Élise sat sipping tea, looking at the light snow now falling upon the back garden.

It had been about a quarter of a year since she delivered the proposal of a truce. At first, Gouze's position had not been clear. Élise had returned to the Café Théâtre two weeks later. Gouze had confirmed they would cease hostilities in Paris. Élise had asked about a broader secession of hostilities. Gouze had said she had sent word to the other Assassin outposts in France. Élise visited a month later. For whatever bizarre politics entangled the Assassins, peace had stopped at the borders of Paris. The truce did not change the world, but it had changed Paris, and that was something marvelous.

Circumstances were not good for the rest of France or Europe. Bread prices were rising again. Thousands were dying in war. But here, in her home city of Paris, she had created a little oasis of peace between two bitter enemies who had been at war for centuries.

Things between herself and Arno now felt better than ever, at least since they had first met incognito at La Fête de la Fédération. They laughed and smiled together more than ever, and, for the first time, advised each other on technique. Even the others seemed more at ease with him.

What future did she have with him? She had her affections. But how reciprocated were they? Did he forgive her for betraying the Assassin Order? Did he consider himself an Assassin, or a Templar now? Could she get an honest answer? She had been too petrified to ask.

And if they were to marry? Then what? She realized more starkly than ever why this was not a woman's world she had given herself. Pregnancy and the life she led were not something that meshed.

The thoughts of motherhood brought her back to her family in Normandy. Her mother was, of course, long gone. But her father and sister...What did they know now? And who else had come down to Normandy besides Benoît?

The door behind her opened, jolting her out of he thoughts.

"Élise!" Timothee said. "I have received word one of the Illuminati's most powerful operatives, a man named Hugo-Adam Dubea, has met the grave! It sounds like Assassin work! That alliance you forged has proven most fruitful!"

"I am beyond honored, Monsieur."

"I bring other news, as well. The Convention has declared the king will be put to death. Thirty-three charges. The vote for conviction of treason was nearly unanimous. The vote on the death penalty was much closer. Right or wrong, the Illuminati were neck deep in this. It was Robespierre's proposal to convict the king, and his insistence this vote be by The Convention rather than the people. It was Marat's motion to make all the votes public." She already knew most of that. "Given this is such an achievement for them, I suspect some of their big names will be in attendance for the show."

'The show.' Those words stung a little, perhaps because she had met the king and ridden with him back to Paris, or perhaps because knowing he was an Illuminati bane gave her a small sense of amity with him.

"You want me to attend and see who I can find? Kill them?"

"Oui. But it will be a tremendous crowd. I am sending both of you, you and Arno, and I want you to split up when you arrive." He adjusted his cravat. "The execution is being held at the Place de la Révolution the day after tomorrow, during the late morning."

Place de la Révolution. Formerly named the Place de la Concorde.

"Splendid," Élise said dryly. A beheading and an assassination to fill a winter's morning.