Sorry for not posting a new chapter sooner, Assassin's Creed 3 recently came out and I have been preoccupied with it. PS, Haytham is so attractive I just might make a story about his sexual buttocks one day (not literally). Anyway, I have been reading your reviews and hopefully this chapter is approvable for all of you! I aim to please :)
I awoke happily until I looked from the corner of my eye and saw the desk Cesare had sat in the night before. I jumped out of my bed as if I had had a nightmare. I was in the clothes I wore last night and no one was in the room. The only sounds were from the birds singing outside and the guards giving each other orders to feel more superior than their comrades. I was utterly confused; I searched the room like a thief and tried to find a letter or anything to explain why I was sleeping in my bed. Had I dreamt of the entire thing?
I jolted as the doorknob to the room suddenly rotated and my heart pounded in my chest as I watched Cesare open the door and quietly enter.
He had not seen me but when he did he stopped in his tracks. "Ah, you're awake," he said as he continued to walk to the desk to pick up envelopes.
I was disappointed. I thought he was going to grab his dagger and try to cut out my heart. It would only help me in having an excuse to leave him and ask him for protection from Cesare.
"How did I…" I coughed to clear my voice, but Cesare raised his hand and did not let me finish.
He dropped the envelopes he was looking at and paced towards me. I was terrified of his eyes, the eyes that could stare at me with passion and love, and at the same time could stare at me with anger and hatred; I wished to look away but another part of me reassured myself that this would only win his approval.
"The Assassin brought you here," he said and stopped walking, a mere foot away from me. It was far enough to explain that he did not want to be friendly and loving, and it was close enough to punish me.
My heart, my brain, and my nerves—they all told me to back away. He uttered a simple sentence, but I knew there was more to come. I did not even last a month as a spy to him and Cesare found out. My strong posture broke and I raised my arms to hold on to his shoulders but his reflexes were so fast that he grabbed my wrists and squeezed them.
"Don't try to cherish me!" he barked, his grip grew stronger on my weak wrists.
"Let go!" I cried.
"Does it hurt, Louise?" he asked in a tone that I could not decipher.
I looked away so he could not see the tears of pain and defeat.
He clenched tighter and I thought of scratching him but as I looked down at my fingers, I realized that they were purple and numb. I could not move them and in my panicked attempt to free my hands I only made him angrier.
"These small hands, they are NEVER going to feel the touch of another man ever again! Or anything for that matter!" he yelled, squeezing to the point where I felt faint and fell to the ground. His hands still held onto my wrists and kept my body upward.
A feeling of pain came next; a feeling I can never explain for the thought of it was painful in itself. I thought I was going to die and there was nothing I could do. It took all my power to simply breathe in and out, so I could not scream for help. My last hope was trying to win Cesare's sympathy, something he barely had.
"Cesare…" I choked, "Please…"
This made him angrier. A little voice in my head told me to give up, to close my eyes and sleep. I had many experiences with closing my eyes and "sleeping" so I kept them open and stared at the small dagger hanging from Cesare's side. I imagined what I could do if I got the dagger and even then it would be hopeless—his armor was too strong for a small blade… but my flesh… my flesh was so fragile. I focused back to reality and Cesare was standing by the balcony. I was on my knees and I looked down to see my purple hands lying on my lap. I would not have believed they were still attached to my arms if it were not for my eyes that stared at them. I raised my arms and tried to move my hand but I couldn't. I tried to move my fingers and I couldn't. I moved my arms closer to each other and I could not feel my hands touching each other.
"What did you do to me?" I whispered.
"Pack your bags, Louise. We are leaving," he said.
"No," I said.
He looked at me in shock. "What?"
"I will go nowhere with you."
He walked to me so quickly that I did not have time to protect myself from his punch. I fell to the ground and I put my numb hand to my eye to ease the pain but it did not help.
"You go where I tell you to. Pack your bags, porco."
I stood up and looked at my hands. "Pray tell, Cesare, how do I pack my bags when my HANDS ARE NUMB?"
"Ask the Assassin for help. You seem to enjoy his company. Perhaps he can help you, after all, isn't he always here to aid you?" he snapped.
"You are sick."
"Sick by your disease!"
"Do not blame me for your insanity! You killed that guard in your anger last night, didn't you? You did this to my hands in your anger, and you kill innocent people in your pathetic need for power! Ezio's company is preferred to yours because he is not ill-tempered and a murderer!"
He snickered and said, "Murderer? He is just as much of a murderer as I am, Louise. Just admit it, you fancy yourself in love with him. His company is preferred because he is Ezio and I am simply a past lover who gave you everything but the symbol of freedom and a white hood."
"He is everything you are not! He is kind and—
"Pathetic, Louise. Spare me the kind words that you claim to know. I do not care who you love and who you do not love, you were a stupid mistress to help pass the time—easily replaceable."
"You and I both know that if I were replaceable I would not be here in the first place. You would have killed me months ago."
"Do not think that I will defend you and tell you how perfect you were, because you were not. I will not say how wonderful you were, because you were not. The only thing you were was a misery and an agonizing torture to me," he snapped. "Now go make yourself useful and find a servant to pack your bags for you."
"If I brought you misery and torture, you brought it to me ten times as much! Do you think I enjoyed the neglect you gave me, and the spotlight you lit on me only when you wanted me? You are cruel and unkind. You have broken my heart thousands of times and claim that Ezio is just like you. But he is not; he heals the heart you have carelessly stabbed! You are right, Cesare, I do love him. I love him because he is not you, because he is an Assassin and he hates men like you—an interest we have in common."
I went to leave the room but the door was closed. I clumsily tried to open the door but my hands were like useless stubs hanging off my arms. My face turned red with anger and embarrassment and Cesare silently walked up to me and opened the door. I looked up at him and waited for him to say something. He remained silent so I just left without another word.
Instead of finding a servant like he commanded, I went to the garden. The sun shone down on the plants and I sat on a bench and stared at my hands and wondered how a crippled woman would live the rest of her life. After an hour I heard footsteps from behind me and assumed it was Cesare so I told him to leave me.
"It is not Cesare," said a high proud voice.
I stood up and it was Lucrezia.
"Oh I apologize, how can I help you, Lucrezia?"
"I was supposed to come help you, actually."
"How?"
"Cesare said you fell and hurt your hands and could not pack your bags. He wanted me to pack them for you."
"He should have asked a servant. I apologize for his disrespect to you; you do not need to pack my bags."
She sat down on the bench and ushered me to do the same. We sat together, our dresses touching, staring out past the flowers and hedges onto the vast green country land.
"I still wish to help you, in my own way," she looked at my hands. "Ten miles away is a small village. There is a small inn where thieves gather. Do not ask how I know, but I keep it to myself. I assume they would know how to get you back to Roma to see… Ezio. Since you cannot ride in our carriages and ask to be dropped off at the nearest Assassin's home, you will have to go another way. I have a horse and wagon I can lend you. You will leave in ten minutes, I have your suitcase and the horse by the gates right now."
"Why are you helping me?" I asked in confusion.
She stood up and crossed her arms against her chest. "You are not the only one who wants to escape from Cesare."
I got off the bench and said, "I thought you loved Cesare?"
She laughed. "I play the role. If he knew I loved another man he would have them killed. It is better for everyone this way."
"But you pretended to hate me as a lie? How was that better for me?"
"Oh no I truly do hate you. I simply want to help you leave so it makes me feel as though a part of me can one day do the same. It is complicated. You would not understand."
"If it is not jealousy that causes your hate, why do you hate me? What have I ever done to deserve that?"
"For a woman who I thought had much sense, you have very little. It is jealousy that causes my hate, but not jealousy of you being Cesare's mistress."
"Then what?" I asked.
"Enough of your questions. Come; let us go before I change my mind."
I followed her through the garden and to the gate. The man who sat to drive the wagon wore a ragged cloak to cover himself. I cautiously sat in the back of the wagon as elegantly as possible for a woman sitting in a place where inanimate objects would usually be thrown.
"Thank you, Lucrezia."
The man ushered the horse to move and the wagon slowly began to exit the villa gates.
She remained silent and bit her tongue, and then blurted out, "I am jealous because you are poor and your beauty is nothing compared to mine, yet, the way he looks at you, the way he loved you was a manner in which I have never experienced from anyone. How someone can grow to love you so desperately and purely boggles my mind. I am jealous of that."
"Cesare?" I asked, the wagon almost passing the gates.
"Yes," she sadly replied. "Goodbye, Louise."
The gates then closed and she stood behind them and in her own way, attempted a small wave. I was grateful for the gesture and smiled. After her figure became smaller and smaller I sat in confusion and watched the villa do the same.
That day I left Cesare's side and the following week I was welcomed into the Rosa in Fiore by Claudia. It would be almost a year before I saw his face again, and it would be almost ten years before I would read an old note he never sent to me on the day I left him. It makes me cry to read it now, those simple ten words:
Promise me he will treat you better than I did —Cesare