The rain stopped by morning, though the skies remained gray and gloomy. The town was slowly recovering from the attack, most of the guards away from their posts, healing wounds. Many of the Pazzi guard were also gone, replaced by Lorenzo's men in their yellow and brown uniforms. Bodies were cleaned up during the night, and the rain washed away the blood that was smeared over the streets. Life in Florence was restarting again. Though most citizens were still in shock, it didn't stop them from walking down the street to talk to their neighbors and merchants about what happened. The city was even louder than usual, with all the gossip going around.

I didn't hear a word about Ezio and me, though. If anyone knew who was responsible for saving Lorenzo, and killing Francesco, they kept their mouths shut. I decided it was better that way. The Templars probably knew who did it, but this would at least give them some doubt.

"We should go see Lorenzo," Ezio said as we walked through the wet streets. I nodded, wrapping my cloak around me tighter. Thankfully, I didn't get sick after my little stunt in the middle of the night, though to tell the truth, that was most likely because Ezio kept me warm afterward. Grateful for the peacefully blank moment, I was left feeling affectionate and rather deferential towards the assassin

"Where would he be?"

"His house, I suspect. But before we go there... I want to show you something." He suddenly changed direction, walking around a corner. In confusion, I followed.

He brought me to a large square building, and with some hesitation, walked inside the small courtyard. I looked around curiously.

"What is this?"

"This was my house," he muttered, his voice lower than usual. "I'm surprised Lorenzo didn't give it to someone else by now. They barely even tried to fix it, it seems," I just noticed that the front door was missing, and there were blood stains on the ground.

"What happened, Ezio? You never told me the entire story," I asked, putting a hand on his forearm. His eyes flickered to me underneath his hood.

"I was running a few errands for my father. When I came home, I found the place ruined, Mother in shock, and Claudia and Annette frightened and in hiding," he sighed heavily as he walked through the empty doorway. I followed. "While they went to Annette's sister's house, which was the brothel we met at, I went to the prison to talk to my father."

I looked around the room. Vases were smashed on the floor, furniture was turned upside down, the wallpaper along the wall ripped and peeling. It wasn't dark- the morning sunlight lit up the room sufficiently. But a thick cover of dust had already settled on the expensive looking rugs.

"He told me to come back here, and open the secret door in his office," Ezio pointed at the fireplace, "In there, I found a chest with this armor, his sword and hidden blade. And the codex page that Leonardo used to fix this," he lifted his right arm, showing me his bracer. "Also in the chest was proof of a conspiracy against the Medici. As I left with everything, I was attacked by two guards. Rather than even bothering to arrest me, they tried to kill me right away." His expression darkened as he continued. "When they were…dealt with, I ran to Uberto's house."

His fists clenched, and I felt a great rush of sympathy for him as I listened, moving aside the furniture. On some strange impulse, I slid the table back against the wall and turned a couple of the chairs right side up. "He said he'd have my father and brothers freed the next morning. Instead, they received no trial I and heard him claim that he didn't know what my father was talking about. Then, he had them executed. And I could do nothing to stop him."

He watched me putting things in their right place in silence for a moment. And then began helping me, lifting the undamaged furniture.

"I'm not good at offering comfort," I slowly began. "The last time I tried, you thought I was insulting you."

"That seems like such a long time ago, now," he murmured. "It's only been a few weeks, however."

"Yes, but the most bizarre month I've ever had," I chuckled sadly. "Maybe you'll be able to come back here, after everything is done."

"This isn't going to end, Eden," he thoughtfully said, picking up the one vase that survived and putting it on the shelf. "And there won't be a reason for me to come back. This is a mere memory now. It's not the house I used to know, not without my family here."

"I know that feeling," I frowned slightly, remembering how it felt to come back to my apartment from the hospital. Cold. Empty. I felt like a guest in my own home.

"Do you?" he let out a heavy breath, "You said you hated your home from day one."

"It was still home and my family," I reminded him, "I hated the neighborhood and I hated the people around it. But I loved my family. Like you loved your family and Claudia and Maria."

We stood in silence for a moment, looking around the house. It was mostly cleaned up now, though the cold feeling didn't leave. Even as the warm rays of the sun illuminating the room did little alleviate the oppressive air of loneliness. I was never one to believe in ghosts or anything even resembling the supernatural. But one could tell that villa was devoid of any sort of familial comfort, at least for now.

"Why did we come here?" I swallowed, "To clean up?"

"Closure," he stated simply, and I suddenly understood. Revenge was not enough to say goodbye to the old ways of life, or even to those you loved who were lost forever. It played a part in finishing the chapter. But this was the final part of this stage of Ezio's former life.

"And what do you feel?" I wondered aloud. He thought about it.

"I'm not sure. But no worse, that's for sure."

"Well then, whenever you're ready," I took a deep breath, going to to stand by the doorway as he threw one last look around the building. After a while, he turned to me, giving a forlorn smile before following me out into the streets.

It was time to turn over a new leaf.

---

The beauty of Florentine architecture was still spectacular after all this time, the magnificence of the skyline constantly surprising me. It was amazing, considering some of those buildings didn't even exist in my time. Tall, pleasant houses, clean streets, mosaiced, bubbling fountains, classical statues and stunning murals gave it that unique feel of Italy.

I'd never been outside New York. But I always thought that if I managed to get out, I would travel. At one point, I even made a mental list of places I wanted to go. China, Russia, England, Germany... Sometimes I'd stop and laugh at myself, thinking that I'd need more than one lifetime to visit all of them. I also knew that it wouldn't matter where I went, it would still be the same as America- polluted, overcrowded, corrupted.

But this was something else entirely. No electricity, no cars, no firearms and advanced technology. The dress, the buildings, the guards, the weapons, the streets; it was all so beautiful and different, it took my breath away, and not for the first time.

The Medici palazzo, as they called the palaces, was a gigantic mansion, with white walls, carved statues and frames and elegantly iron-wrought balconies. We walked into the now open courtyard, looking for the captain of the guard, or Lorenzo himself. A passing maid told us that Lorenzo was out, however. But he was not far from there, on the bridge overlooking the Arno River. We could meet him there if we wished.

"You know, this is weird," I declared as a sudden thought came to mind. Blinking against the brightening afternoon sunlight, Ezio looked at me with surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're an assassin, right?"

"...sure."

"And I'm technically one too."

"Right."

"And we just saved Lorenzo and killed a potential tyrant."

"Okay."

"Why does everyone hate the assassins so much, then? Shouldn't they make a life-size statue of you and worship it, giving sacrifices of virgins under twenty years old?"

"Eden, you're not making sense. Though I like this virgins idea, tell me more..." I shook my head at his grin.

"What I mean is, why is everyone so bent of hating you if you don't kill anyone who doesn't deserve it?"

"Who's to say who deserves it and who doesn't?" he suddenly countered, and I crossed my arms.

"You're missing the point. Francesco would have turned this place into hell, and you prevented that. Yet they're still afraid of you."

"Not just me," he gave me a pointed look.

"No, just you. Assassin in white, not 'some random woman tagging along,' Ezio."

"Are you jealous?"

"We're straying from the point again."

"That's because I don't know how to answer."

"Well, take a stab at it."

"....you did not just use that pun."

I hummed. "No, I didn't."

"Good. But Eden, if you knew there was a killer on the loose, what would you think about him?"

"...I'm not the best person to ask that, you know."

"Neither am I. Ask that beggar," he pointed at a man clothed in rags sitting with his back against the wall of a building just in front of us. "See if he gives you a better answer," he snorted, and I frowned.

"You're right. Sorry."

"No need to apologize," he blithely declared, mood shifting back to casual. "I'd ask the same."

We walked in silence for a little as we stepped onto the bridge. Lorenzo was standing in the most visible spot, beside the railing overlooking the river.

"Well, you talk to him," I suddenly said, "I have some stuff to pick up."

He raised an eyebrow, "Eden, you helped save his life. I'm sure he'd want to thank you."

"No, seriously, I should go. This is really not my place. Send him my best and all that. And I didn't actually save his life. If you weren't around, then I wouldn't even have made it a few steps with him hanging off my shoulder."

"What, you won't even stay for the reward?" he asked slyly, and I glared.

"I'm not quite that greedy, you know."

"Oh, please, I see that gleam in your beady eyes. Just admit it."

"First of all, I don't have beady eyes! And I'm not admitting anything."

"Come on," he smirked, quickly taking me by the hand. If it'd been anyone else, I couldn't easily slipped out his grasp. But he was admittedly fast…and I was focusing on where Lorenzo stood at the moment. "I'd sure there's something you already picked out for yourself that you're just dying to buy." That made me freeze, my thoughts going to the dagger I was looking at two days ago.

"How did you know that?"

"I didn't. I took a stab at it," His smirk was infuriating. I glared at him some more, even as my resolve was weakening.

"I hate you, you know that?"

"Always, mia piccola."

---

"She's something," Lorenzo muttered, arching a questioning brow as Eden skipped off. Ezio stayed behind to straighten out a few details, while she bowed off, saying she had a certain tailor and armorer to visit. "Very strange."

"You haven't seen anything yet," Ezio agreed with a fleeting smile. He already long since noticed she had a slightly unhealthy obsession with her knives and weaponry in general. "But let's get back to the conspirators," he continued, expression swiftly becoming serious again.

"Of course. I've already named Jacobo's hit-men. I suspect they will be hiding around Tuscany."

"My uncle has men stationed in the countryside. I think I'll go back and talk to him about it. One of them will talk before he dies." Ezio nodded, beginning to turn away when Lorenzo put his hand on his shoulder.

"I took this out of Francesco's files," he handed over a yellowed scroll into Ezio's hands. "I always had a fascination with things of antiquities... as did your father.

"It is meaningful to me as well," Ezio gratefully nodded.

"Then consider it a gift!" Lorenzo smiled. Placing his hands on Ezio's shoulders in a show of respect, he bowed his head. "Farewell and good luck finding Jacobo. May fortune smile upon you, Signore Auditore."

Ezio bowed in turn and walked off, heading back to Leonardo's. Eden would find her way back hopefully, though she had little knowledge of the streets.

---

I was very pleased, as now I had clothes to call my own that actually fit me. Including new trousers, a few tunics and a couple of doublets, I could better blend in with the crowd and no one would give me a second look. My newly bought dagger also bounced on my hip in its sheath, under the cloak. Lorenzo did offer a reward, even though I didn't expect there to be any in the first place. Not that I minded. With my half of it, I was able to buy the weapon and still have some left over.

Now, I just needed to find my way back to Leonardo's...

I knew I forgot something. Great, I was lost in Florence without Ezio. I vaguely remembered that it was in a general direction northeast of the bridge over the Arno, but... I moved through the street, hoping that something will trigger my memory. But so far, all the houses looked exactly the same, and I was starting to get nervous. I must have taken the wrong turn somewhere...

The solution came to me by itself. Actually, it didn't come, but more like roughly seized my arm through the cloak, and yanked me into the alley I was just passing. I gasped out of surprise.

"Alright, hand it over!" a low, male voice hissed, my eyes narrowing in reply. The hold on my arm didn't loosen. When I finally got used to the darkness of the alley way, I noted that there were only two of the robbers, and both had knives of questionable quality.

"Hand what over?" I asked innocently, while mentally calculating the distance between my free hand and the nearest weapon. I could easily twist my arm out of his grip, though I decided to wait a little longer. The thief holding me laughed.

"Don't play stupid! Hand over your money!"

"Well, that's no way to talk to a woman," I smiled, seeing their shocked expressions and that they were taken aback. They likely thought their victims were supposed to be screaming for help, not smiling in a cheerful way. They were probably novices as well, picking off women who were more likely to be paralyzed in fear and just hand everything over without question. How would they know that I spent my entire life in the backstreets? "You have to ask politely," I snorted, "And then I'll consider letting you run away."

He laughed again. "You're not in a position to make threats, puttana, so hand over every last florin you have!"

"Burk, maybe we should-" the second one started speaking, but the man holding me just waved him off.

"She can't do anything, now, can-" His next words were lost as I twisted my arms out of his grip in a fluid motion, hand snapping out and snatching him by his arm. At the same time, my other hand flew to my dagger, unsheathing it and driving it into the robber's calf quicker than he could let out a hiss of retort. I yanked it out, jumping away as he fell. Though not before I whirled around and pressed my weapon to the throat of the other man. Shoving him backwards, his back quickly smacked into the brick wall behind him.

Ignoring the pained howls of the first thief, I pleasantly asked, "You seem a reasonable fellow. Can you just tell how to get to Leonardo da'Vinci's workshop?" His mouth gaped like a fish, no sound coming from him. "Come on, just point me in the right direction and we can both skip off on our merry way."

"You- you w-were g-going the r-right way," he stuttered, "He's on the ne- next street."

"Good boy. Now shoo," I lowered the dagger, stepping back. He booked it further into the alley, and I stared after him thoughtfully, before sighing. "Of all the people you could have robbed, you picked the one woman that was armed." Barely sparing a glance to the thief on the ground who was still moaning loudly, I walked back the way I originally came, heading to the workshop.

Silly cutthroat. They'd collect him later- I knew where I stabbed, and I knew he'd survive if he got help within two days…though he'll probably have a bit of a limp for the rest of his life. But that would teach him to think twice before robbing a lone woman walking down the street. Or at least hold them down in a decent attempt to snatch some florins off of them.

I shook the blood off my new dagger, and returned it to the sheath. The money was well spent- it was almost an extension of my hand. Moving through clothing and flesh as if through warm butter, there was almost no resistance. It was a dangerous toy, and I don't blame the blacksmith for keeping it under the counter for so long.

It wasn't long before I saw the familiar house, and walked inside.

"Leo?" I called, "Have you seen- Ah, there you are," I noticed Ezio sitting in one of the chairs, probably half asleep. Leo was fluttering around his table, one of Ezio's bracers taken apart. He seemed to be in the middle of hollowing out the blade.

"Eden?" Ezio looked up, and waved in greeting. I came over and sat beside him.

"What's he doing?" I jerked my head in Leonardo's direction. He didn't even seem to notice me walk in, completely engulfed by his work.

"Lorenzo gave me another codex. Apparently that blade can deliver poison if worked correctly."

"Poison?"

"Yes. Would you have any, by chance?" he asked, and I mentally went through the contents of my bag.

"I think so...only one bottle though, and it's not exactly poison, more like a toxin. I had it in case I ever needed to play dead."

"Why would you need to do that?"

"You never know." I shrugged. "Anyway, it reduces heart beat rate, putting you in a death-like coma. Got it illegally, and paid an arm and a leg for it, but..." I made a vague gesture with my hand.

"Hm. The strange things you buy," he said thoughtfully.

"Like I said, you never know what you might need," I offered him a fleeting grin, "The only problem is, they might bury me before I wake up. Then I'd be dead for real."

"Really now?" he asked sarcastically. I snorted. I was actually planning to use the poison in case any more of my friends died, to get away from Larry. But I ended up here before Jake kicked the bucket, so it was still tucked away in my bag, in a padded pocket, "Anyway, we're heading back to Monteriggoni. There are five people in Tuscany that need attention."

"I'm all ears."

"Apparently, Jacobo hired four hit men."

I tried to remember who it was that attacked Lorenzo and his brother. "The priests and bankers?"

"Right. They're all in league with the Templars."

"Lovely, more people who are out to get us," I leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes. "How are we going to find them?"

"Uncle has people there. He should point us in the right direction."

"Are we storming the place the minute we get there, or do we have a few days to rest?"

He laughed. "I think we have some time. It'll take at least a few days, if not weeks to actually track them down."

"Well, I'm looking forward to it. I liked Tuscany. It had unfriendly guards, and a generally depressing feel to it, but other than that, it was great. We didn't do enough sight seeing during the attack on it, you know."

"I wonder why. It might have been the part where we wanted to assassinate the commander..."

"You know, Ezio, you make the phrase "They're out to get me," true."

"Do forgive me for doing my job."

"You're forgiven. I'm part of it, remember?"

"Sadly."

"Oh, hush," I waved. Pausing, I suddenly remembered something. "Oh, yeah! Here," I produced a rolled up piece of paper from under my cloak.

"Where the hell do you keep that stuff?" he asked, taking the paper from me. I smirked.

"Don't ask," He unrolled the poster, raising an eyebrow. "Look familiar?"

"Surprisingly enough, yes. The artist did a good job." he tilted his head a little. "Fifty thousand florins for my head?"

"Yep."

"Templars' work?"

"Most likely. Lorenzo can't do anything about these, I suspect, or it would look like covering up for an assassin. These are all over town. I'm insulted though," I pouted as he rolled the poster up neatly again. "I helped too."

He laughed. "Oh, yes, it is an enviable thing, having every citizen potentially want to capture and kill me. Lucky me."

"But seriously, though, they could have at least mentioned me somewhere." He chuckled again, and reached over to ruffle my hair. I ducked from under his hand out of habit.

"Don't worry, mia piccola, I'm sure that sooner or later they will recognize your efforts. Then you can have the pleasure of having your portraits hung around the city and random people attempting to stalk and kill you."

"It's finished!" Leonardo suddenly exclaimed, and I nearly fell off my chair, startled. Ezio snorted at my expression, taking the bracer from the painter. "I loaded it with a doze of poison for you. If you run out, just visit a doctor."

"A doctor?" Ezio furrowed his eyebrows, putting the hidden blade on his right arm.

"That which cures can also kill in high enough dozes."

"I knew it! It's all a conspiracy!" I muttered, standing up.

---

"Eden..."

"Yes?" I turned to Ezio, away from my horse.

"Why do you have blood on you?"

"I do? Hm," I looked down to find that I did, indeed have blood on me. "Must have been that robber."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, there was this one prick that tried to take my money on my way to Leonardo's," I shrugged, and went back to securing my bag to the horse's saddle. It shifted slightly, snorting, but other than that, completely ignored me.

"Will the poor man recover?"

"How do you know I didn't kill him?" I raised an eyebrow.

"You'd have a lot more blood on you if you did," he threw a glance up and down my body. "But the stain is pretty low. Leg?"

"Yep," I nodded. "It was his fault, anyway. He only held one of my arms, and didn't even shut my mouth."

"Heh," he chuckled as he lightly got in the saddle of his own horse. I followed suit "When will they learn?"

"Learn what? How to eat with a spoon, or how to shove the said spoon up their nose?"

He snorted. "No, I meant that if you see a girl by the name Eden anywhere within eye sight and with weapons, run for your life."

"Hey! Like I said, it was his fault! I would have walked right past without even noticing them!"

"Sure, keep telling yourself that."

"You're mean." I leaned towards him, and poked him on the arm. He gasped dramatically, clutching at his arm, as if in pain.

"No! My life is flashing before my eyes! Is this the end?! I don't want to die young! This beautiful face will have gone to waste for on nothing!"

"Ezio." The drastic change in my voice must have tipped him off, because he opened his eyes and looked at me.

"What is it?"

I nodded my head towards the road, licking my lips nervously. He followed my gaze, and I heard a sharp intake of breath.

"What the-" he broke off, and swallowed hard, paling.

"Alright, whatever you do, don't look down," I suddenly commanded. And, of course, he just had to look down the moment I said that.

"What is that?"

"I told you not to look."

"What the fuck is that, Eden?!"

"I think it might be a liver," my lip trembled slightly. He stared at the said organ for a few more moments in shock, and then jerked the reins, pulling the horse away from it.

"A liver?!"

"Yes." I looked away from him as he bent over and turned his stomach inside out, leaning out of his saddle. The horses shifted nervously. I slid to the ground. Since Ezio was obviously a little busy at the time, I got the... hm, pleasant job of finding out what happened.

I felt bile rise up in my throat as I leveled with the first corpse. It was a soldier, his armor torn to shreds, and... yep, the gaping hole in his torso proved that it was his liver that Ezio's horse stepped on. There were about ten bodies lying on the road and beside it, some in decent condition, others with their limps cleanly chopped off. Then there were those who looked as if they were mauled by animals. There were a few horses too, in the same condition as the bodies.

"There's a few arrows. They must have walked into an ambush," I said thoughtfully, trying my hardest not to throw up. After all, I've seen corpses before, even drowning in their own blood, sometimes. But this was a thousand times more morbid. They couldn't have been dead for very long, as the crows barely started gathering, and someone would have found them by this time.

I knelt down beside one body that was not equipped in armor, like the others. His neck and face were barely visible under all the blood, and he was clutching at his bag in a death grip (Please forgive me the pun). Shuddering inside, I took that bag away from him.

"Ezio? Are you alright?" I asked with concern, but he didn't respond, gripping his stomach and mouth, though he seemed to have already forced all his breakfast out. "Come on, let's get out of here. We'll talk to Mario when we get to the villa."

He nodded gratefully, and I took his horse by the reins, holding my own as well and leading us through the cleanest spot. "Come one, deep breaths. Don't look at them. Focus on something else." I chewed on my lip. He grunted. "One of them was a messenger." I held up the bloodied bag. He didn't reply, as if afraid that if he tried to, he'd end up vomiting again. We were just past the scene now, and I headed further along the road, wanting to get away from there as fast as possible.

"This makes no sense," I declared after a minute, "If it was an ambush, supposedly for whatever the messenger was carrying, what the hell was the point?"

"To get whatever he was carrying?" he offered.

"You're not helping - obviously, that was the reason. What I mean, is, whatever it was, it must have been really important. There isn't usually that many guards with messengers, right? So why did they leave the bodies out?"

He seemed to feel better now that we were away from the scene. Even I felt very sick at the sight, and I was at this for longer than him. He was actually holding up well, though I couldn't say that for the contents of his stomach.

"They just... left them for the crows," he suddenly muttered angrily, and I slumped my shoulders.

"That's what you're worried about? I'm a little more concerned about the attackers still being around. Whatever mauled those poor soldiers were definitely not swords and arrows, and probably not humans. If they took down a group that big without any losses..."

"Some sort of animal?"

"I think so. I'm not sure dogs would be savage enough to do that, but I guess that depends on the training and how much you starve them…wait a moment," my eyes widened, "There were dogs that day that I was in the market. Five of them, some sort of new breed, or something. But those puppies looked like they could easily swallow you whole. Seems like they only prefer entrails, though..." I stopped talking as he paled further. "Hey," reaching over, I put a calming hand on his knee, "Don't worry, we'll tell Mario when we get to Monteriggoni. He can send a message to Lorenzo, or something. The bodies will be taken care of."

He nodded stiffly. I finally gave him back the reigns to his horse, and then climbed back up onto my own. "I have just never seen such disrespect for the dead. Not only ambushed and... mauled, but just left out, for the animals. And for what?"

I looked down at the messenger's bag in my hands, opening it, and searching through. Unlike its owner, there was no blood on the inside or on the papers. I tried to shift through them and holding on to the reins at the same time.

"Mostly letters... Nothing really that important... a few complaints to the Medici... This must have been sent out before the attack, this one is for Lorenzo's brother." I furrowed my eyebrows. "What could be so important as to attack a heavily armed squad? Though by the looks of it, they had no problems."

"We should get these to my uncle. He'll know what to do with them."

"Sure," I spotted something, though. "Wait a moment. "

There was a secret compartment at the bottom of the bag, underneath the papers. I barely noticed the black string. Familiar with this type of hiding spot, I pulled gently, and after a few seconds, the bottom began to peel off.

"They should have taken the entire bag, it seems." I hummed, as I pulled out a few more letters stashed there. "These are still intact. Oh, dear."

"What?" Ezio tried to look inside the bag, curious now.

"This... this is really important stuff," my eyes widened as I read the names on the envelopes. "From the Duke of Milano to Lorenzo... This one is to the Archbishop of Florence, who I believe was one of the conspirators, yes?"

"That's right. Is there anything else?"

"Yes," I suddenly froze as I picked up another package. This one was fatter, and had something shifting inside of it. By the sound of it, I'd say a necklace. A very heavy one. And possibly very expensive. "We really need to get these to Mario." Before I screw morals and steal it. Old habits die hard, they say.

"Lets get on it, then."

There were no objections to that.

---

"Ah, Monteriggoni. Still depressing as ever," I thought out loud. As we walked through the town, people nodded their heads, recognizing the master of the villa. Or, the master's relative. I don't know how these things work.

Anyway, I noted with some surprise that a few of the buildings were being rebuilt and fixed. Like the old church that we passed on our way was definitely boarded up before had workers filling in the holes in the walls and laying down the roof. The cross, which was taken down temporarily, was leaning on some cart beside the building.

"What's going on? I thought you Uncle didn't have the time and money to fix this town up," I asked, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion. Ezio shrugged.

"He didn't. I gave the architect the money my father left in his office."

"Hm," I hummed in thought as we neared the steps leading to the villa. I cheerfully waved to the mercenaries in the rink, and one of them tried to hide behind the other at the sight of us.

"Ser Ezio, Signora," The leader gave a respectful nod in greeting, which we returned. I looked towards the man in the rink again.

"How's you nose? Healing properly, I hope?" I asked with the most innocent expression of concern I could manage. Ezio gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. The mercenary glared at me, and didn't reply.

"I see the repairs are going great," Ezio motioned in the direction of the church.

"Yes, the architect was very eager to get to work once he had the money. The town is still far from perfection, but there are definitely more travelers that pass through here." He looked over us, his eyes sliding over the cut on my cheek and the bandage on Ezio's arm. Then he stared at the blood soaked bag in my hands. "And what news do you bring?"

"Good and bad ones. Is Uncle in his study?"

"Yes," the mercenary nodded, and we headed up the stairs further.

---

"What?!" Mario leaned forward sharply. I flinched. "Are you sure?!"

"I've seen them myself," I nodded. "I don't know why they paraded through the town like that, but they were definitely real, and very dangerous."

"This is not good." The messenger's bag lay opened on his desk, all the contents out. He looked through the papers as he listened to me. Ezio decided to let me do the talking, as even a reminder of the scene made him very uneasy.

"There were at least ten fully armed men there, and they were all killed. The attackers didn't lose any people at all."

"How do you know that?"

"The men that I saw in Florence were wearing different colors. There was no orange on the dead."

"But... soldiers from Rome? They must have came with Borgia. But what could they possibly have wanted."

"I don't have the faintest idea. I didn't even know they were from Rome until now," I shrugged, unsure what to say. "And I also don't get why they left the bag behind."

"Maybe they weren't after the letters?" Ezio suddenly suggested.

"But what else could they take? None of this makes any sense." I sighed.

"Well, I will contact Lorenzo, and these will be delivered. Hopefully he'll overlook the somewhat tense relations for this." Mario concluded. "We'll investigate. Now go and get some rest. I'm sure you're both tired."

I let out a relieved breath, standing up, and began to leave. I stopped to throw Ezio a questioning look, but he didn't move, and I remembered he wanted to talk to Mario about the conspirators that got away. I shrugged, and walked out the door, heading to the room I used the last time we were here. Considering the two scratches on my back, and the two wounds on Ezio's arm and shoulder blade, we'd be staying here for a little longer.

---

When Ezio finally came out of his Uncle's study, he witnessed a rather... interesting scene in the entrance hall. Eden stood with her arms crossed, staring down a tall man he vaguely remembered as Lars. He was at least a head taller than the girl, and yet she still managed to look more menacing compared to him.

"-I said you can go and throw yourself off a cliff, Lars!"

"How dare you-?!" he yelled back.

"What is going on?" Ezio asked tiredly, somewhat afraid for the man's health if this continued.

"Oh, nothing," she shrugged, still glaring at Lars. "He was just leaving," she continued forcefully, and the man stared at her, furious. He then looked at Ezio, turned around, and stormed out of the front door. Immediately, Eden calmed down, all her anger disappearing.

"What did he want?" he wondered, coming closer.

"He claims that I agreed to be his... hm, girlfriend the last time we were here. He also tried to convince me that we got married," she threw the statement crossly, and he was stunned. "But come on! Who in their sane mind would let us get married when we were that wasted? Or did the priest indulge a bit, too? Besides, I would remember something like that."

"So are you sure you're not married, then?" he raised an eyebrow, and she crossed her arms, her face thoughtful.

"Even if we did, I don't give a crap. I refuse to even acknowledge it. If he comes near me again, though, I warn you, I'll get violent."

"I'm surprised you haven't already. He's awfully persistent."

"Anyway," Eden waved a hand, "I don't know what I saw in him in the first place."

"I thought he reminded you of your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, they look a lot alike, but that only means anything when you're very drunk," she stated. "If I liked him in any way when sober, I'd actually stick around instead of kicking him down the stairs."

Stick around? he thought with confusion as she continued, "Anyway, we should get some sleep. Go on, you still look a bit sick."

"She stuck around with me, didn't she? What does that mean?"