Carolyn opened one eye carefully and judged from the angle of the light falling through the window that it was midmorning. The quiet of the house was deafening after the storm and she had a brief moment of panic that Connor might have taken the child and left before she spotted them. He sat in the rocking chair, eyes closed and a tiny bundle tucked into the crook of his leg. Moving as quietly as she could she stood, and pulled on the robe someone, most likely Diana, had laid out for her across the bed before going to stand by the chair and gaze down at her son. The boy seemed very much smaller sleeping nestled in his father's lap. His skin was not as dark as Connor's but there was no mistaking the mark of his heritage. Leaning over she reached out to stroke the thick mass of black hair already dried and laying against his cheek. Her fingers had almost reached the dark tresses when a hand grabbed her wrist and stopped it with its stony grasp. She turned her attention back to Connor who opened one eye before realizing who stood there and releasing her arm.

"Sorry..." she began, pulling back her hand and pressing her palm to the material of her robe in place of the pink cheek it longed to touch. "I didn't mean to…" she took a sharp breath. "Do you deny that he is yours?" Connor looked down at the babe in his lap. While Carolyn had slept he had not put down his child once, sending Dr. White to return Diana to her house without rising. "He is my son." He confirmed, not sure what else to say.

Carolyn straightened and released the breath she had been holding. "Well, you have kept your side of the bargain. I will do no less. Put the baby in his cradle, Connor. I would not have him present for this next part. Let us go outside." And with that she walked slowly from the room. The hours had served to cool his anger but if she could face this he could as well.

Connor tucked his son gently into the cradle by the bed, stopping briefly to admire the quilt laying across it. Carolyn's hand was evident in both the design and the workmanship. Each square depicted a local animal, its form cut from scraps of pelts of the creature in question. Tiny stitches did a remarkably accurate job of portraying the creature's tracks and diet. He had known she had been working on something but had never seen the finished product before. Settling the blanket across his sleeping son he turned to follow her out, his long stride reaching the door to the balcony shortly after she did.

He followed her curiously to the balcony. He attempted to stir the previous anger and purpose that had filled him last night but she did not draw on him or run to one of the low hanging branches in an attempt to escape. She stood briefly glancing at the sky as the midmorning sun lit the yard. For all that the air was chilly the new rain brought out the scent of spring from the woods nearby .

"I'm afraid I haven't really done this before so you'll have to bear with me". She turned slightly in his direction but did not meet his eyes.

"Would you ask me to be gentle then?" He paced behind her, dagger at the ready for her first move.

Carolyn let out a snort "No. But I would ask you to be quick. Do you take requests?"

Connor thought on Captain Biddle and the Randolph. "Actually, yes. Sometimes."

Gathering her robe around her Carolyn sank to her knees, keeping her back to him. "In that case I think a broken neck." She pulled her braid over one shoulder exposing the back of her neck to him. "It would be easiest to explain if you mean to have me buried. A tragic fall down the stairs. No one could blame you. You need not bury me here if you do not wish to. There's still room in the family plot back in Boston alongside my parents and brother. I'm told it is a clean way to die. I trust you to get it right."

"What is the purpose of this?" Connor's anger flared. He had prepared for a chase or a fight, not an execution. "Why do you not fight? Are you not my father's student? "

"Fight? How would I fight you? Yes, I was his pupil. He taught me to observe, to think, not to fight more than to defend myself against a thug on the street. On my best day I would not be a match for you and today is not that day. This way is easier for the both of us." Her voice took on a note of melancholy. "I have seen you hunt… as well as your other work. I would prefer not to be hung. Or have my throat cut, or be stabbed or shot. I have had much more than a night to think on this, Connor, much more. Ask me what you would know. I'm tired and I never thought to see the sunrise today."

Connor pushed away from the door and began to pace behind her. "Who are you?"

Carolyn sighed. "I did not lie to you, I just did not tell you everything. My father was a doctor. He was also a Templar. I'm told once it was primarily a military organization. Your father made it something more. We are not all soldiers. We have our fair share of doctors and scientists and lawyers. My father was the leader of that side of it, Lee led the soldiers and both reported to your father. When they hung him it was your father who saved my life. He picked me up and carried me out of my own personal hell in his arms. "She took a deep breath. "He was also the one who slit that bastard Pensham's throat for me. My twelfth birthday present was that dagger still wet with his blood. It's in the top drawer if you would like it later. I've seen your souvenirs. It's a good blade."

"And your relationship?"

"If I had been a boy he would have been considered my master but the Order has no such relationships for its daughters. Legally he was my guardian and he was in charge of my education as he saw fit. It would have been pointless to try to hide his own activities in the Order. Small households and secrets do not work well together. Even if my father hadn't been so open about his membership Haytham would have been hard pressed to keep me from seeing something was going on. There are only some many times you can walk in late for breakfast fuming, soaking wet and missing your hat." She sighed at the memory. "He had such bad luck with them. Before the end I actually had extra made and kept them in my room so he'd stop sending me out to fetch him a new one before last minute before heading out again. That painting was in honor of what would have been my graduation to the Order had I been a man. "

Connor thought back to the morning at the brewery. It had never occurred to him where his father went when he left. "So he raised you as a spy…"

"He raised me as a daughter. The only way he knew how. And I could deny him nothing. After the death of my father he was my world. Yes, I gathered information for him. A girl sitting with a sketch pad is hardly likely to get run off by the guards. On more than one occasion they'd actually stop and help pointing out details or offer to let me draw them. "

Connor thought on how many of those guards had probably died at Haytham's hands but did not say so aloud. "And so he sent you after me? What were you to do, draw my picture?" He leaned against the railing watching her.

"I've drawn you many times, Connor. I burned all of my drawings of Haytham before I came. " she sighed wistfully at that. So many memories wasted lest he find out her secret.

"Before he took Lee's place we had a meeting. He promised Lee that everything would be okay and sent him to New York and then we sat and talked and he told me the truth. I begged him not to face you but he insisted. He offered me three options. The first was to marry Lee. It is what people expected. Charles was one of his first pupils over here. I was his obvious heir and people remembered my father fondly. Between the ties and the money it would cement his place at the head of the Templars. "

"Charles Lee was a monster" Connor growled hitting the wood beneath his hands.

"Charles Lee was ruthless and calculating. That does not mean he needed to die!" Carolyn dropped her head slightly before continuing "My reasons for not wanting to marry him were simple and personal. We did not always get along, he was old enough to be my father and his interests in me were purely political. Still I thought it best not to stay around if I wanted to keep that option off the table. "

"The second option" she continued "Was to move to Jamaica and enter the household of another Templar who was an old friend of his and my father's. Difficult to do during the war but manageable. In the end I tried for that. Ironically Lee's death helped smooth the way. Everyone in the Order assumed I was leaving town because you killed him. "

"And then, there was you" Carolyn took a deep breath. "Even facing death he thought of you. He told me of a son from his youth; someone smart and honorable and skilled in combat but mindless, a blade for any hand to pick up. He told me of his promise to your mother."

Connor turned "What promise?"

"The same one you gave me last night. She was to send you to him when you were old enough so that you might learn about his people as well. In exchange he swore to recognize you as his own and protect you from harm as he could. But you never came. Or you came too late. He had made Charles promise to spare you if he could but did not trust that the Order would treat you as kindly as he had. He said that he had tried to reach you but there was too much time, and hurt and pride between you."

"And then he looked at me and smiled and said that I might succeed where he had failed. That you might be willing to learn patience, logic and wisdom from me as you would not learn from him. How could I say no?" Carolyn's voice filled with pride at the memory. That he would trust her with so great a task.

"So before he left for Fort George he settled his estate and taught me about Davenport. About Achilles and the assassins. About the basement and the portraits."

Connor's voice cut in. "How did he even know about the basement?"

"Presumably he picked the lock and inspected the house during one of your escapades. Your travels are surprisingly unsubtle and the lock itself is simple. I can pick it and I sometimes have problems with the heavier mechanisms just due to the weight. The stair way is also fairly obvious to anyone who is looking at the dimensions of the downstairs. I was in myself a few times to check and see if there were any changes, any new targets. That was back before you gave me the key. "

"And so you came to Davenport looking for me"

"Yes. God only knows what I was thinking. I was a fool. I don't know what I expected but I didn't expect you. I thought I might introduce science and reason to the town. To make it like the high days of the Templars in Boston like my father spoke of before the killings began. Other than that I really didn't have much of a plan. I hoped that you would start coming with the others, open your mind to reason and logic and see finally what he tried to teach you, the prodigal son returning late but at long last. It would have been a fitting tribute to his memory. I suppose I thought of you the same way he did, as a lost child. "

"Of course at the same time I was absolutely terrified of you. And angry. Here I was on my own for the first time going up against the boogeyman of my youth. The monster who had killed so many of our people. Who took wasted the gift of being Haytham Kenway's son and took from me the second father I had known. That was the other side of being Haytham's pupil. When he would get called to the deathbed of one of your victims they would talk about business and leave me to hold the man's hand. It was considered fitting work for a woman and they needn't fear what the dying man might say to me. There's a trick to it. A not being. But eventually you return to yourself and find that you're holding the hand of a corpse…" Carolyn shivered and tried to dispel the darkness of those cold hours.

When no new questions were forthcoming she continued. "When I first came here I really didn't know what to expect. The people were so kind. They didn't know about me, I promise that. They were just trying to help a girl on her own. And you were kind. I… I didn't expect that either. I should have known better. I didn't expect to see so much of your father in you or I would have been more careful. I loved him a little, you know, with all the hopelessness of a school girl. You have his eyes." She wondered briefly if her son would share those eyes but pushed the thought away that she would never know.

"My father and I are nothing alike!" Connors voice rolled over her in angry waves and she fought not to flinch.

"You and your father were very much alike. Who would know better than I? I have lived with you both. You are both brave, and honorable and intelligent. He had better control and you are more open but that does not change how things are. When you began to teach me; about the woods, about life outside the city, you showed me a world I had never gotten to experience and I thank you for that. By the time I realized what was happening it was too late. I did try to leave. You must give me that. I knew the odds. A Templar in love with an Assassin? 'Till death do us part'? At least I knew the irony of the vow I was making. " Carolyn toyed with the ring on her finger. She had gotten out of the habit of wearing jewelry staying in Davenport so the rest of the pieces were sitting in her mother's jewel box with a note to her at the time unborn child leaving them in its care. She had not been able to bear to remove the ring though she supposed in a way this was fulfilling the vow she had made.

"You might have told me."

"Told you what? When? By the way you think I'm your mortal enemy, I'm here to betray you, please kill me now?" she shook her head ruefully. "Even with that, yes, I should have. I might have told you before I knew but I could not risk the child. How could I ask that he pay the price for my decision? You may not have told me but I knew who and what you were before I came to your bed."

"Anyway for a while I thought it might work. Once a week I would go and check the basement for targets. I would look up at your father smiling down on me and think that perhaps this would turn out alright, that I was doing his work. The day I found the wall cleared off I was so happy…" her throat closed at the memory "So happy I didn't even care that his portrait was gone. I thought you were done killing our people. I thought we were ready to move on with our own lives. Those weeks after you returned were some of the happiest of my life. It was enough for me but it wasn't enough for you it seems. Then when I was first with child I was so tired I wasn't as vigilant as I should. I didn't see John's painting until it was too late to warn him. It happened so quickly. "

"He was gathering supplies for enemy troops!"

"He was being a business man who dealt in medical supplies and gear. How many others have bought similar supplies but were not chosen to die because they were not of the Order? What chance did he have against you? What chance have any of us against you? He was also a father of three small children and the husband of one of the closest things I had to a friend before coming here. I danced at their wedding, Connor! I failed them both. I did not fail the rest. " From inside the house the baby began to fuss and cry. Carolyn smothered a gasp and tried to block out the noise.

Connor walked over to where she knelt, staring blankly ahead. "And with you gone there will be no one to stop me."

"I had hoped you might consider making me the last." Her eyes turned towards Connor though she kept her head as steady as possible. "Sooner or later you'll get caught if you keep it up. Or they won't need you anymore and will get rid of you. Our…"she swallowed hard, "Your son will need a father, a real person of flesh and blood to be there for him. Not a memory, not a legend… not a stone in a church yard. These new men are nothing to you. I'm the last of the group you hated, surely. I am his last student." A fine shiver began to tremble her shoulders and she rocked lightly on her heels.

"You're cold." He ran his fingers down the line of her jaw drawing a gasp from her as she flinched away reflexively. She caught his hand before he could pull it back. "I'm sorry. I promised. I know. I just need a moment." She kissed the tips of his fingers briefly before letting his hand go. She straightened up on her knees and bending her head briefly, she crossed herself. He tried not to notice that the cross's arms were of equal length and failed. "May the Father of Understanding guide me in this His greatest mystery". With a deep shuddering breath she raised her head and met his eyes at last. "I'm ready now. I promise. I… I won't pull away. I just… I wish you could have known the Haytham I knew. " Her voice grew quiet "I wish you could have for both of your sakes."

He bent before her, taking her face gently in his hands and she pressed her eyes tight shut. Her cheeks like ice against his palms.

"You know your Haytham was a figment of your own imagination" he informed her, wiping the tears away from her cheeks with his thumbs, her pulse jumping visibly in her throat.

"I know that. But so was yours." Her eyes still closed she pressed her cheek into the warm hand against her face and waited.

"She's not wrong you know." A familiar voice rang out as the door behind her opened. "And I thought you were going to wait."