The chateau was a symbol of Parisian wealth and beauty, and Élise's place of residence since shortly after defecting from the Assassin Order. Passing through the beautifully groomed front gardens and passing by the guards, Élise knew she would spend the rest of the evening winding down, she had more than earned it. She had seen her decision to switch sides fully vindicated. The chants and cheers of the riotous commoners continued to play in her head. Today history had been made. What happened at the Bastille is precisely what she had left the Assassin Order for. They had refused to help the common folk, claimed it was not their war to fight.

She entered the indoors. Timothee, her direct superior, was sitting by a window, having wine below an ancestral Templar shield with the Grand Master.

"Jacques is dead," she said, bloodied hankerchief in hand. "I suspect his head is on a pike right now as well."

François spoke first. "Excellent work, my girl! Your coming to us has been an unfathomable blessing! I hope these events will help the king see reason."

"With all do respect, Grand Master..." Timothee said. "What I was trying to tell you earlier, those traitors, Adam's people...we shouldn't dismiss them as a threat. Just because their order was officially disbanded...was that not our fate, and the fate of our enemies, who we fight to this day?"

"I understand, Timothee. But here we have rare opportunity, a flower to nurture, if you will. We may even have an opportunity to reclaim what was stolen from us centuries ago. Besides, without the Apple, how much power can they really have?"

"But if it's true they found another First Civilization site, who knows what artifacts could be in their hands."

"I will take your point into consideration. But for now I'm afraid I'm late for an appointment with Maximilian and Jean. Best I get there before dark, times being what they are!"

He tipped his glass hard to get his final bit of wine and stood. Walking to the door she had just entered through, he stopped to acknowledge Élise again.

"We are forever in your debt, Élise."

François exited back into the sunny afternoon. Timothee looked at her. "I would like to echo his sentiments. Your performance has been spectacular. Care for a glass?"

"Yes, please," she said, and he gestured her to sit down on fancy chair François had previously occupied.

She sat, chair still warm from François majestic rump.

"All of this creates a power vacuum. François will ensure the right men fill the void. I suspect Lafayette will take control of the French Guard and Jean Sylvain Bailly will become the city's mayor. The Grand Master and Bailly seem to see eye to eye on more than anyone else. I'm very glad you never killed him."

It was painful to remember how she got here. She had been sent to kill Jean Sylvain Bailly at the tennis court. But she could see he was a voice for justice. She had confessed her plan to kill him and offered to switch sides.

But she had needed to give up a secret to gain their trust.

The Templars said most the Assassins in the safehouse had fled upon their attack. She did not know if they were telling the truth.

This man Lafayette, on the other hand? She knew nothing of him, not even if he was a Templar like Bailly, or just someone who had unknowingly garnered their favor.

Timothee continued, "I'm sure you're aware not everyone in our order sees things the same way, Élise. Maximilian, that man worries me. I think François trusts him too much."

"More than I worry you?" she said, gaze solemnly low.

"After today's performance? Yes!"

At least she had secured her place in her new home. The Templars were quicker to trust than she thought they would be, which was good. They rewarded good work, which was good. Her thoughts, however, were still lost in memories of that day she had been sent to kill the man who was now likely the become mayor, and the hard decision she had made.

"I hope François picks the stewards of new France wisely. Even with all we've accomplished, our order seems less cohesive than ever."