First, a few apologies:
1) For the time this took to post. I was on holiday with no internet access at all. I forgot to say!
2) For the abrupt end to this chapter. I'm afraid I was just so desperate to punch out a chapter so you guys weren't kept waiting. Sorry.
3) For the general rushed quality of the chapter. I hope it's not too bad; just bear in mind that it was a bit rushed...
Now, onwards with the story, my chums!
ZIIO
Haytham snapped the letter shut with such a force that it shocked me. His eyes were dancing with passion; he was almost brooding for me to respond.
"There!" he spat. "And there you have it. I did care, Ziio. I have always cared for your wellbeing. Just because I took a different path to the one you would've chosen, it doesn't make me heartless." He slammed the parchment onto the table and almost stormed from the room.
"Haytham..." I breathed, speechless.
The snap of the door interrupted my thought at once. But I'd already forgotten what I was thinking. I did not know what to think. Every word on that page had a chilling effect on my heart. It beat me senseless; it left me stunned. How could words – no more than symbols on a page – have such a grasp on my heart? They were slowly suffocating it like a heartbreak, yet I felt no pain. All I could immediately decipher was astonishment.
At the same time, the words were soft. They caressed my soul like a silk blanket, peeling away my galvanised outer layer. All those honeyed lies – 'I will always be in love with you. Always.' – were nonsense, surely? Haytham wrote the letter a long time ago. But somehow, hearing his voice now, repeating his words with such passion, made me doubtful. Maybe they weren't nonsense. Perhaps he still felt that way.
I couldn't prevent it. A spark of ecstasy lifted my spirits higher than the moon outside. Every ounce of my strength tried to batter the sudden joy...but nothing could slow my now racing heart. I gasped aloud, realising that Haytham's preoccupation wasn't beyond possibility.
After all these years...could it be?
Ziio, stop! You are falling back into his trap. He wants to soften you again, and throw you like an unbroken beast. Why else would the Templars send him to find you?
A sinking feeling made the shadows on the wall a little darker. It was obvious, come to think of it. Charles and the other Colonials couldn't get answers from me, but they all knew one person who could: their own Grand Master.
Yes, Haytham was always good at feigning ignorance. He was a born actor. All those lies...'I'll see you safe' and 'I love you' and 'I suppose you could say that' he was an Assassin. The were just bitter examples. Pretending not to know of Charles' deeds was another to add to the list. At last I sighed, concluding that the letter was probably as untruthful as the hidden blades on his wrists.
What a shame...he wrote the letter so beautifully.
Stop, Ziio. You mustn't.
HAYTHAM
I spent the next hour clenching and unclenching my fists. How could a face that striking be so malevolent? So...sceptical? The only time I'd ever lied was about my affiliation. It stirred up a storm inside me every time Ziio doubted it. That was in the past, as was my men's behaviour that caused her to hate the Templars with such vigour.
Or was it?
My god, I have to face them tonight, I realised. How on earth could I look my men in the eye and sit through a discussion of falsehood? I knew of every one of their crimes. They nearly killed her. The woman I once loved.
An image crashed across my eyes: of her innocent, blood-stained face in the ferocious fire. She was so helpless; so innocent, like a porcelain doll. It wasn't just the sight of a woman dying that made my heart miss a beat. It was the woman that caused it. Even now, every time I was in that room, her matted hair, battered face and devil-scratched skin held a certain beauty. The beauty that tore me away from everything that I thought mattered. Everything.
Reading that letter gave me a new (or rather, old) type of passion. I was not embarrassed in the slightest by reading it. Was that strange? It lifted me to my old, romantic ways. I remembered when I really did feel all those things I wrote about. So why didn't they seem too distant? The emotions that only Ziio could awaken were lightly dormant. And now they were stirring. Not a single part of me tried to stop them.
Maybe it was because she was here. Maybe it was because of what my men did. I wasn't to know.
There was a knock on my office door. I looked up from the wooden desk, calling: "Come in."
Rose peeped around the door shyly. "I have prepared tea for your guest...forgive me, but I have forgotten her name. Diio?"
"Ziio," I corrected, remembering with a sting that 'Diio' was an early mistake I made.
"Ziio. Shall I take it up to her now before your colleagues arrive?"
I sighed. They'd be here soon, I thought, looking at the darkness outside the window behind me. "Yes, please," I responded. "And Rose?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Do tell her to keep quiet tonight."
Rose bowed her capped head, and closed the door gently. Well, that was one of my worries sorted. Now, the meeting...
ZIIO
"All for me?" I gasped, still astonished.
"Every last crumb," beamed Haytham's maid.
I gawked at the silver tray placed before me. Every type of food I'd ever tried from Boston was there: flaky white pastry, crimped to form a perfect pie. Inside, pieces of warm, specially-cooked meat lay waiting to be eaten. Plants like tender flowers, with petals removed. On another gleaming dish there were berries that I'd never seen in the forest before, in juicy colours that I couldn't resist.
"Wow," I breathed. "Thank you."
She bowed her head and almost curtseyed. I smiled at her sweetness; her willing to be kind. At least there is one person in this house whom I can trust.
"Before you go..." I stopped her as she headed for the door.
"Yes, Ziio?"
"May I ask you to leave the door open?"
Rose bit her pearly lips. "W-well," she stammered, looking at her feet, "I think that'd be against Master Kenway's orders."
Haytham this, Haytham that. He isn't worth obeying!
"He needn't know," I smirked. "In any case, should you find yourself in trouble because of it, tell Haytham that it was on my orders."
Rose looked at the door like it'd give her comfort, but nodded. "All right. As you wish." She wandered over to the old desk and scraped the chair along the floor, placing it by the door.
Now, I could hear everything those bastards were saying.