Weeks passed in isolation for Amelia, with no human contact except for the doctor and a handmaiden who brought her basic necessities. The Borgia family kept her locked away, as if she was nothing more than a possession to be hidden from the world.
Amelia's only solace during these long days was keeping track of time through slash marks on the walls. It was a small act, but it helped maintain her sanity in an otherwise bleak existence. Every few days, the doctor would check on her joints and wounds, providing minimal care and pity in his visits.
Initially, Amelia thought she had caught a bug when she woke up one morning unable to keep food down. But as the days stretched into weeks, she couldn't ignore the fact that she hadn't bled in over a month and a half. She used to think it was due to the trauma she endured at the hands of the Borgias, but as she heaved into a chamber pot, a chilling realization dawned on her - she was pregnant. A wave of fear and uncertainty washed over her as she contemplated what this meant for her future.
Amelia's hands trembled as she wiped her mouth, her mind reeling from the implications. Pregnant. With Ezio's child. There was no doubt in her mind that it was his. Cesare hadn't been back since she had been brought here and the day of her capture he hadn't been given the chance to finish his assault on her.
Amelia sank to the cold stone floor, her back against the wall as she tried to process this new reality. A child. Ezio's child. Growing inside her even as she languished in this gilded prison. Her hand drifted to her still-flat stomach, wondering at the tiny life taking shape there.
Part of her wanted to weep with joy. Despite everything, this was a piece of Ezio she could hold onto. A reminder of their love, of the passion they had shared. But fear quickly overshadowed that fleeting happiness. What would the Borgias do when they discovered her condition? Would they harm the child? Use it as leverage against Ezio and the Assassins?
She had to find a way out of here, and soon. For her sake and the baby's.
Days blurred together as Amelia's morning sickness worsened. She did her best to hide her condition from the doctor and handmaiden, fearing what might happen if the Borgias discovered her pregnancy. But as weeks turned into months, she knew it was only a matter of time before her secret would be revealed. Her stomach was starting to swell and though the shirt the doctor had give her was baggy on her she knew it wouldn't hide her secret for long.
Three months into her confinement she had a surprising visit. Rodrigo Borgia, current pope of Rome. It was in the evening that he unlocked her cell and invited her out for a stroll.
Amelia hesitated, eyeing the Pope warily. His presence both unnerved and intrigued her. After months of isolation, even the company of her captor seemed a welcome change.
"Come, my dear," Rodrigo said, his tone deceptively gentle. "Surely you'd like to stretch your legs?"
Reluctantly, Amelia rose and followed him out of the cell. The cool night air hit her face as they emerged onto a secluded balcony overlooking Rome. For a moment, she closed her eyes, savoring the feel of the breeze on her skin.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Rodrigo mused, gesturing to the city below. "Rome, the eternal city. The seat of God's power on Earth."
Amelia remained silent, her hand instinctively moving to shield her growing belly.
Rodrigo's eyes flickered to her protective gesture, a knowing smile curling his lips. "Ah, I see our little secret is growing, isn't it?"
Amelia's heart raced. She tried to keep her face neutral, but her panic must have shown through.
"Come now, my dear. Did you think we wouldn't notice?" Rodrigo chuckled. "The doctor has been quite observant."
Amelia's mind reeled. They knew. Of course they knew. How could she have been so naive to think she could hide it?
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rodrigo turned to face her fully, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. "What I want, my dear Amelia, is for you to understand your position. You carry a child of great importance - a child of two worlds. Assassin and Templar blood mingled in one vessel."
Amelia's throat tightened. "You're wrong. This child is Ezio's alone."
The Pope's laughter was cold and mirthless. "Oh, you poor naive girl. Do you really think Cesare left you untouched that day? His seed mingles with your Assassin lover's. This child could be either - or perhaps both."
Horror washed over Amelia as the implications sank in. She shook her head in denial, even as doubt crept into her mind. "No...no, that's not possible."
"I assure you, it is very possible," Rodrigo said, his voice low and menacing. "And it makes your child all the more valuable to us."
Amelia backed away, her hands protectively cradling her stomach. "You lie, to break my down. This child belongs to Ezio, not the Borgia." she hissed.
Rodrigo's eyes narrowed, a cruel smile playing at his lips. "Your conviction is admirable, but misplaced. Whether you choose to believe it or not, the truth remains. This child could be the key to uniting our two factions - or destroying one of them entirely."
Amelia felt her back hit the balcony railing. She was trapped, with nowhere else to retreat. "I won't let you use this child as a pawn in your games," she said, her voice trembling despite her attempt at defiance.
The Pope stepped closer, his imposing figure looming over her. "My dear, you don't have a choice in the matter. You are here by our grace, and that child grows within you by our allowance. Do not mistake our current leniency for weakness."
His words sent a chill down Amelia's spine. She knew he was right - she was at their mercy. But she couldn't let them see her fear. She had to be strong, for herself and for her child.
"What do you want from me?" Amelia asked, forcing her voice to remain steady.
Rodrigo's expression softened slightly, though the predatory glint remained in his eyes. "For now, my dear, we simply want you to be comfortable. To ensure the health of both you and the child. In time, we will discuss your future role."
He reached out, his hand hovering near her swollen belly. Amelia flinched, but didn't move away, knowing she had nowhere to go. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he placed his palm against her stomach.
"Such potential," he murmured, almost to himself. "This child could change everything."
Amelia remained still, her skin crawling at his touch. "You are delusional." She whispered. Where he thought her child would change the world or be invaluable to them was beyond her. It quickly dawned on her though. The only thing this child was capable of was controlling Ezio. And through Ezio the assassins.
Rodrigo's eyes narrowed at her words, his hand still resting on her belly. "Delusional? Perhaps. But I prefer to think of it as visionary." He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You see, my dear Amelia, this child represents more than just a bargaining chip. It's a symbol of unity, of the potential for peace between our factions."
Amelia scoffed, trying to hide her discomfort at his proximity. "Peace? The Borgias don't want peace. You want control."
"And is that so wrong?" Rodrigo asked, his voice silky smooth. "Think of the lives that could be saved if our two sides were to lay down arms. The progress we could make together, rather than constantly working against each other."
His words were honeyed poison, and Amelia found herself momentarily swayed by them. She shook her head though because she knew that Cesare shared a different vision than his father. Cesare wanted the assassins dead.
Rodrigo's hand slid from her belly to her waist, pulling her closer. Amelia's breath caught in her throat, her body tensing at the unwanted contact.
"You could be the key to all of this, Amelia," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. "You and this child. Think of the power you could wield, the influence you could have."
Amelia tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. "I don't want power or influence," she said through gritted teeth. "I just want to be free."
The Pope chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Freedom is an illusion, my dear. We are all bound by something - duty, love, ambition. The question is, what will you choose to be bound by?"
His other hand came up to cup her face, forcing her to meet his gaze. Amelia's heart raced, torn between fear and a strange, unwelcome attraction. Rodrigo's eyes were mesmerizing, filled with dark promise.
"You could have everything, Amelia," he whispered, his thumb tracing her lower lip. "Power, wealth, influence. All you have to do is embrace your destiny."
"Get your filthy hands off me!" She spat in his face. He let go of her stumbling back enough for her to skate by him and make a run for it.
Amelia's heart pounded as she ran, her feet barely touching the ground. She had no idea where she was going, but anywhere was better than being in Rodrigo's grasp. The corridors of the Vatican seemed endless, twisting and turning like a labyrinth.
Behind her, she could hear shouts and the pounding of footsteps. The guards had been alerted. She pushed herself harder, one hand protectively cradling her swollen belly as she ran.
Suddenly, she found herself in a large, ornate chamber. The Papal apartments. She frantically looked around for an exit, but the only door was the one she had just come through. Trapped.
The sound of pursuit grew louder. Amelia's eyes darted around the room, searching for a weapon, a hiding place, anything. Her gaze fell on a heavy curtain near one of the windows.
Without hesitation, Amelia darted behind the curtain, pressing herself against the cool stone wall. She held her breath, trying to quiet her racing heart as the sound of footsteps grew closer.
The door burst open, and she heard multiple sets of feet enter the room.
"Search everywhere!" Rodrigo's voice boomed, filled with rage. "She cannot have gone far."
Amelia closed her eyes, silently praying they wouldn't find her. She could hear the guards moving about the room, overturning furniture and opening doors. Her hand instinctively went to her stomach, as if she could shield her unborn child from the danger surrounding them.
Suddenly, the curtain was ripped away. Amelia gasped as she found herself face to face with a young guard, his eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, they stared at each other, frozen in shock.
Amelia's heart pounded as she locked eyes with the young guard. His expression shifted from surprise to uncertainty. For a fleeting moment, she saw a flicker of sympathy in his gaze.
"Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Help me."
The guard hesitated, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword. Amelia held her breath, every muscle in her body tense as she waited for his decision.
Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out. "Have you found her?"
The guard's eyes widened in panic. He glanced over his shoulder, then back at Amelia. In that instant, she saw his resolve harden.
"No, Your Holiness," he called out, his voice steady. "Nothing here."
Relief washed over Amelia as the guard stepped back, letting the curtain fall back into place. She heard the Pope huff in frustration as he stormed out of the room with the rest of the guards. The young guard that had lied opened the curtain again and she gasped.
"Quickly," the young guard whispered, gesturing for Amelia to follow him. "We don't have much time."
Hesitantly, Amelia stepped out from behind the curtain. The guard glanced nervously at the door before turning back to her.
"Why are you helping me?" Amelia asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The guard's eyes softened. "Because it's the right thing to do. No one deserves to be held captive like this, especially not in your condition."
He led her to a small door hidden behind a tapestry. "This leads to a secret passage. Follow it to the end, and you'll find yourself in the gardens. From there, you should be able to make your way out of the Vatican."
Amelia hesitated, her hand on the door. "What about you? Won't you be punished for helping me"
The young guard shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "Don't worry about me. I'll figure something out. Just go, quickly."
Amelia nodded gratefully. "Thank you," she whispered, squeezing his hand before slipping through the hidden door.
The passage was dark and narrow, forcing Amelia to feel her way along the damp stone walls. Her heart pounded in her ears as she moved as quickly as she dared, one hand on her swollen belly for balance. The air grew thick and musty, making it difficult to breathe.
After what felt like an eternity, Amelia saw a faint glimmer of light ahead. She quickened her pace, hope surging through her. As she neared the end of the tunnel, the smell of fresh air and flowers replaced the dank mustiness.
Amelia emerged into a secluded corner of the Vatican gardens, hidden behind a thick cluster of rose bushes. The night air was cool against her skin, a welcome relief after the stuffy tunnel. Moonlight filtered through the trees, casting eerie shadows across the manicured lawns.
Amelia paused, catching her breath and surveying her surroundings. The gardens were vast, and she could see the looming silhouette of St. Peter's Basilica in the distance. She had to move quickly before her absence was discovered.
Keeping low, she crept along the edge of the garden, using the shadows for cover. Her heart raced with every rustle of leaves or distant shout. The baby seemed to sense her anxiety, kicking restlessly within her.
As she neared the outer wall of the Vatican, Amelia heard voices approaching. She ducked behind a large stone fountain, pressing herself against the cool marble. Two guards walked past, their voices low and casual. Amelia held her breath, praying they wouldn't notice her.
"Did you hear about the commotion earlier?" one guard asked.
"Yeah, something about a prisoner escaping," the other replied. "Probably just another false alarm. You know how jumpy His Holiness has been lately."
Their voices faded as they moved away, and Amelia let out a shaky breath. She had to get out of here before the entire Vatican was on high alert.
Scanning the area, she spotted a section of the wall where ivy had grown thick and wild. It looked like it might be climbable. With a silent prayer, Amelia made her way to the wall, her heart pounding in her chest.
She grabbed onto the sturdy vines, testing their strength before beginning her ascent. The climb was slow and precarious, her swollen belly making the climb even more challenging. Amelia gritted her teeth, focusing on each movement as she inched her way up the wall. Her arms trembled with exertion, her joints while healed were weak still and sweat beaded on her brow despite the cool night air.
Halfway up, she heard shouts in the distance. Her heart leapt into her throat as she realized her escape had been discovered. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced herself to keep climbing. She was so close to freedom; she couldn't give up now.
As she neared the top of the wall, her foot slipped on a loose vine. Amelia gasped, clinging desperately to the ivy as she fought to regain her footing. For a heart-stopping moment, Amelia dangled precariously, her fingers digging into the vines as she struggled to find purchase. The shouts were growing louder, closer. She could almost feel the guards' eyes on her back as she clung to the wall.
With a surge of desperate strength, Amelia managed to hook her foot into a sturdy section of ivy. Panting heavily, she pulled herself up the last few feet, her arms burning with the effort. As she reached the top of the wall, she allowed herself a moment of triumph.
But her victory was short-lived. The drop on the other side was steeper than she had anticipated. Amelia's heart sank as she realized she had no way down without risking serious injury to herself and her unborn child.
The sound of running footsteps echoed through the garden below. She was out of time.
Panic gripped her as she scanned the area for an escape route. Just then, an eagle soared into view and her eyes followed its path to a corner of the wall. Her heart raced with hope and fear as she cautiously made her way over to the spot. Beyond that wall lay the river, her only chance at freedom. But what about her child? Could she really risk jumping from this height with them in tow? She didn't know, but she had no other choice but to try.
Amelia took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to do. The shouts were growing closer - she had mere seconds before the guards would reach her. With a silent prayer for her child's safety, she closed her eyes and leapt from the wall.
The fall seemed to last an eternity. Wind rushed past her ears as she plummeted towards the dark waters below. Just before impact, Amelia curled her body protectively around her swollen belly.
She hit the water with a thunderous splash, the shock of the cold stealing her breath away. For a moment, she was disoriented, unsure which way was up. Panic clawed at her chest as she fought against the current, her lungs burning for air.
Finally, her head broke the surface. Amelia gasped, gulping in precious oxygen as she hovered in the water for a little bit to regain her bearings. She could hear shouting from the other side of the wall and she smiled triumphantly.
Amelia's triumph was short-lived as the reality of her situation set in. She was free from the Vatican, but now found herself in the cold, dark waters of the Tiber River. The current was strong, threatening to pull her under at any moment. She knew she had to get to shore quickly, for her own safety and that of her unborn child.
With determined strokes, Amelia began to swim towards the nearest bank. Her muscles screamed in protest, weakened from months of confinement. The weight of her wet clothes and her swollen belly made each movement a struggle. But the thought of her child, of Ezio, of freedom, pushed her onward.
As she neared the shore, Amelia could hear the commotion on the Vatican side of the river. Torches flickered along the wall, and she could make out the silhouettes of guards searching for her. She pushed herself harder, fighting against the current with every ounce of strength she had left.
Finally, her feet touched the muddy bottom of the river. Exhausted, Amelia dragged herself onto the bank, collapsing onto the damp earth. She lay there for a moment, panting heavily, her hand instinctively moving to her belly. Nausea bubbled up in her throat and she keeled over, emptying the contents of her stomach on to the pavement, head hand on the wall next to her holding her up.