The Tiber river flowed almost peacefully under the bridge, the morning sun glittering in the warm blue skies. Roma was drenched in a comfortable shade of red, lazily waking up as dawn arrived. The summer heat hasn't had the chance to warm the streets yet, the light wind playfully tugged at our clothes like an impatient child.

I shivered, bringing my cloak closely around myself.

Mornings were really not my time- too cold, too early, too empty and yet not deserted enough. Ezio didn't seem to be bothered by the cold, and Niccolo tried to appear the same. But I noticed him rubbing his hands together behind his back and couldn't help a small snicker. I replied to his irritated glare with a teeth-baring smirk, and he looked away, rolling his eyes a bit before thoughtfully taking in the lapping waves of the river.

I hid the next chuckle more carefully.

"Where's the opening you mentioned?" Ezio asked quietly, and I stepped up beside him so he'd see my gesture.

"They're replacing the fencing on the eastern courtyard. You'd have to get to it over the water and stay out of sight, but once you're in, there is almost a solid path up onto the walls. We can't risk a distraction here, but if you manage to get there without drawing attention, you're golden."

"Yes, of course. All that will remain is passing the internal courtyard, climbing up the walls, finding the Pope's family and killing them without anyone noticing," Ezio snorted.

"You forgot the legion of guards on the inside," I cheerfully supplied, "Though with the map Adel got from the guard captain, it's bound to be a little less fun. Though you know what would make it better?"

"You are not coming," he cut me off, "Not this time, there is simply no other way inside, even for you. And it would only slow us down."

"Yeah, yeah," I let out a heavy breath, grudgingly admitting that he was right. The Castello was a fortified castle, as opposed to the living quarters and monasteries that attached to the Basilica. And this time, unlike before the incident in the Vatican, I didn't have the gnawing feeling of danger and worry in my gut, so it was an easier sell. "I had to try, right?"

"Yes, you wouldn't be you if you didn't attempt to dive head first into every suicidal mission that comes along," he smiled. "Keep on a lookout, though, won't you?"

"No, I think I'll spend this time in some coffee shop eating cake," I rolled my eyes, ducking under his arm and pressing myself into his side. At first it was meant to be a simple hug in good luck and the routine please-don't-die ritual. But then I realized he was very warm, and decided to stay in the position for a minute longer. "Don't you worry your pretty head over this. If you're going in alone without yours truly, you may as well think about yourself."

"As heartwarming as this exchange is," Niccolo suddenly cut in, "I'm afraid you'll have to cut it short."

"I'll give you a hug too, if you'd like-"

"They are moving."

I looked around the near empty street and saw what he meant by that.

Lucrezia Borgia was back from her morning stroll. Though I wasn't sure how a ride in a lavishly decorated carriage this early in the morning could be considered a stroll, nor why she needed to make such an impression. A display like that was usually best suited for when there were a lot of people to gather so they could watch and cheer and throw rice, or whatever the hell it was they were supposed to do. And right now, who was supposed to bear witness? The farmers in the fields that got up before dawn, or the sleepy nobles that wouldn't get up for a few more hours?

Yet, despite the early hours of dawn, it was suddenly crowded. The guards systematically formed a semi-circle around the carriage as it stopped, their halberds on the ready.

The lady herself wasted no time in getting out, allowing only a few moments for the people to gather around. She looked strikingly different today than she did during the tournament. She wore an angry red velvet dress that exposed her cleavage to the point that was technically against the current regulations (I made it a point to keep up with the constantly changing "rules," as getting stopped in the middle of the street because my sleeves were too tight was becoming very annoying and time-consuming…and far too tempting for me to just go ahead and randomly kill guards who questioned me). Her hair was laid in carefully brushed, silky silver locks gathered by a very beautiful ruby and pearl headdress.

But the main difference was her expression, which was now triumphant and snobbish, so very unlike the stony, apathetic mask of nobility that she wore in the presence of her father.

I still didn't like her.

My rising aversion to her only grew when one of the guards yanked another person from the carriage, dragging the woman by the hair to dump her at Lucrezia's feet.

It was hard to recognize Caterina Sforza, as her hair lost a bit of its flaming red color under the grime, and her dress was plain brown, roughly cropped and ripped. But when the woman threw her head up to stare at Lucrezia with mocking defiance, somehow managing to look from above even on her knees, it made it abundantly clear who was the bigger person out of the two. I got the feeling that the only reason Lucrezia didn't flinch and yield under the stare was her own arrogance and sense of power…and the fact that Caterina was securely tied up.

Without thinking or having to turn towards him, I put a hand on Ezio's arm, feeling him aggressively lean forward to take in the sight.

"They are going to torture her," he grit.

"Settle down, Ezio, you're going in there to get her out," I reminded him quietly, "It won't do to lose your head now."

He didn't relax.

"He is going in there to kill the Borgia," Niccolo coldly interrupted, and I set my jaw, shooting him a glare.

"Priorities, Niccolo. Saving lives is more important than taking them."

"If you do not take these, more people will die. Caterina, in perspective, is not-"

I put my free hand around his mouth as fast as possible, stopping the next words before they could do any more damage.

"Shut up," I mouthed angrily, my gaze narrowed in sharp warning. I looked over to Ezio to see that his eyes were still trained on the carriage, thankful that he did not catch what I managed to intercept.

There was a brief moment of silence and thought between us, and the Ezio suddenly reasoned, "Caterina is a valuable ally. If we help her now when she's weak, she can return the favor one day."

Niccolo took my wrist, yanking my hand away. His grip caused a splash of pain that had me instinctively trying to get away. Though at the very least Ezio's words seemed to hit the nail on the head. "Perhaps- But kill the Borgia first."

Ezio nodded in agreement. Without turning again or even pausing for goodbye or good luck, he melted into the crowds.

"Why did you do that?" Niccolo snapped.

"Was it not obvious? To get you to shut up," I growled, rubbing my wrist. "Not all of us think of humans as expendable tools, Niccolo. Especially not Ezio."

"And you?"

"I'm-" I paused, and then furrowed my eyebrows, "Of course I'm not okay with it!"

"Could have fooled me."

Ouch. "Don't talk about what you don't understand," I hissed. "You think you're the first person I've encountered that thinks this way? The only real difference between you and La- him, is that you're on the good side, which is still in question. Besides, Caterina isn't some sort of sacrificial chess piece to be used-"

"Exactly, she's a player herself," he nodded, "And she knew perfectly well what was going to happen if Cesare captured her."

I opened my mouth, and suddenly realized I had nothing more to say. I slowly shut it again, and turned away, crossing my arms.

"That doesn't mean she should be abandoned as soon as her usefulness wears out," I replied somewhat lamely, "That would make us no better than the Borgia."

"This is a pointless argument," he concluded, "About a pointless subject."

"You're right," I suddenly smiled with fondness as I looked up to the Castello, "Because whatever you might have to say, Ezio would still do what he believes is right."

"Then why are we still discussing this?" he dismissively waved. "Tell me something else, if you know him so much better than I; will he get the job done properly this time?"

"You sound uncertain," I snorted. "Even though he knows that he cannot make this personal between him and Cesare, that bastard is still the reason for all the deaths at Monteriggioni. And this time, it's too fresh in his mind to let go. Hell, I'm damn near ready to storm the place myself and kill every guard that crosses my path just so I could pull that bastardo's spine out through his throat and shove it back up his ass. So don't you worry your pretty little head about us; Cesare dug his own grave when he came to Monteriggioni. If I had my way, as soon as he set foot across the Tuscan border."

"I would have thought that Rodrigo dug his grave as well when he killed Ezio's family, and yet..."

"Look, I actually agree with you!" I sat down onto the bench with a huff of exasperation. "Hell, if I got the chance, I would have done it with the only hesitation serving as to draw out and enjoy the moment. And I'm sure you would too, along with half the freaking country."

"Then why didn't you?" he asked forcefully, "Why did you not stick a blade through the man's throat as soon as Ezio turned away? Why did you let your husband make you walk away from it?

"Don't talk as though you know what happened, or as if I let him do anything. As far as I can tell, you barely even stayed in Monteriggioni long enough to find out the details, and now you're asking me? I'm not having this discussion, and sue me for trusting my husband, and for letting him be the better man."

Niccolo suddenly did what I never expected from him: he sat down on the bench beside me with a loud groan, holding his head in his hands. "You both are the most stubborn fools I have ever met…I've been talking to you for five minutes and I can already feel a headache."

"Cry me a river, build me a bridge, and then do all of us a favor and jump the hell off," I snapped. Oh, sure, now I was beginning to worry. Though there were no warning banners hung out on the Castello yet, I was uneasy as I tried to find even a small white speck on the walls. It was a futile task, but at least it was something. "It's not your head on the deck. It's still the same old tale now as it was before- my husband is waltzing right into the heart of danger to serve the Greater Good while you stand around whining about how he isn't doing it properly."

As soon as that was out of my mouth, I shut up, realizing just how unfair that was. Niccolo, however, didn't seem affected by it, though his eyes flashed coldly to mine. I rolled my eyes.

"Alright, I'm…sorry. It's just that I've had to listen to everyone bitch about someone else for the last few months, and frankly, I'm sick and tired of it. Ezio and Claudia are pissed at each other while Maria throws up her hands in the background, you keep insulting Ezio, Volpe is being difficult, Adel suddenly has something up her rear...The only one that really has any optimism left in this Brotherhood is Bartolomeo, and he's not much for making you guys work out your differences."

"This does not stop us from doing our jobs," he countered. His voice warmed about a third of a degree. "Perhaps you should stop trying to solve other people's problems, especially when they are capable of dealing with it themselves."

"I am not trying to solve anyone's problem," I grumbled, "I never have- if you have issues with Ezio, work it out with him. But considering how the talk is going, how long before we start clawing each other's faces off? Haven't you noticed how little trust there is between us? It's not going to lead anywhere good."

The majority of my headache came from the fact that La Volpe was close to hacking up Niccolo for treason, but I wasn't going to mention that out loud. The Thief trusted Ezio, but I didn't know how long that would stop him from acting on his own. And I really didn't want to see any more losses to the brotherhood. But there was a strange feeling of helplessness when it came to tense relations between other people. Especially two male assassins that didn't trust each other. Or even siblings that I would never get in between. Things worked, that much was true, but how long before everyone reached the end of their patience?

Somewhere above, Adel's eagle screeched.

"We should move from this spot," Niccolo suddenly said. I looked up at him, and then nodded; sitting in the exact same location from the beginning of the mission, in plain sight of the guards, was a very stupid idea, and I only just realized it when he spoke up.

"Is there anything I can actually do right now?" I mumbled quietly, getting up and automatically latching myself onto his arm as we walked with the suddenly thick stream of the crowd to less conspicuous location. He glanced at our elbows sourly, but didn't comment. I was all for separating as well, considering his Frown of Eternal Pessimism was beginning to really get on my nerves, but I still had a bone to pick with him. And talking was easier when I didn't have to constantly try to catch up or slow down. "I feel absolutely useless. I should have gone with him."

"And ruined the entire mission that we've been planning for months? No, you are better off outside."

"Yeah, someone has to pull his ass out of the proverbial fire if they catch him," I snorted, somehow feeling slightly better. Not at the possibility of Ezio getting caught, but the fact that I could get him out, and- well, the little detail where I don't end up in a cell myself. I did not want to find out about Cesare's hospitality first hand. Nor did I want to be locked up in a small, stone-walled and barred room. The one time in Spain left an impression I wasn't going to forget in my lifetime, however much of it was left, considering the current circumstances.

It was almost strange, I never thought I'd get claustrophobic...

We turned into a side alley. As soon as there was breathing space, I let go of Niccolo's arm and took a step away, allowing him to take the lead. The place where we ended up had a perfect view of the Castello, yet was hidden from sight of the guards on the bridge. Feeling that there was nothing more to say to the man, I leaned onto the wall, crossed my arms, and stared intently at the grand structure across the river.

Five minutes. I was beginning to chew on my bottom lip, feeling a suddenly sharp stab of worry. I should have gone with him. Just to make sure. Last time we went somewhere, if I wasn't there, Rodrigo was going to kill him for real, instead of forcing me to fake the gesture. Now, the entire family was in that place, and none of them were harmless sheep.

I tried to force my mind into a more optimistic direction. Ezio was going to handle it, considering he was not called the best of the order for nothing. I was only bitter that he got to have all the fun. Then again, there was still plenty of big fish in this fucked up and corrupted sea.

"There's a commotion," Niccolo suddenly stated, startling me out of the silence. He was right, the gates were opening.

"They're probably letting out a new patrol," I shrugged.

"Patrols change right before dawn," he countered, and my eyes flickered to the sun. Yeah, you couldn't mistake that with before dawn any way you put it.

"-is leaving for Urbino! Buona fortuna, Padrone!"

"Why, thank you for telling us where to send the spies, we would have gotten lost in the woods in the opposite direction if it weren't for you," I replied mockingly into empty air.

"Merda!" Niccolo suddenly swore.

"What? Oh, don't tell me-"

The answer came trotting along the bridge as all those who were on the street at the moment hurried to get out of the way. There was even some cheering, in the same tone as I heard at the bullfighting tournament. On a white horse, in a blood red cloak and brilliantly shining armor that reflected the hot sun, rode Cesare Borgia in person.

The same man that I watched put a bullet through Mario's head.

The hatred that rushed though my mind was nearly blinding. I ran before I could even think properly.

...And was jerked back immediately when Niccolo grasped my arm. The grip was unexpectedly strong, and wouldn't allow me to move even when I instinctively tried to twist my arm out of it.

"Settle down, Eden."

"I can get to him in time, there are almost no guards-"

"And do what, exactly? The guards will pull up as soon as Cesare is done making a scene."

"A throwing knife to the skull and this is all over!" I tried to get away again, though I knew that I wouldn't make it to the man in time, even if Niccolo changed his mind and let me go.

"If it were that easy, Cesare would have already been dead. Now calm down!"

"Calm?" I snarled, still vainly trying to yank from his grasp. "Niccolo, that's the man that destroyed our home and killed our family! You cannot possibly tell me to calm down-"

"Yes, I can, and I believe I just did," he snapped, "And if you stop to think for one moment, you would see the futility of your actions as well," he warned, his grip so tight, it would likely leave bruises. "If Cesare is out here, that means Ezio missed his chance. We will not get another strike at him until he comes home. But if Rodrigo is dead, that already solves half our problems."

"Yes, but we don't exactly have a shot at Rodrigo either, Ezio does. So why don't I go and-"

"He's gone already, and you're trying to barge in without any sort of plan. That will get you killed, doing nothing but putting more crippling grief on your family and shorten our ranks, which is the last thing we need right now."

I finally managed to wrench my arm out of his grip, but I didn't try to run after the target any more. He was right. It was pointless now; the best we could rely on was the hope that Ezio had things under control in the Castello.

"So what can we do, exactly?" I asked him in my frustration, my patience running out.

"How do you feel about explosions?" Niccolo raised an eyebrow, looking towards the castle again, his voice thoughtful and irritatingly calm.

"Explosions?" I repeated with slight confusion, "Same as I feel for any domestic acts of terrorism on enemy territory. Fantastic. Why? What needs to be blown up?"

"I have an idea. And since you seem keen on keeping me within eyesight, I will let you help me."

"As if I ever ask for permission. And I'm simply keeping an eye on you. To ease certain concerns."

"Yes, well, you can continue doing that in silence as we walk over the bridge. And let us hope the attention Ezio has attracted is due to the Pope's body...but in any case, they will sound the alarms soon. We should give them a distraction."

"And you thought of explosions?" I raised my eyebrows, already moving towards the bridge, "I think I'm liking you more and more with every pleasant surprise."

"I'm glad you approve," he muttered dryly, joining the streams of those in the white and bright red cardinal's robes. I didn't bother trying to keep up with him, walking a few feet away, and soon we managed to get through the entire lengths of the bridge undetected, gone before a guard could glance at either of us twice.

"What's the plan, then?" I muttered to him once we made it past the bridge. When he didn't respond, I remembered that my voice, which was loud enough for Ezio, was far too low for his hearing. I didn't bother trying to repeat the words any louder, as Niccolo seemed to know exactly what he was doing. I decided to simply trust him for once, and not ask questions in such proximity to the Castello.

There was suddenly a wave of gasps, and the loud calling of horses. The next thing we knew, we were pushed into the Castle wall by the priests and cardinals who hurried to get out of the way of the horse that stormed past. I barely managed to push an old man away before he could squash me, just as another horse galloped by.

Flash of white.

I tried to let out a sigh of relief, but it got caught in my throat as soon as I realized that the city bells were ringing, and there was no way the guards could miss this daring escape.

Niccolo's hand grabbed my arm from out of nowhere, pulling me towards the Castello.

"Wait, should we-"

"Adelaide and La Volpe are nearby, they will help them handle it."

I nodded. A fleeting thought occurred to me that it was naive of Volpe to expect that he could escape the politician's notice. But before I could focus on it, I was pushing my way through crowds, following Niccolo towards the wide open doors to the Castello.

It took a brief moment to orientate in the front courtyard, but Niccolo seemed to know where to go. He hurried off behind the now half empty stables. There were piles of crates and barrels- supplies. From what I could read on the papers glued to them, the containers were mostly filled with ammunition and-

"Gunpowder! You, my friend, are a genius," I bluntly told him, watching as he pried the lid off of the barrel.

"Stand guard while I get this ready," he ordered.

"Use that rope to delay the effects, I'll untie the horses," I suggested, "No need for the animals to get hurt..."

"Do as you like, just make sure I am not seen, or I will not be so welcome inside the Castello from here on out," he ground out.

The two remaining horses were disappointed by the escape of their friends, and were a little too eager to be untied, pulling on the ropes and making it harder for me to untangle the knots. As soon as they felt some give, they shot off, leaving rope burn on my palms.

"You're welcome," I muttered acidly, rubbing at the skin, looking around the corner of the stable to check up on the progress. At that moment, Niccolo grabbed both of my arms and gave me a good shove towards the gates. I left the disgruntled snarling for later, and took the hint, working my legs away from the soon to blow gunpowder.

It went off when we were already out the gates. The explosion sent pieces of the stables and crates flying, the flaming wood thrown up into the sky before falling into a clutter of scorched pieces all over the courtyard. The remainder of the barrels blew up over the wall and into the water, the fire beautifully flashing and arcing above the walls. Niccolo hurried to join the running Cardinals as the guards yelled for retreat and ran in a panic towards the Castello.

I wasn't kidding when I said I liked explosions. Whether it was the destruction part or the flying fireballs that reminded me of fireworks, I wasn't quite sure. Not that mattered either way; I simply loved watching stuff get blow into bits.

But the impression was ruined by the freezing water of the Tiber that some damned priest shoved me into as he fled. And as much as I would have loved to just float and watch as the fire settled, I was suddenly sharply aware that my body didn't like cold. So I just gritted my teeth, sending curses in the priest's general direction as I began swimming towards the other shore line.

I tried very hard not to think about what the river was used for in Roma.

Behind me, I could hear frantic yelling. I took a wild guess that the horses that I untied had trampled over the first guards that tried to enter the courtyard, adding to the general chaos. I couldn't help the smug feeling of sadistic satisfaction.

Machiavelli, completely dry and calm, was standing beside the river bank, leaning onto the wall and staring across the river with a thoughtful expression. When I neared the stone foundation, he tilted his head to me. And then the bastard had the nerve to say "You really should watch your footing more carefully."

Unable to properly voice my indignation, I flipped him off. That got an amused chuckle out of him, which just further pissed me off.

"I'm going to swim in that direction, there's a dock there," I snapped up at him. "I am really not in the mood to climb up this wall while soaking wet."

"As you wish," he responded, his expression a stony poker face, but amusement evident in his voice. I spared him a dirty look, resisting the urge to climb up the wall only so I could grab his leg and fling him into the water as well. I had to make do with the vivid images in my mind and keep swimming onwards.

When I finally pulled myself up onto the dock I only felt worse, trembling violently as the wind chilled me further. I immediately set to work on removing unnecessary clothing, dumping water out of my boots and wringing my hair out. Machiavelli caught up, and handed me his dry cloak. I nodded in gratitude, wrapping it closely around myself, and tried to figure out how much damage was done to my bag.

"Ezio better appreciate this, because I most certainly am not doing that again!" I growled under my breath just as I realized that I would have to replace half the content of my soaked bag.

"Actually, I would appreciate it if you didn't tell him of this."

"For the love of- you think I could care less about your goddamn pride?" I asked with irritation. "You don't want me to tell him you saved our lives before, you don't want me to tell him that it was you who got him the new robes, and now you expect me to tell him that I simply slipped and fell into the Tiber on my own fucking accord?"

He simply raised an eyebrow. His way of dealing with my outbursts only pissed me off further.

"If you think for a second that if someone asks me why I am wet, I will tell them that some altar boy decided it would be funny to push me into the river, or say 'explosion? What explosion?' then you have another thing coming!"

"Are you done?" he asked. I felt the strongest urge to punch him in the face.

"I take back what I said earlier. Once I actually begin to like you, you remind me just why I've always thought you're sort of asshole."

"Your choice of vocabulary stuns with its wit. Come, let's get back to Isola Tiberina before you catch something."

"Aw, it's almost like you actually care," I pitched my voice mockingly, picking up my bag that I managed to hold on to only because it was strapped diagonally over my shoulder.

"Where have you been?" La Volpe barked at us Niccolo and me as we walked down the steps into the main hall of the hideout.

"Looking for Ezio," Machiavelli lied. I bit my lip, but didn't add anything. "So? What of the Borgia?"

The frown on Ezio's face said that the news were not as good as we would have liked to hope. "Cesare left before I had the chance to kill him, and Rodrigo was in another place entirely."

Niccolo shifted his eyebrows together in sincere disappointment. "How odd. Rodrigo should have been at the Castello at this time." Machiavelli commented, and then sighed, turning away. "What a waste... no offense," he threw in over his shoulder, addressing Caterina.

The Contessa actually seemed relatively okay. Or, at the very least, conscious. And well enough to ride over the bridge from the castle with flourish, so I figured things were not nearly as bad as we feared. Emilio, the doctor that recently set up shop on the island, was tending to her legs- the manacles left heavy bruises and tearing wounds on them.

"None taken," she retorted, barely paying attention to Machiavelli.

A moment of silence stretched, filled with Volpe's glaring and Niccolo's demonstrative disregard for it.

"Perhaps this opens another opportunity," Ezio suddenly said, his voice slightly wary. "While Cesare is away, I suggest we concentrate our efforts here, in Roma."

"I thought we had intended to strike now," Niccolo turned to him. I glared at him. Oh, so I couldn't go after the bastard myself, but once Ezio was free to, suddenly it was a great idea? That's it, the moment I got to talk to Ezio alone, I was telling him every single detail of everything Niccolo didn't want him to know about.

"Hmph, impossible," Caterina responded, giving Machiavelli an expression like she was talking to a particularly stupid five year-old. That's it, I viciously thought, smirking and crossing my arms at Machivelli's surprised look at her quick reply, Not so nice when you're on the receiving end of general contempt, now is it? "He commands a massive army," she waved, "I've seen it with my own eyes. You would never make it to him in one piece."

"That is why I say we should work here," I moved to stand behind Caterina, "We have a good start, the underworld is operating, and we have already began to root out the Borgia influence. We should continue. And start immediately."

"You speak as though you are the leader of the Order, yet no decision has been come to yet," Niccolo coldly stated.

"We don't have time to put it to an official vote," I intervened. "To do that we have to gather the Council, but the rest of us have their hands full in their own countries."

"You are not even a part of the Council, Eden, you can hardly-"

"I don't give a fuck for formalities and title, Machiavelli," I rolled my eyes. Just inside the corner of my vision, I could see Caterina smirking in agreement. "This is not some ladder of aristocracy, and I have good reasons to believe that my opinion counts here. But if you feel the need to be official, fine. Let's gather the proper Council, and decide on everything there. See if it makes you feel any better. But that will take weeks, time that we cannot afford."

To be perfectly honest, I wanted to be leader as much as a cat would like to wear a chicken suit. It was Ezio I was defending, though. If anyone, he had all the rights and reason to be the Sheriff in this town.

"There is no reason to argue over this now," Adel, who was silent up to that point, spoke up. Standing up from the chair she occupied on the opposite of the room, she solemnly declared, "We have no choice, and most of us trust Ezio."

La Volpe nodded. "I say Ezio has done more than enough to prove himself to be what this Order needs right now."

Machiavelli pressed his lips tightly together, but did not argue the point further. "So what do you propose, Maestro? Going after Cesare's resources or his army?"

Ezio made that decision in a split second. "I say we attack both. That is something we will have to discuss soon, but for now...Niccolo, Eden, come with me outside."

"Actually, I better go change," I grumbled, still irritated like a cat that was dumped into a barrel of water. Well, actually, exactly that. "Falling into the Tiber doesn't do good things to one's health."

Ezio raised an incredulous eyebrow, as though he had just noticed that I was soaking wet. "How did you manage to fall into the Tiber?"

I shot Niccolo a dark look. "Someone here thought it would be funny to push me into it."

"Che cosa diavolo?" Ezio looked at Niccolo, who was glaring back at me. The man must have realized that was the extent of what I was willing to say, and grudgingly nodded.

"It seemed an idea full of potential entertainment at the time." Even a troll would be able to pick up on the sarcasm that laced his voice.

"You're going on my 'to kill slowly" list,'" I warned him, turning away. As soon as I heard him and Ezio leave, though, I spoke again. "Emilio, Volpe, since all the 'big brave men' have ditched us, would you mind bringing Caterina up to my office upstairs? There is a bed there, and I'll be able to take care of her from now on." I glanced to the woman. "We only furnished recently, and it's not the most comfortable, but you'll have to excuse me for that."

"After a carriage out on the country roads and a prison cell with Lucrezia's hospitality, believe me when I say that I really don't mind," she gratefully smiled.

"Good, because the only other option is the floor," I laughed lowly.

Emilio looked me over with disapproval. "Madonna, you really should change, it is easy to catch something when you are wearing wet clothing."

"Don't I know it," I grumbled, already walking up the stairs to the bedroom.

Once I was finally in privacy, I quickly changed, taking great pleasure in peeling off the wet clothes and drying myself off.

Halfway through the process, La Volpe dropped into the room via the window.

"For crying out loud- you couldn't at least wait until I'm finish?" I hurried to pull the shirt down, hiding my stomach. He rightfully ignored my outburst. "Did you get Caterina into the room?"

"Yes."

"Then why can't you use the door?"

"You locked it," he shrugged. I decided not to ask why he didn't just knock, and got to the point.

"Do you need something?"

He did.

"Eden, where did you go when Ezio needed help getting away from the guards? I had to take the Contessa, and you were nowhere to be seen."

"So, what, now you will accuse me of conspiring with Machiavelli?" I raised my eyebrows, brushing through my hair. His hard stare said that yes, that was exactly what he was going to accuse me of. "This is getting out of hand, Volpe. Or are you just becoming paranoid with your old age like the rest of us?"

"Answer the question."

"We were setting up a distraction so that Ezio could get away from the Castello. Well, Niccolo was setting up a distraction, and I was distracting the guards from his distraction. There were horses involved. And swimming," I wrinkled my nose, "But I've been keeping an eye on him all morning, and he has done absolutely nothing suspicious."

"Aside from the fact that somehow Rodrigo was not in the Castello?"

I felt the sharp urge to bang my head onto the wall beside me. "Why would you say that?"

"Was Machiavelli here last night?" the Fox replied with his own question.

"...no. But he's gone for most days."

"Exactly."

I bit my cheek against the angry retort. "Coincidences. All of it. Niccolo is an ally. I wouldn't stretch it so much as to say 'friend', or that I trust him, but he saved both Ezio and me on a few occasions. Besides? You want to know what he does all the time? Because I have been keeping a very close eye on him."

"Have you now?"

"Yes, I have. And let me see. Mondays and Fridays, he meets contacts and shifts through their information until he's sleep walking. Scary if you meet him in the hallways around three in the morning, believe me. Then Tuesday to Thursday, political intrigue and working for his front as an ambassador from Firenze. What's so suspicious? If anything, I'm stating to feel bad for the man, he's been working on a double edge for longer than I would have had the nerves and patience for."

"You haven't mentioned either Saturday or Sunday." He reminded me. He had been listening to my defensive rant with a lot more intensity and interest than I would have liked, leaning against the wall and arms crossed.

I gave him an icy glare, and then started speaking very slowly, as though talking to a five-year-old (it must have rubbed off from Caterina), "Breakfast at the inn. Bribes. Lunch. More bribes, and more letters. Visits of respect to the important politicians. And on Sunday," I slammed the doors of the wardrobe in frustration. "We play chess."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Well, I'm a crap player, so it's mostly him teaching me how to play," I shrugged. "What? No one works on Sundays. It's in the bible or something. And it can get awfully boring around here.

He let out a forceful sigh. "You have little proof to back any of it up, and he doesn't seem to want to share his schedule with any of us. And you-"

"I was with him while he disappeared, which somehow means that I'm working with him and covering up his tracks. Is that it? Well, I have two counters to that. First, believe me when I saw that Niccolo definitely does not need my help in covering up for anything. And second, have you completely forgotten that I'm Ezio's wife? Do you really think that I would betray him like this when I'm not even willing to cheat on him?"

Volpe didn't look like he believed me. He never did anymore. Or perhaps he never really did in the first place- my skills for convincing people ended where I had to put my knife. Even then, it seemed as though we usually just killed rather than interrogate. There was simply no point or desire to put other humans through excruciating pain for the sake of information that we could get through more subtle means.

Besides, it was always Ezio who played at diplomacy. He was the one with the charm and charisma people couldn't resist from the start.

"Look, believe me or don't. But at the very least don't stab people until you have solid proof of treason, okay?" I muttered warily, "And by solid, I mean, enough to convince Ezio."

Volpe inclined his head. "You should tend to the Contessa. She was saying something about feeling hungry."

And with that, he jumped out the window.

"Yep, he didn't believe me," I grumbled to the wardrobe. The wooden doors answered with sympathetic creaking from the air that entered the room, almost as though filling the space Volpe had vacated. I sighed, and walked out of the bedroom, heading towards the room on the floor below.

"You've really have moved up your ranks, haven't you?" Caterina greeted me almost cheerfully. She seemed in a much better mood, now that she was out of her cell. "You get your own office now?"

"As if anyone could stop me," I snorted in reply, "Most of the rooms are empty anyway, so I figured why shouldn't I get an office?"

I claimed the room soon after Ezio joined us in the hideout. We were both coming back from various missions with scratches and wounds, so I began setting up my own corner where most of my medical supplies were kept. As the months went by, the room also became my workshop, and the shelves around the walls were beginning to get filled up with books and other scraps and souvenirs.

Most of the appeal the room had for me was the fact that it was completely mine. Not part of my husband's estate, not a temporarily rented room or a spare bedroom in someone else's palazzo or house. This room belonged to me. And it contained my desk, my shelves and books, and my air.

And that felt strangely nice, to actually have something that felt permanent.

"I can't say I care much for your taste, but this is a good thing."

"What? The office?" I raised my eyebrows in slight surprise, starting to gather a few of my supplies.

"The hideout- the island. I'm sure the people here feel your presence. And that gives them hope," Caterina shrugged, carefully lying back onto the sole pillow.

"Hope? Yes, I suppose that's one thing to call it," I smiled, remembering my very first contract in Rome. "You want something for the pain?"

"That's quite alright."

"And when was the last time you ate, exactly?" I asked, quickly going over Emilio's work, and nodding with satisfaction. The bandages were wrapped a lot more neatly than I would have laid them, and the salve had a distinct minty scent to it.

"Yesterday."

"Let me guess, stale bread and water?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I'll get you something a bit more filling to eat. And a bath, too...wait." I exhaled sharply, suddenly realizing something. "Caterina- and please answer me honestly here, but did Cesare... erm..."

"Ezio asked me that too," she calmly noted.

"Of course he would. Cesare doesn't seem like the type to leave women alone- especially not such pretty ones."

"He isn't," she lowered her eyes slightly. I swallowed.

"So he did, then?"

"What makes you think so?"

"Call it female intuition- and solidarity."

She smiled bitterly. "Then you are slightly more observant than your husband."

"You told him that nothing happened?" I furrowed my eyebrows with slight surprise, keeping my voice low and calm despite the rage beginning to run through my veins, "Why?"

"He needed to keep a clear head. And some things are better if they are not worn on your sleeve," she solidly replied. "I told Ezio that my name still had some value...but none of it meant a fucking thing to Cesare," she breathed. "I was not certain that someone would believe me if I said otherwise."

"I suppose I'm glad he did," my hands clenched on the back of my chair. The thought of Eve, terrified and broken in my arms, made me want to hurt something. The idea of any woman going through that brought about a sense of helplessness and deep-seated fury. "You're taking this...almost too well."

"As well as I can," she shrugged, somehow managing to make the motion look elegant even in her current situation. "I am in politics, Eden. And I've had my share of husbands. Not all of them were gentle. And Cesare...if the situation was different, I could almost say he was good."

I couldn't help it- I gagged, shivering. "Right, that is something I really didn't have to hear."

"You asked," Caterina's expression had almost nothing to do with her calm voice, though. There was pain and despair there, somewhere in her eyes, something that she didn't let reflect on her face. Despite her words, it bothered and haunted her. Or perhaps it was the loss of her lands. Or the uncertainty of her childrens' fates. The woman had her share of problems, and I didn't believe for a second that she didn't come with her own barrel of trauma and issues just like the rest of us.

She didn't believe her own words at this moment. I knew the attitude and tone. It's the exact same one that I used when talking to my eighteen-year-old self, trying to convince the world that I didn't need anyone but myself, that I was even glad for everything that happened. But my dams broke regularly when I downed shots at the bars and lay in bed awake, shaking with anger or tears. I wondered if Caterina ever broke like that. I doubted it. She had firm control over herself and everything around her. And I envied that in her.

But on the other hand, I'd dealt with my issues. With help, but I moved on and was happy ever since it finished. But Caterina was not likely to ever burn her baggage. She'd carry it around with her for the rest of her life, carefully holding it behind the seductive smiles and foul language.

I cleared my throat. "I'll get you some food, then."