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I heard Ezio's voice in the entrance way. I couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but I knew he was talking to Claudia, for she answered back. I was in "my room". On the top floor, just before the loft Mario had prepared for Ezio, was a small room on your right. It was roomy, actually. With a small window on the fall wall, it was lit tastefully. I could see out into the city, which served as fair entertainment. Every once in a while, something interesting regarding the people happened, be it a brawl or perhaps a love confession, it was very amusing.
Placed by the wall was a quaint bed, nothing like the bed I had at Ezio's home, but it was fine for its purpose. It was adorned with plain mahogany sheets, and I had to admit the plainness of it all was quite… inviting. I didn't feel the need to sit carefully on the bed for fear of messing it up, nor did I feel as though I should preserve the mattress. Considering the comfort of the bed, I would assume it was filled with some cheap form of cotton, which was quite comfortable. A desk was across from the bed, a table with a chair, really, but it was I all I needed. The room was a dull blue, and it was a very relaxing feeling when one entered.
Considering the fact that I hadn't slept in a whole day, I made myself comfortable on the bed. I awoke early the next morning. I groggily trudged down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"Buongiorno, Melina," Mario greeted once I had come into the entranceway. It seemed as though he was just coming from his office, heading outside.
"Buongriorno, Ser Mario," I returned the greeting groggily.
"Would you do me a favor, Melina?"
"Si, Messere. What do you need?" I tried to sound more awake, but failed miserably. I usually need a good hour to wake up fully, but I was trying my hardest to snap to!
"Wake Ezio up, will you? The boy's going to miss his training! I swear he'd sleep through his own funerale (funeral) if he could," he muttered. Subconsciously, I wondered just how one would sleep through their own funeral, seeing as to have a funeral in the first place, you'd have to be dead.
"Va bene. I will," I told him as I retreated back to the stairs. To be blunt, I was in no mood to go up stairs, but I did it for Mario. The man was so kind to me, burning a few calories going up godforsaken stairs should be cake.
Ezio's room was a very… interesting one. With no bed, I honestly wondered how it could be considered a "bedroom". There, right in front of me, was Ezio, fast asleep with his face plastered on his desk. He must've been writing something, for there was a quill beside him, no to mention his face on a piece of paper.
"Ehi, Ezio," I murmured as I shook his shoulder gently.
"Mmm…" he groaned before lifting his head up.
I couldn't contain myself. "Hahaha! Ezio!" I laughed while pointing at his forehead.
He looked so confused. "What are you talking about, Melina?" he asked while reaching for his forehead. There, stuck on his face, was the piece of paper he had slept on. When he pulled it off, he blushed, and began to grumble to himself.
"Oh, don't be embarrassed!" I assured whilst trying to contain my laughter. "I-it's fine!" I laughed more, however. Ezio finally caught on, laughing heartily with me.
"Well good morning to you, too," Ezio said in a friendly, sarcastic way.
"G-good morning…" I said between laughs.
"Now, come on, it can't be that funny can it?" Ezio stood placing the paper in the pile on his desk.
I tried to make my face serious. "No, not at all." I let one last laugh slip before stopping altogether.
"What is it you woke me for?" he asked.
"Oh! Yes! Your uncle wishes to meet with you for… training I believe." To be honest, that little episode with the paper made me forget.
"Right…" he muttered, walking past me and to the ladder.
"What's wrong?" I asked before I too descended the ladder.
"He insists that I stay, telling me that I should train for my family, if not him." He turned to me. "I'd rather leave right away."
"Where would you go?" I asked. We began to make our way to the courtyard, descending many flights of stairs.
"Spain. I would take you all away from Italy," he stated.
I stopped in my tracks, making Ezio turn to me in confusion. "Me included?"
"Yes, of course." He furrowed his brows. "Didn't you say your home was in a different country? Once safe, I could take you there," he explained.
I was flattered, really. To the point where I got butterflies. Did he really care about me that much? "T-thank you, Ezio. But, uh, I have not told you the complete truth."
Ezio took a few steps towards me. "What do you mean?"
"I shall explain after you are done training. It would take a long time," I told him.
"Bene." Ezio and I continued down the stairs until we reached the courtyard.
"Ezio! Join Bertrando in the ring!" Mario exclaimed as he gestured to the open ring, in which a large man, whom I assumed was Bertrando, inside. Ezio did as asked, and climbed over the wall and into the ring with Bertrando.
"You can swing a sword, to be sure," Mario began. "But offense alone will not carry a battle. You must survive long enough to strike. I will teach you how to dodge."
"I still do not understand, uncle. My father was no more than just a banker!" Ezio stated. As I leant on the wall of the ring, I listened in carefully.
"No use in dancing around it, I suppose. Your father was an assassin, Ezio." It all made sense then, the blades, the special robes…
"I told you before: my father was a paper pusher!" Ezio exclaimed. 'No, Ezio… think…'
"No. He was born and bred to kill," Mario stated simply.
"I find this difficult to believe!"
"What of the list you carry? Do you think it's merely a catalog of debts? It holds the names of those responsible for your father's murder." Once Mario said that, I looked expectantly at Ezio, waiting for some kind of dismissal to the previous statement.
But none came. Instead, Ezio went on with the lesson, learning how to properly dodge a man's attack. I, however, busied myself with finding the washroom. I stunk.
I searched for a long while before finally stumbling upon it. A small bathtub was placed in the corner. 'Ahh… water...' I had forgotten there was no tap! Reluctantly, I left the washroom to trudge out to the well. I noticed with a fleeting glance that Ezio was no longer in the training ring. 'Hm. Oh well,' I thought. As I leaned down to gather water in a bucket, though, I found him.
"Buon pomeriggio, Melina," he said from behind, scaring me… yet again.
In fright, I dropped the bucket of water, soaking my face, my dress… everything really. I glared daggers at Ezio, who's eyes bulged from their sockets. "M-mi d-dispiace… I didn't mean—"
I began to laugh. I wasn't one to take these kinds of things seriously. "It's fine, Ezio! I don't mind!" I began to wring my dress out. "I was beginning to get hot in this god awful dress, anyway."
"You don't like the dress?" That's right. Maria had given me this dress. Gah! I swear I could be a real bitch sometimes!
"No, that's not what I meant!" I exclaimed, waving my hands furiously in the air. "The dress is beautiful! But I'm just not a big fan of dresses. I'd rather run around in a shirt and pants," I explained.
Ezio's face lightened. "Then let's get you some!" He reached forward, grabbing my wrist and pulling me along with him… wherever he was going.
I hadto get her out of a dress! otherwise... how would she run along rooftops?
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