August 1, 1503

Roma, Italy

"Something's wrong," Ezio spoke.

Catherine felt the same.

It had been easy to get back to the city, skirting over rooftops and then down to alleyways where they could blend in with the nighttime crowds. It did the trick to keep the guards' attention away from them—that, and they were all being called to where the Banker had been killed—and it made it seem like they were in the clear. However, when they approached the courtyard of the Rosa in Fiore, something was off. It was in the air, you could say; the usual crow was somber and whispering as they gave strange looks to the ornate building. There were less drunks. Less girls. Less the usual atmosphere.

Indeed, something was wrong.

"There!" she hissed, grabbing Ezio's sleeve and pointing to two courtesans sobbing near the main entrance. She didn't need to see his face to know her husband was panicking a little, his mind running through the same fears she was, and they hurried over. The girls' eyes widened as they approached, loosing another wave of tears, and reached for them.

"Oh-!" one began as Ezio took hold of her arms.

"Where are Claudia and Maria and Federico?"

"We came back with the money, but the guards followed us home!" the other sobbed, and that was all they needed to hear. Ezio spun on his heel and charged right for the door, Catherine a step behind him. He practically broke the wood from the hinges, Hidden Blade ready to strike down any soldier that had dared to hurt his family. His wife readied her own, but it was for naught. The two Assassins stopped short at the sight of blood staining the floor in deep, red pools, and the plethora of bodies littering the floor.

They were all Borgia soldiers. And towering over them was Claudia and her son. The mother wielded a dagger glistening with red while her son a sword, also stained, and they looked like they'd seen a battle. They were unhurt, though, and Catherine couldn't help laughing while her husband looked on in disbelief.

"What?" Claudia hummed, shrugging with a coy smile on her face. Beside her, her son chuckled, sharing a knowing look with her.

"My sister knows how to wield a knife," Ezio mused, a relieved—and proud—grin on his face now.

"And I am ready to do it again."

"Spoken like a true Auditore," Ezio chuckled, coming forward.

Federico huffed, "Hey, now. I took down some of them, too, Mother!"

"Yes, you did, and I am proud of you, but you were late. I told you to stop letting the girls fawn over you," she quipped back with a sharp jab and a disapproving look. "I am of the mind to put you on permanent outdoor guard duty."

"What? Ah—no need, Mother. I will mend my ways," he grumbled before moving past them towards the back rooms.

"You've improved a lot more than I thought, Claudia. Isn't this your first real kill?" Catherine spoke up, coming forward with a hand held out for the knife. "Here, I'll clean it."

"Thank-you, Sister, and, no, not quite. I had to kill one back in Monteriggioni before my dagger was knocked from my grasp, but I made sure to never forget your lessons—or Ottavio's."

Ezio balked, "Wait—'lessons'?"

The redhead grinned, "She swore me to secrecy, buuut...."

"Years ago—before I was even married—I asked Catherine to train me how to wield a dagger. I never knew if I would need it and you would not be around to help. I swore I would never be so helpless as I was when Father and our brothers were taken."

"Ah... I," her brother began, reaching for her. He paused, though, but then laid his hand on her shoulder gently. "I am sorry, Claudia—for how I've treated you. I should have trusted you more. I just... I thought I'd lost Catherine, and I couldn't bear to lose you or Mother, too."

"Do not worry, Ezio, I knew—I always did. But I certainly was not going to let you boss me around," she smirked right on back, and both siblings laughed loudly.

"Finally, you two came to your senses!" the voice of their mother rang. They turned as she waltzed towards them, Federico right at her side. She'd been sequestered to the back room for safety, being she did not posses the same fighting skills as the rest of her family. "It is about time!"

"I did try to bring this boy to his senses, but he was just as stubborn as his sister," the redhead snickering, pinching her husband's cheek.

"I admit, I made it a bit difficult on purpose. It was fun," Claudia added with an impish smile.

"I'm just glad it's done and over with—or, well, at least you two pretending to argue. We still need to deal with our Borgia problem," Federico added, motioning to the dead soldiers around them.

Maria hummed, "The clean up will be easy enough, and the coin is secured, but it will be difficult to prevent more from coming on our own."

"Not a problem. I'll call for some of recruits to stand guard or blend in here as well. We'll keep them from causing any more trouble. Just be sure to keep a low profile for a while—we don't want to draw any extra attention," Ezio explained, earning nods all around.

"Excellent. Before that, though, I must see to the girls. They were quite upset from the attack," Maria sighed softly and pressed past the group to head outside to the sobbing courtesans.

"I'd certainly not mind the extra help. There's only so much intimidation I can do," Federico chuckled as he leaned down to heft a body up over his shoulder. "Alright. Into the river they go. Uncle, mind giving me a hand?"

"Of course," the older Auditore replied, reaching down to do the same. He didn't follow his nephew right away, pausing to look back at his wife. "Also... I think you have some things to mention about never telling me you were training my sister."

"Whatever do you mean? Oh, alright, I suppose I can oblige. If you must know, it was all her idea. No regrets, though, right, Claudia?" Catherine chuckled, to which the younger woman smirked. Ezio only rolled his eyes with a chuckle before following Federico through the back entryway.

"Not one. And... thank-you, Catherine. I might not have survived without the skills you taught me."

"I'm just glad you're alright, truth be told. With luck, you won't need to kill again, but we can't be too careful now that the Banker is gone."

"So. It is done. One step closer to Cesare," Claudia hummed, face taking on a somber look, which the redhead shared.

"Yes. One step closer. Then, perhaps at last, we Auditore may know peace," the younger woman spoke firmly.

"Well, for a little while. We'll have plenty of work to do still—what with drunken patrons at your door, and plenty of Assassins-to-be to train for me and Ezio," the redhead smirked, and Claudia laughed.

"Yes, I suppose you are right, Sister! We will have peace, but no rest!"

"Not that you mind. You enjoy the work."

The younger woman waited a moment before sighing, "You are right. I enjoy it too much. It helps me to focus... and I admit... I do not think of Ottavio so much when I have all this work to do."

"You miss him a lot still," Catherine smiled sadly, touching her arm.

She smiled sadly back, "Of course. I mourn him every night when my bed is empty... but I still have my children—thank God for that—and I have the girls. I have my Mother still, and I have my brother. And I have you, too, of course. I still have family, for all I miss my love. And that is enough."

"Yeah," the redhead spoke softly, looking to her husband as he returned for another body. He noticed, meeting her gaze, and sent a smile her way. She did the same, and, thinking on her sister-in-law's words once more, chuckled. "Yeah. That's enough."

-O-

August 5, 1503

Roma, Italy

Catherine paced the hallway of the Isola Tiberina, biting her lip. It was late afternoon, and, in her opinion, far too late. Her husband stood by her but kept to himself after previous attempts to assuage her worry had failed—miserably so. Thus, he let her pace, a somewhat wry smile on his face, although he understood her concerns. Their new recruit—nearly a full-on proper Assassin with his abilities—Federico had left in the morning to go to a particular courtyard fountain to meet with an inside contact within the Borgia court to secure a package. Only, the package wasn't just any parcel. It was a young boy—Giovanni Borgia, to be exact. The son of Cesare.

It had been set into motion a week ago, and now it was finally time to meet the woman and child. It was their one chance to do so, too. Cesare was away along with Micheletto and the boys' other attendants. Even Lucrezia was gone, staying in the abode of her latest husband, Alfonso I d'Esta, Duke of Ferrara. It was a wonder how the union had been allowed when her brother wanted her to himself, but that was the least of their concerns. Rather, they seized the opportunity it gave them, and Niccolò's contact was apparently going to be able to take the boy into the city without need for guards. It was the perfect moment, and with Francesco to secure Giovanni—and no doubt the maid—safely, it was the perfect mission. Hopefully.

Still, even with faith in her student's skills, Catherine worried. Anything could go wrong, and she wondered if she should have gone? No, she and Ezio were too noticeable now. They both had wanted posters these days, which meant a papal guard might recognize them. It would only cause trouble, and if Cesare knew the Assassins—the Auditore—had taken his son? She and her husband had brought their own form of hell onto the Borgia when they took their little Mario, but Cesare had the armies of Roma on his side. There was no telling the destruction he would bring on them if he found out. So, they needed the secrecy, and once Giovanni was with them, he would be safe, and Cesare would never know. She'd make sure of it, so his son, too, would no longer suffer.

"Catherine."

The redhead paused in front of Ezio, whom motioned behind her. She spun and held her breath as footsteps echoed through the stone walls. Sure enough, the familiar sight of Francesco emerged from the main entrance, his recruit attire giving him away as theirs—to those that knew, of course. His hood was down and a smile on his face. To his right was another familiar face, though not one she had seen for a long time. Still, she remembered the maid's plump, yet weathered cheeks. She swore a cloak over her usual attire, but it was definitely her. A third guest—a small one—walked behind him, one hand holding onto Francesco's cloak as he gawked at his surroundings. He regained enough composure when they came within a few feet, though only stared while his guide bowed respectfully to his teachers.

"The mission was a success, Mentors. May I introduce, Giovanni Borgia, and his caretaker, Agnese."

"Giovanni," Catherine breathed, and the young boy looked to her. In the next moment, his eyes widened, and he gasped.

"It really is you! Sir Francesco said so, but I was not sure!" he nearly shouted, rushing towards her to embrace her legs.

"Yes, it's me, Giovanni. I'm so happy to see you! I'm so glad you're alright!" she laughed, kneeling down to hug the boy proper. She kept her hands on his arms as he looked at him, noting how he'd changed quite a bit in a few years. He looked older—and tired, too. He had not lived well with the Borgias, she was certain. She feared what else she might find. "I admit... I'm relieved you sent the note. You were very brave to do so, you know."

"I am sad to leave Auntie... but... I am scared to be there. Micheletto is a bad man.... And I missed my brother. I wanted to see him and make sure he is okay," he explained, though suddenly looked down, almost nervously... "He... he is... okay?"

"Yes, he is doing very well. We'll go see him after you meet someone first," she chuckled and stood up to motion the boy to her husband. Ezio grinned as he came closer and crouched down so they were at eye level. The young boy met his gaze shyly, perhaps having been told stories.

The Auditore kept his voice soft, "Hello, Giovani. I am Ezio Auditore... I have heard many things about you from my wife here. She says you protected my son."

The young boy glanced up, then down, "I-I did... but... Papa and Micheletto... they... said you tried to kill them and Grandfather."

"Ah... I won't lie to you, little one. I did. Your Grandfather wronged me and many others deeply... I meant to take his life, but I spared him. I believed violence would only breed more, so I let your grandfather go. Then your father attacked my family, too—took my wife to the tower where you met her. And so, I must submit to violence once more to fight him, to protect my own family, and the people of Roma. People like you. I understand if you will hate me for it, though I promise you will be safe here, and welcome as one of us."

"No—no, I will not hate you," Giovanni mumbled, shaking his head, though his expression was sad. "Papa is cruel... Micheletto worse... They had done bad, bad things... But... I will be sad—for Auntie... I think she will be the saddest if you kill Papa. But he is a bad man."

"Well, you don't need to worry about him, anymore. You'll be safe here. Not even your Papa or Micheletto will be able to find you. The Assassins will protect you," the older man replied, squeezing the young boy's arm gently. The young Borgia finally met his gaze proper, waiting a moment, then nodded. He turned to face Catherine as Ezio stood.

"Is my little brother okay? I have missed him."

Catherine chuckled, ignoring her husband's odd look, "He's doing beautifully. He's even up and walking now that he's two years old. I imagine he'll be climbing all over and babbling away, too. Would you like to see him?"

"Yes!"

"Then we'll take you to him—and his older sister. Yes, Mario has a sister. But first," the redhead grinned before turning to face her Assassin in training and the maid. "Thank-you, Francesco. You've earned your Assassin rank. We're honored to have you among us. And you, my friend... I owe you so much more than thanks, but... thank-you. You saved both my son and Giovanni, and... well, you tried to help me as much as you could. If there is anything we can do for you..."

Agnese raised a hand, "I only ask I be allowed to remain by Giovanni's side—especially in this harrowing time. He still has much to learn, and a familiar face would do him well. Besides, I am not much use to Lord Machiavelli with my ruse revealed. I can no longer be seen among the Borgia, so I would rather my services for the Assassins be a bit more direct. Of course, I offer myself to your other children as well."

"Well, we do already have a maid, but... it would be good for Giovanni to have someone like you—if you wish for it?" Ezio inquired of the young man, who nodded. "Then so be it. This place will be your home, too. We are happy to have an ally such as yourself. I'll only be a little sad to bear the bad news to Machiavelli. And as for you, Francesco... You also have my deepest gratitude, and you have earned both your rank—and a day off. Go; see to your wife and enjoy your time off until your induction."

"My thanks, Mentors. My wife sends hers as well," he chuckled with a wink, and sauntered off. Giovanni watched him go, then looked up expectantly at Catherine. He took hold of her hand, squeezing. The redhead smiled back, glanced to her husband who bore the same expression, flicked her gaze to the maid, who was steadfast as ever, and then made for the stairway. She was followed by the others, the young boy at her side, and ventured to the rooms above. Stopping at her daughter and son's shared room, she knocked twice, and entered.

Diana sat with Mario on their bed, a book in her lap. She was doing her best to teach him some words as she told him the tale, but he was still too young to speak most of them properly. He was already keen on names of those around him and a few other important words, but his pronunciation was terrible. Still, he was doing well, and Diana was adamant on teaching him—both wordplay and swordplay. Catherine, of course, had to put a halt on the swordplay, being he was far too young for that, but words were fine. She was just glad he was becoming active and enjoyed the books, even if he didn't fully understand them. It also made for good bonding time, the two siblings together as much as possible when Diana wasn't training.

"Ah—Mama! Papa!" the redheaded young girl called out when she looked up, though scrunched her brow when she saw the others. "Who are they?"

"This woman here is going to be a new maid for you, Agnese. She's a friend of ours and helped me during my mission while I was away. And this," their mother explained, releasing Giovanni's hand to put it on his back, "is Giovanni. He is a new member of our Order—and a new family member."

"It is... my little brother!" he gasped, spotting the now two-year old boy, who had grown quite a bit since he had last seen the babe. Mario looked more like his father, his hair thick and dark, and nose just a little bigger than expected. He had his eyes, too, but even with his growth, Giovanni knew him. The young Borgia couldn't help but rush forward, meaning to embrace him, but found himself waylaid as Diana pushed her book aside and placed herself between them. She carried her stance as she'd been taught in training and even lifted one fist while the other held out a hand.

"Halt! No one comes near by baby brother unless I say so!" she snapped, moving a bit more towards Mario—protectively, Catherine noted. The Lady Auditore looked to her husband, whom was snickering himself.

"Your—Oh. You are... He is my baby brother as well, and I swore to protect him—even when he was rescued!"

"Diana," the redheaded woman called out, though her daughter never wavered. Only eleven years old, and she was already a formidable warrior. "When the bad men—our enemy—had Mario, Giovanni swore to protect him and took him in as his brother. It may not be by blood... but he is a brother still."

"So... like the others—Brother and Sisters?" she inquired back, scrunching her nose.

Ezio chuckled, "Yes, much the same. He wished to protect Mario, too."

"Hmm... very well," the young girl mused, loosening her stance, but folded her arms over her chest. "But know I'm his main protector! Mama and Papa are training me, and soon I'll be a full-fledged Assassin as well!"

"Really?" Giovanni gasped as he came forward.

Diana smirked, lifting her head high, "Yep! Mama says I can start using a blade soon! I'm going to train Mario, too, but he is too small still. So, until then I will keep him safe! But you can see him—because you'll protect him, too, right? You promise?"

"Of course! I protected him from Papa and Micheletto. I will do so now," he nodded firmly, and at last turned to the young Mario. The child tilted his heart curiously at Giovanni, though seemed to have some recognition. He was normally a bit shy to new people, but he smiled and giggled at the young boy. Giovanni took it as a sign to embrace him, laughing with delight himself. "It is good to see you, little brother! I am so glad you are well! I have missed you so much!"

"Hmm... Okay. I'll look out for you, too," Diana hummed, earning a perplexed look from