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Chapter 41

While the judges of the celebration were preparing to officially recognize the obvious winner of the contests, Ezio busied himself with monitoring the fun around him, watching for anything suspicious. He was startled when a familiar hand took his and led him over to where some people were dancing.

"There is a city guard watching you," she informed him. "Dance with me, mio caro. He won't be suspicious if you're busy."

Ezio knew better than to search for the guard Rosa claimed to see. It was best not to look to conspicuous. "Do you know how to dance?" he asked doubtfully.

"Only a little," she admitted, "but we can imitate what everyone else is doing. We're quick on our feet, and they're drunk."

Indeed, the footwork and hand gestures were simple enough for both of them to pick up, and soon they had some basic movements down. Once these movements became routine, they began to focus on each others' conversation.

"You had me worried during that fight," Rosa told him.

"I'm insulted."

"I mean it. That large one hit you pretty hard right here," she poked his chest as he winced from the bruise.

"You're not helping it heal," he grunted.

"Mi dispiace. I didn't realize you were such a baby."

"I thought you said you were worried," he answered indignantly.

"I was when I thought you were going to lose. Now you've won, so I'll stop worrying and you can stop complaining," she suggested with a teasing smile.

"I hope now you know why I didn't want your help," he told her.

"For the same reason you kept me bedridden for months," she answered with a glare. "You don't want me joining your fun."

"Or perhaps I don't want you to get hurt," he corrected.

"I appreciate the thought, Ezio, but I think we both know I'm capable of handling myself."

He sighed. She was right. He had been impressed by her performance in Mario's ring in Monteriggioni. She could fight, and if she couldn't fight, she could run. Her endurance was unmatched, perhaps even by his own. She never backed away from a challenge, and she was never cooperative when anything or anyone kept her from facing one. In the face of all danger and fear, she was ever her foul-mouthed, witty self. It was, after all, one of the things he loved most about her.

He paused in his thoughts.

Love?

"Do you embrace love with your heart? Or is it only an idea in your mind?" Teodora's words rang in his head.

She was looking at him, expecting a response to her assertion. He lifted his mask and kissed her. She was taken by surprise, but she adapted to his romantic response as he brought her closer to him, placing his hand on her cheek and stroking her hair to the back of her head with his fingers.

They lingered there longer than either of them expected. When Rosa loosened her grip around him to allow him the option of pulling away, his grip became tighter, so she likewise tightened hers again.

Sì. Love. He had an answer to Teodora's question.

She released his lips and looked up at him, concerned. "That was…interesting," she observed. "Is everything alright?"

Ezio was about to respond when the enthusiastic (and inconvenient) master of ceremonies began to speak.

"Signori e signore, the time has come to award the golden mask! Contestants, please come to the stage, and we will announce our winner!"

Ezio pulled away from Rosa, swearing under his breath at the man as he obeyed his instructions.

The master of ceremonies continued to prattle on as the men on stage awaited the announcement. Ezio paid little attention, as he was the clear victor. Instead, he watched Rosa, who was shortly joined by Antonio and Teodora to watch the ceremony.

"….the winner of the golden mask is…Dante Moro!"

Those were the first words to catch Ezio's ear, and they brought all his focus back in an instant. He was speechless as the crowd around him booed at the result. The mask was handed to the man whose nose he had broken.

Without a word, he made his way to his companions, who were frowning and staring at the ground, thinking quietly to themselves. Once again, time was of the essence, and once again, what little time they had was reduced by a complication.

They returned quietly to La Rosa della Virtù.