I didn't. My mother did and she was overpowered. And then you showed up. And you fought back."
Margherita interrupted, her voice raising a pitch, "And do you not remember what happened to me? Because I haven't."
"But you survived! And at least you fought back!" Claudia gave an angry groan and pulled at her hair. Margherita stepped up and grasped her wrist to keep her from hurting herself. The girl was quite volatile if left to her own devices. At Margherita's actions, Claudia noted her own self-harming and took a deep breath before trying a new strategy. "I can count on one hand how many times Ezio has visited us these past twenty years. Surely you remember how little he was with you and at least you two were in the same city! At the very, very least I want to be in Roma with him. I want to see the Assassin's victory over these damn Borgia and I want to help if I can. Surely you can at least understand?"
With a deep sigh, Margherita nodded. "I know how you feel Claudia, I do. But I trust Ezio and his decisions. If he thinks that Firenze is the safest place for us, I will go there."
"But doesn't it bother you? God, you probably won't marry him for a few years, until he finally wakes up one morning and remembers you're alive."
Yeah, that hit her right where it hurt. Wincing, Margherita said, "Please don't remind me."
"See? It does get to you!" Claudia shook her head. "He thinks he can just drag us womenfolk wherever he wants to take us and then he thinks that he can just leave us there and that we won't put up a fight. And for twenty years we've let him! If you want to, go on to Firenze. Take mother, keep her safe. But I'm turning back and going to Roma."
"If Margherita wants to go to Firenze, then she will go alone," a voice spoke up. The two girls jumped, startled out of their bones. God, when Maria wanted to be sneaky, she could be very quiet. "I have been separated from my son for far too long. We will set out for Roma tomorrow."
After a quick glance at each other, the two younger women nodded. And with that, they set off back to the campsite. Gingerly, Margherita tried to step strategically and avoid any rough patches that might agitate her feet further. Maria said, "And we will make a stop for supplies – including some proper footwear for you, Margherita."
"Mother," Claudia interjected. "We don't have any money."
"Aren't there accounts in Firenze still?" Margherita recalled Ezio mentioning them at one point.
Maria shook her head, "I am certain the Borgia have ceased them. But that does not matter." The woman placed a hand into the bodice of her dress and removed a pouch. As it was shaken gently in Maria's soft hand, the rattling of coins could be heard.
The blonde nodded her appreciation just as the campfire came into view.
When Margherita had been in the 21st century, attending college, she had done so at American University in Rome. Then after having graduated, she refused to return to the United States, preferring to work at the Vatican Museum in Rome. That had been her life for almost ten years, those were the roads she had walked down, those were the churches she passed, those were the statues she glanced at – having learned the history behind them while in school.
So, when Claudia turned to ask Margherita if she had ever been to Roma, Margherita nodded her head.
Then she remembered that Claudia didn't know the truth… Ezio had told Leonardo because the genius had been the first to recognize her absence. But other than that, no one else had been informed about Margherita's realm-hopping. Margherita really hoped that Claudia wouldn't ask her to guide them since apparently she had been there before.
"So how do we find him?" Claudia asked.
"Ha!" Margherita scoffed. "If there was one thing I learned long ago, it was that you don't find Ezio – he finds you."
The younger girl shot her a look and the blonde shrugged. "Okay, so, how do we make sure he quickly finds us?"
The three stood at the gates, thinking for a moment. Finally, it was Maria who spoke up, "We look for an inn. The sun will set soon and we are still weary from travelling. We will stop for the night and in the morning we can go to the market and ask around about rumors of the assassin in Roma – surely they will think we are simply curious foreigners looking for gossip."
Margherita nodded, "That works."
Lifting the hem of her new skirt, she followed as the Auditore matriarch led their little ragtag group to the nearest inn.
The next morning was painful. After a few weeks travelling on foot and sleeping on makeshift sleeping bags, an actual bed made all three women want nothing more than to laze about all day. Unfortunately, they had work to do and a pesky assassin to find and those spare funds Maria had kept hidden in her bodice were almost gone.
"I was a little apprehensive of coming to Roma," Margherita explained. "I had heard that the dreaded White Devil – the terrible Assassin from Firenze had come to Roma as well."
"Ah," the plump peasant admitted. "He has indeed come. And a good thing, too. I've heard that he is here to rid Roma of the Borgia. They have gotten their claws into every inch of the city and we were better off without them."
Margherita nodded and bid her goodbye.
"Margherita! Margherita!"
The blonde followed the voice which led her directly to Claudia… and Machiavelli. Oh thank God! The man had always seemed like a super control-freak and so of course, of course he would know where exactly Ezio had skipped off to.
As she approached the duo, she voiced her appreciation, "Oh thank God! I swear, if I had to talk to one more vendor who wants to bitch about taxes or one more peasant woman who wants to share her fantasies about screwing the God-like Assassin, I would have speared someone."
Machiavelli blinked at her for a moment and Margherita blushed.
This man had always made her feel like she was five years old.
"Oh, and there is mother – Mother! Mother! Over here!" Claudia waved for her with true noblewoman grace. Margherita would have simply swiped an arm up in the air, back and forth to get the woman's attention. Maria joined them silently.
"Ezio is probably at the local brothel," Machiavelli explained.
Margherita's eyebrows shot up and she let out a squeak of, "What?"
The man deadpanned a look at her, clearly thinking she was an idiot for cutting him off before he could even end his sentence. "He is trying to enlist the courtesans as spies," he finished explaining.
"Oh…" Now Margherita felt terribly embarrassed.
"And where is this brothel?" Claudia asked, finally getting down to business. Machiavelli gave them the directions and told them he would be happy to escort them there, but unfortunately had business elsewhere that he was late for. Margherita doubted that he had ever been late to anything in his life but when he left she gave him an especially deep nod to make up for her earlier foolishness.
The brothel had the potential to be beautiful. Having spent a decent amount of time at Teodora's brothel, Margherita knew what was considered to be a good, high class brothel and what was basically considered a whorehouse. There was a difference, she had learned. One day she had referred to La Rosa Della Virtu as a whorehouse and one of the courtesans had informed her that she was an ignorant little prude (Margherita had snorted at that noun) and that courtesans may be paid for their favors but there was a distinct difference between a prostitute and a courtesan. So, Margherita had shut the fuck up and never referred to the brothel as a whorehouse again.
Claudia took charge, as always, and knocked on the front door.
It was almost immediately yanked open by a woman – a courtesan – who glanced at the three other women in front of her and immediately frowned at them. Her hair was fake (but not unattractive, per se) blonde, tied up in two braid-cones on the top of her head. For a courtesan, she was pretty.
"You are not Madonna Solari," she pouted.
"Obviously," Margherita snarked from over Claudia's shoulder.
The courtesan's scowl only deepened and she was just about to open her mouth again to tell these intruders off when someone else butted in and pushed the door open completely to reveal another courtesan. "Who are you and what are you doing here? We are very busy," the new courtesan explained.
This courtesan had deep auburn hair, also braided up in the traditional style, but she had little charms laced around the braiding. Her lips were a deep ruby red, which increased the paleness of her skin.
"My name is Claudia Auditore," the aforementioned woman said. "This is my mother, Maria Auditore and this is my…" she glanced at Margherita, uncertain of how to introduce her. Margherita understood the confusion. By this point in time, she should have been part of the family and simply introduced as her sister-in-law. But that hadn't happened. Instead, Monteriggioni had been attacked, their life had been ripped apart and now Margherita was Ezio's betrothed again.
"I'm Margherita Recci, a friend of the family," she cut in. The words cut at the inside of her mouth.
"And what do you want?" the courtesan asked suspiciously.
"We were told that Ezio Auditore was here," Claudia explained.
The courtesan turned back to someone who was just inside the brothel and she asked, "Do we have any clients call Ezio Auditore?"
Margherita cut in, "No, no. He's not a client. He… well, he's tall and has a beard. He was probably wearing a hood."
Realization flickered in the courtesan's eyes, "Oh! The handsome Assassin!" She stepped aside and ushered the three women into the brothel while simultaneously casting an eerie glance outside. "Follow me," she commanded and led the group up the staircase, passed an abundance of powerful men flirting (or, at least, trying to flirt) with the pretty courtesans, and out onto a balcony. "We can talk here," she explained.
"Who is Madonna Solari?" Margherita asked the moment they stopped.
"She is the owner of this brothel, the Rosa in Fiore," the courtesan's expression darkened. "She has been kidnapped. Your Assassin is currently trying to rescue her."
The original, blonde courtesan spoke up, "I don't know what we'll do without her!"
"Calm down," the redhead one said shortly. "It will be fine. They asked for a ransom. They won't kill her if they asked for a ransom."
"And you shouldn't underestimate Ezio," Margherita just had to interject.
"Mother? Sister? Margherita?"
Speak of the Devil.
And suddenly it didn't matter that he had ridden away into the sunset without her – without even a glance back, actually. Suddenly it didn't matter that he had wanted her safe and secure and alone in Firenze while he played hero over here in brothels with the pretty courtesans. Suddenly it didn't matter that she didn't feel wanted or needed by the one person she wanted and needed more than anyone else on this earth. All that mattered was the fact that he was within ten feet of her and he was safe.
They all turned to the familiar voice and Margherita felt her legs go weak. Ezio immediately made eye contact with her and she could see the concern in his eyes.
"Ezio," Maria took a step towards her son and Margherita was right behind her. "Machiavelli said that you might be here."
The assassin approached them cautiously asking, "What are you doing in Roma? Has Firenze been attacked?" Ah, that explained the concern in his eyes. He thought that the Borgia's destructiveness had reached all the way to Firenze, too.
"No," Claudia took control of the conversation. "Or rather, I don't know." She looked up at him with defiance in her eyes. The Auditore blood was boiling beneath the surface and she just dared him to contradict her. "We did not go to Firenze."
Any concern that had been in his eyes vanished and was quickly replaced by anger. "Why?" he inquired.
Claudia and Margherita shared a glance before Claudia lost her nerve and beseeched, "Ezio, we want to help!"
Ezio had noticed the shared glance between the two younger women and in response shot Margherita a dirty look. Apparently he was under the impression that this had all been orchestrated by the blonde. "I was trying to help you by sending you to Firenze," he argued, turning to look back at Claudia for a moment before returning his gaze back to the blonde's.
Before Margherita could inform him that going to Firenze would have helped no one, the blonde courtesan interrupted. "Where is Madonna Solari?" she asked.
He barely wasted a glance at the woman, "She's dead."
Margherita flinched at the harshness of his words – way to not even try to soften the blow, Ezio.
The courtesans apparently weren't terribly crushed regarding her death so much as the idea that they might now be out of work. One swore a loud oath while the other asked, "What now? Will we have to close?"
"You can not close," Ezio reached an arm out as though to physically keep her from leaving him. "I need your help."
Margherita almost snorted. Yeah, he needed the courtesan's help but not his own family's help. She had helped him plenty of times… when he had been poisoned, she had held him till Rosa could stitch him up. And… yeah, okay, that was about it. But it wasn't like she couldn't be helpful. She was smart. She was resourceful.
"Mister," the redhead explained. "Without someone who can run things, we are finished."
There was half a beat and then, "I'll do it."
All eyes turned to Claudia. She stood with her nose up in the air and her back straight. Margherita knew from experience that this girl had a spine of steel and a will of fire. And she was looking, not at the courtesans, but directly at Ezio.
The assassin was quick to argue. "You do not belong here, Claudia."
The blonde glanced at the courtesans to see how exactly they were taking that comment… which could have doubled as an insult. They seemed very nonchalant.
Claudia just couldn't seem to stop. "I know how to run a business. I ran Uncle Mario's for years."
Ezio leaned closer. "This is different."
"What alternative do you have, Ezio?" Maria interrupted. Ezio spared at least his mother a glance, though he pointedly ignored Margherita nodding right next to her.
It seemed the assassin realized that he was losing this battle. Suddenly a startling thought hit Margherita, hard. Were the Borgia so strong that Ezio was willing to give up this battle because he was that desperate for the resources the courtesans had? Margherita had hoped this conflict would end soon – Ezio would have simply slipped into the castello and slipped the hidden blade into their necks. Apparently not.
He pointed his forefinger and his middle finger at his sister. "You do this Claudia and you are on your own."
"I've been on my own for twenty years," she shot back.
"And she won't be alone," Margherita put in.
Ezio reeled around to frown at her. "What?" he asked.
"She won't be alone. I'll stay with her," she explained.
"No you won't," he argued.
"You told me to protect your sister and mother. Your mother is staying here with your sister and so I will, too."
His jaw tightened and his eyes flashed with anger. She had upset him. Well, he had upset her. And suddenly it mattered that he had left her behind without a single glance back. She wasn't his wife yet, she didn't owe him any obedience.
"Fine," he spat. And then he spun around to observe the brothel. "I intend to repair the brothel. This place is a real mess." He turned back around and pointed at Claudia condescendingly. "And I want your courtesans to find Caterina Sforza."
Claudia crossed her arms and ignored the finger jutting at her. "You can count on us."
"What happened to Caterina?" Margherita asked.
It took Ezio a moment to respond. He continued looking at Claudia as though he was trying to decide whether or not he was even going to acknowledge Margherita's existence. What an asshole. He did however drag his eyes away from Claudia and frowned at his betrothed. "She was captured by Cesare Borgia during the siege," he explained shortly.
So Caterina had become a damsel-in-distress.
And of course, Ezio had a thing for women in distress.
And now he was pissed at Margherita.
Great.
The assassin gave each of them a glance, approached the edge of the balcony and hopped over. Margherita stumbled to the edge so that she could watch him leave but by the time she got there, he had already disappeared. She stuffed the desire to cry deep down inside herself and let out a shallow sigh.
"So," Claudia spoke up. "How about we start with your names?"
"Tessa," the redhead responded.
"Piera," the blonde said.
"Can we get a tour?" Margherita asked, finally leaving the balcony's edge.
Tessa nodded and escorted them back in. "The top floors are designated for clients, they are rented hourly. Each girl has her own room that doubles as their bedroom and their entertainment room. There isn't much to see," she explained and they detoured to the staircase. "The first floor is much more interesting. In the east wing of the bottom floor there is this room," she opened the ornate door.
A large room filled with couches set was exposed to the group. In the very front of the room, couches were set up to face a raised platform that was situated against the far wall in a circular fashion to form a make-shift stage. Towards the back, there were some little tables and couches and chairs all set up in multiple little circles to make conversing easier.
"This is the main entertainment room," Tessa said. "When there is a large group of men, or a party that makes its way here, this is where we put them. Sometimes girls will recite poetry or sing a song or play an instrument up on that stage. Sometimes girls and their clients can flirt and talk in the back and then slip out and up to their room, discreetly."
They left the room and moved on to the west wing. "These are the private rooms for the Madonna," Tessa said. "There are some extra rooms that we used to use for the very, very popular courtesans but Madonna Solari didn't want to pay for the repairs as the years went on. They are pretty shitty now, but if your Assassin friend is going to fix this place up he can definitely get those rooms livable and then you would all have a place to stay. The kitchen and dining room are just back there."
Claudia nodded. "Alright. I can work with this."
The room was richly decorated with beautiful furniture. Margherita broke away from the group and continued down the hall to the extra rooms.
"Yeah… I can't work with this," she said. Claudia joined her and glanced inside.
There was only one window and apparently it had been left open. There was a layer of dirt on the floor and some bird droppings. Margherita gingerly crossed the room and closed the window. It immediately swung back open. The two girls exchanged looks before Tessa spoke up from the doorway, "Oh, this looks a lot better than I expected!"
"Are the other extra rooms this bad?" Margherita asked, worried.
"Worse," Tessa shot back.
"Let me look over your financial logs," Claudia was definitely all business now. Margherita sighed and simply followed her friend.
There was an inn right across the street from the brothel. There was a reason for that – foreigners how had been so lonely on the road found comfort in the courtesans that were literally right next door. In this case however, it was the lady from the brothel who had gone to the inn.
Claudia had reviewed the financial logs, complained about how badly Madonna Solari had kept everything recorded, and then made some decisions. All the upstairs rooms were taken by various courtesans. The only livable room in the west wing was Madonna Solari's bedchamber and her bed was only big enough for two people. Claudia offered Margherita the floor. When the blonde had simply stared at her with a look of, "Are you fucking serious?" Claudia finally sighed and handed her a bag of florins.
"Go to the inn across the street," she suggested. "When the rooms are finished you can move back."
"Can you afford to pay for the inn room?" Margherita asked.
"Well, Madonna Solari was an idiot, but there is money to spare. I plan to change the way this place is run. Eventually we'll be making a lot more money."
Margherita smiled at the girl. She was definitely an Auditore.
And thus, Margherita was banished to the inn while Maria and Claudia snuggled up together in their fancy room in the brothel.
With a heavy sigh, Margherita stripped down to her white under robe. She had discarded her bloodstained one and as promised, they had stopped and replaced her under robe and bought her a simple linen outer robe and some leather boots. If only Caterina Sforza could see her now – there were definitely servants that had been at the Villa who dressed better. And Margherita had had a chance to wash any of her clothing. At least she had managed to bathe in the rivers on their way to Roma. Perhaps when the brothel was making more money they could afford new clothes. Or they could ask Ezio to buy them… assuming he was still talking to them. Or, specifically, Margherita.
She turned to close the shutters when a shadow passed by the window, blocking the sun for a moment. Gasping for her life, she stumbled back, only to let out a breath of relief as the shadow's outline became clear.
"God, Ezio, don't fucking scare me like that!"
Wasn't it just a few months ago that he was assaulting her in the dark in a hotel room? Yeah, this was becoming a nasty habit…
"I need to talk to you so I followed you here," he explained, jumping down from the ledge.
Standing up, Margherita approached him cautiously. "Are you mad at me for taking your sister's side?"
He took a long, deep inhale. "No. A little bit. I don't want to talk about it, there are more pressing matters."
"What?" she was instantly alarmed and crossed the room to him. "Is there something wrong? Is the brothel in trouble?"
"No, no, no," he shook his head and then looked down at her. His expression had changed. The tension that had been there that afternoon had since vanished and was replaced by something else entirely… Margherita didn't know exactly what it was until he placed his hands on her shoulders and gingerly kissed her.
She melted. Simply put, her bones turned to mush and she might have slid straight down to the floor had Ezio not chosen to wrap his arms around her waist at that very moment. He tilted her head back to deepen the kiss and suddenly they were all tongue and hands and it was all so familiar. She hadn't even realized how much she had missed him until he was back in her arms, his taste was back in her mouth and his hands were back on her heart.
It was like a dream. Before coming back from the ten year exile, Margherita would have described sex with Ezio as many wonderful things: pleasurable, relaxing, frantic, the perfect way to end a stressful day. But she never would have called it perfection, mystical, an action in which her soul and his soul became simply their soul.
But… it kind of was.
Margherita didn't even realize she was naked until Ezio's lips left her nipple and a shiver passed down her spine. Margherita didn't even realize Ezio was inside her until he hit her at the perfect angle to make her back arch and her lips release a whimper. Margherita didn't even realize she had climaxed until she was laying on top of Ezio, her ear over his gentle, slow heartbeat.
Dream-like.
"Hm," she mumbled. "I see you did miss me."
"Every second you were gone," he whispered, brushing her hair away from her face.
Every second you were gone. Every second you were gone. Every second you were gone.
The words bounced around her head for a moment. When had she left? She hadn't gone anywhere. She had stayed and watched him leave. She had been the one standing on the road watching him ride away… she had been the one watching the Apple blink out of existence and listening to her heart break inside her chest because she knew he wasn't coming back.
Pushing herself off of him, she ripped herself out of his grasp.
A shocked expression crossed his face as he watched her stand. In her full naked glory, glowing in the moonlight, Margherita glared down at him. "I didn't go anywhere," she bit out.
Bending over, she found her bloomers and slipped those on. Ignoring her breast band, she simply threw on her under robe and then stooped to pick up Ezio's robes. The assassin had sat up to watch her fumbling and so she chucked his clothes at him. Luckily he caught them before they hit him in the face.
"Are you saying I did?" he asked.
"You always do," she shot back, pointing out the window. "And you can leave now, too."
Ezio stood up, ignoring his own nakedness, and followed her to the window. He grabbed her by the shoulders and when she tried to squirm her way out of his grasp he pushed her against the wall, not harshly, but certainly none too gently either.
"You don't honestly want me to leave," he challenged.
Margherita set her jaw. "I've never wanted you to leave. But you always do."
He leaned down closer to her so that he could stare into her eyes. "I'm sorry I left you back there, but Mario had just died, Margherita. The Apple had just been stolen. I needed to get to Roma as fast as possible."
Closing her eyes for a second, she breathed deeply. She could understand what he was saying. But that wasn't what she meant and that frustrated her. She vocalized these frustrations. "I'm not just talking about that."
"When else, then?"
Her eyes shot open. "You left me for ten years."
"And you forgave me!"
"No! I did no such thing!" She pushed him away from her and this time he went willingly. "You always leave! Maybe it was different when there weren't any promises, but you said you were settling down, you said that part of your life was over and you wanted to marry me and then you went ahead and broke those promises and left me without a single glance back."
"And you thought that to punish me you would drag my sister and mother to Roma – to danger?" he asked, crossing his arms.
Margherita huffed, "Coming here was Claudia's idea. I tried to talk her out of it but your mother wanted to come too. I was outnumbered. If I had had it my way, I would have been a good little wife and followed your orders perfectly and I would be waiting for you oh so patiently in Firenze."
They stood in silence. Ezio turned to look out the window. Margherita sat herself down on the bed. The minutes ticked by as each tried to review what the other had said.
Finally Ezio spoke up softly, still facing the window. "I won't leave again."
It took a few beats, but Margherita quietly responded, "If you leave again I'll follow you."
"I would expect nothing less."
"Good."
"Fine."
Ezio glanced back at her. "There is a hideout southeast of here. It's where I sleep. I would like you to join me there."
She nodded her understanding. "The rooms for guests at the brothel are in need of repair. I would prefer not to waste money by staying here until those repairs can be made. When they are finished however, I will be staying there."
The assassin paused slightly but eventually returned her nod. "Would you like me to stay? Or would you prefer me to leave?"
Glancing around the room, everywhere except him, Margherita finally admitted, "I would like you to stay."
And she welcomed him back into her bed.