Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed or any material related to Ubisoft in any way or form.

EDIT: Fixed a major time/plot discrepancy in terms of a character's appearance. For those who've already read the chapter prior to the edit, that character will return eventually. Many thanks to Frigyt for pointing out my mistake.

The first day they returned from pickpocketing, Nerina trembled all over, body shot through with adrenaline and mild shock as she heard the faint jingling of the pouch full of coins hidden in her corset. As Paola had promised, she'd taught both Alessio and her brother the sly sleight of hand and silent withdrawal of coins from loose pockets. With his father gone for the time being and his wound still healing, Gilberto reluctantly followed Paola in teaching the siblings in the courtyard, going even so far as to praise Alessio, who picked up the techniques quickly. In contrast, Nerina hadn't taken well to the flirtatiousness required for her to win over potential victims. Despite her shortcomings, Lucia had helped her, passing Nerina off as one of the "new girls" and claiming she was shy. This of course, had garnered her more than enough unwanted attention, and, coupled with Gilberto's snorts of indignation at her lack of progress, forced Nerina to become more self-conscious and uncomfortable.

As the days passed, Alessio noticed his sister withdrawing into herself, shying away from the men—and occasional woman—who tried to flirt with her, smiling tensely, eyes widening. The more uncomfortable she became, the shorter Gilberto was with her, who generally accompanied the group on their 'outings.' After a month of pickpocketing, and despite Lucia's entreaties, Nerina couldn't bear to don the garb of a courtesan anymore.

"I can't do it anymore, Lucia. I can't stand them leering at me everywhere I go!" The brunette sat on her friend's bed, fisting the coverlet in frustration and disgust.

"Nerina, be reasonable," the blond beseeched. "I know you're uncomfortable, but this is the only way you can blend in with the crowd—" A quiet knock sounded against the door. Lucia bit her lip and got up to answer it, surprised by who stood there.

"Uh—buongiorno, messere," said Lucia, trying to maneuver to hide her friend's state of undress. "Good morning. How may I help you…?" Gilberto looked at the blond from beneath his hood then glanced over her shoulder at Nerina, who scowled and yanked the coverlet to cover the dressing gown she wore, feeling distinctly naked under his piercing gaze. He looked back at the blond.

"I know she's been feeling uncomfortable," he said quietly, handing a bundle of cloth to Lucia. "If it makes her feel better, I've brought her some clothes that the thieves like to wear. Maybe—" he looked back up at Nerina, "it'll help you gain the confidence to pickpocket properly." The woman stared at Gilberto, noting that there was no trace of malice or mockery in his voice. She held his gaze for a moment, before he looked away, nodding silently to Lucia before retreating down the hallway to the stairs. The blond closed the door and turned slowly, eyebrows raised silently in question toward Nerina, who frowned slightly before dropping the coverlet and motioning to bring the bundle over. Untying the rope from the package, she pulled out a man's long-sleeved tunic, vest, hose, trousers, a felt cap, and even a pair of short cloth boots, and laid the items on the bed. Nerina felt momentarily stunned by the display of compassion, considering everything else Gilberto had thrown at her. It was Lucia who voiced the unspoken question.

"Why does he care?" The brunette could only shake her head.

"I don't know."

-.-.-.-

"Why do I care?" Gilberto asked himself as he maneuvered through the sinuous hallways of the bordello. "She's nothing more than a foolish maid who thinks too highly of herself and hates men. And obviously can't pickpocket because she's distracted by her discomfort around men. At least with Emiliana, she—" He stopped himself, pausing in his stride at the top of the stairwell, passing a hand over his eyes as he remembered playful brown eyes framed by even darker hair that fell in waves down creamy shoulders, a pert mouth curved into a crimson smile, before everything was tainted by blood—

"Gilberto." The younger man jerked back to the present as a hand enveloped his shoulder, shaking him awake. He turned to meet the concerned violet eyes of his father. Gilberto inhaled sharply and looked away, catching sight of Paola as she stood at the base of the stairs, a sympathetic expression on her face. La Volpe drew his son back with more insistence.

"We need to talk about that monk." Gilberto watched Paola turn to a group of courtesans who had entered from the kitchen. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, livid with himself for the moment of weakness, weakness he knew Paola knew all too well.

"Sí, padre."

-.-.-.-

It was past sunset by the time they returned to the bordello. Against her initial wishes, Paola had graciously allowed her to wear the clothes Gilberto had brought her when Nerina went out on the streets to pickpocket that day. With Alessio's help, she'd managed to pocket more than double what she normally stole in her courtesan garb. The brunette peered out warily from under the brim of her cap as she guided her companions through the alleyways, breathing a sigh of relief when they finally walked into the latticed courtyard. It had only been a few months since the group of guards had attempted to rape her, and she still felt as uncomfortable walking through the alleys. Yet with the clothes Gilberto had given her, she admittedly felt safer as she traversed the shadowed streets. She reached for the back door of the bordello at the same time as it opened in front of them, revealing a dark-haired man who looked to be near thirty, dressed in rich garments of red and black. Nerina stepped back in surprise, holding her arms out in front of the other women as Alessio came up beside her.

"Niccoló, these are my adopted children, Nerina and Alessio," Paola said as she stepped around the man. "Nerina, Alessio, this is Niccoló Machiavelli." The man raised his eyebrows at Nerina, taking in the contrast between her clothes, her soft, rounded jaw, and flattened chest with slight surprise.

"A woman dressed as a man?" He glanced at Paola.

"Antonio has told me of his own adopted daughter by the name of Rosa who prefers to dress the same," she replied. Machiavelli shook his head.

"I am not saying anything against it. Rather, it seems that such an idea might help the women should anything happen during these… difficult times." He turned to Nerina. "It is easier to move around, sí?" Nerina shrugged and drew back her shoulders, motioning Alessio to relax.

"I prefer not to have men hooting at me as I walk the streets, messere. So in that respect, yes, it is easier to move around." She smiled slightly, eyes glinting mischievously from beneath her lashes. "I must be seen but unseen, sí?" Machiavelli blinked but said nothing, merely nodded once and stepped aside for the women to enter the building. Lucia and the other courtesans ushered Nerina into the kitchen, leaving Paola and Machiavelli by the doorway. Nerina turned and saw Machiavelli's lips move once more, but could not hear his words or Paola's reply. The Courtesan guild mistress bade him goodnight and shut the door, turning to the three women.

"Sometimes I wonder why you don't want to wear the courtesan's dress, especially if you can make a man like Niccoló Machiavelli think twice about you," she said to Nerina as she set about helping Annetta and another of the maids make tea. The younger woman frowned in confusion.

"Machiavelli?"

"He is one of our more powerful allies within the Assassin ranks," Annetta explained. "He is part of the Florentine Republic and a scrittore. A writer. He's one man who doesn't like to fool around, especially with business. However, from loose tongues, precious information may be bought at any price, so be careful of those you speak with." It wasn't a harsh rebuke for her free-tongued error, but Nerina hung her head anyway.

"Mi dispiace, Annetta, Paola." The woman patted her shoulder.

"You'll learn cara," Annetta replied. Lucia spoke up.

"What was it that he was here for, Madonna?" she asked. Paola shook her head slowly, brows furrowing deeply.

"Something is going to happen, and it's going to happen soon," she murmured quietly. "All we can do now is stay vigilant."

-.-.-.-

From then on, the evening passed by uneventfully, and after the last customer had stumbled, tipsy and satiated, out the front door of the bordello, Nerina breathed a sigh of relief and immediately retired to the room she now shared with Lucia, not having to do the cleanup shift that day. The blond was there in her nightgown, lying on her bed, holding an open book. Ilario was there as well, and he immediately jumped up and excused himself from their presence as Nerina entered the room. She cast Lucia a sly smile, to which the blond blushed and threw a pillow at her. Nerina only giggled and sat on the bed, pulling the thong from her braided hair and undoing the twined strands. Lucia sat up and closed her book, rising as she helped undo the braid, gesturing to the tub full of hot water in the corner of the room.

"I thought you might need it," she said, smiling. Nerina returned the smile gratefully and began to strip off her grime-caked clothes.

-.-.-.-

Half an hour later, Lucia and Nerina were sitting comfortably on the blonde's bed, chatting quietly about the elusive 'man in white' the city had begun to speak about in hushed whispers, praying he would return to liberate the city before it came into the hands of Savonarola.

"You know, I heard a few of the girls talking—that some years ago, when the assassino first visited the bordello…" Lucia began to giggle behind her fan, eyes taking on a dreamy look. "I heard that in those few weeks he spent here, he was quite a man…" Nerina shuddered and shook her head vehemently.

"Men are disgusting pigs, Lucia," the brunette spat out. "I would never wish to love one, much less lie with one. The only man I love and cherish is my brother." Lucia sighed, exasperated, and frowned slightly at Nerina.

"Does that mean Ilario is a disgusting pig? As I recall, he's treated you with nothing but respect since Paola brought you here." Nerina blanched and whipped around, expression apologetic.

"Lucia, Ilario is different," she said. "He's been like an older brother, or an uncle to Alessio and I…"

"That's beside the point," she replied, waving Nerina's comment off. "Cara, you must learn to accept that the act of love is not just one used in a business such as this. Paola has taken each of us off the streets, educated us where no one else would, and kept us from starving, and so we all owe her," she said, taking the brunette's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "We've all been given a choice, Nerina, and there is no shame in not desiring to become a courtesan. I became one because it was my choice, just as you made yours to become a dancer and maid here. Just know that one day there may be a man in your life who will allow you to experience the beauty of making love."

"That day will never come," Nerina frowned. "I am not beautiful. Why would any man want me if I am not beautiful?" Lucia rolled her eyes and snapped her fan shut on top of Nerina's head in reprimand. The brunette shrieked at the sudden blow, but Lucia was already speaking once more.

"Then what were all those furtive, longing glances at you for whilst we were pickpocketing?" she asked. "Think what you like, Nerina, but the truth remains that you are a gorgeous young woman. Besides, not all men like a girl who is all beauty but no brain. You are both beautiful and intelligent, so those men, who truly value a woman's opinion and advice, are the ones to look out for." Lucia tapped her cheek lightly with the fan, a slow, sly smile curling her lips. "You know, I seem to remember the first time La Volpe's son saw you dance… He was staring at you the entire time… And then he comes here to give you some thief's clothes… Hmm, it makes me wonder…" Nerina threw the brush she'd been using to subdue her curly mane straight at Lucia's head, trying to ignore the sudden flush that colored her cheeks. She scowled as the blonde dodged the projectile.

"I think you fail to realize that all of the men who come here do that, Lucia," Nerina muttered, retrieving her brush to continue working on her hair. "Besides, what would I care if he stares at me? That man is nothing more than a conceited pig who thinks himself above everyone else, especially women. How dare he call me weak? I almost wish he hadn't come to save me when he did. Perhaps then I would have been able to show him—"

"Speaking of bravado will get you nowhere, Nerina," Lucia interrupted. "You were terrified as any woman would have been in that situation. You've lost this argument and you know it." Nerina pocketed the brush, biting back a scathing reply and, fuming, got up and stomped to the door, suddenly in need of fresh air.

"I still say he needs to learn that a woman is not weak," Nerina muttered. Lucia rolled her eyes and placed her fan on the bedside table. She blew out the candle and in the darkness that followed, the blonde shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position to settle down and sleep before she spoke.

"Be that as it may, I still think that the both of you could learn something from each other." There was silence for a few minutes, and Lucia thought that Nerina must have left, before an angry whisper came from the doorway.

"I'll burn in hell before I learn something from him." The door clicked shut after the brunette and Lucia shook her head, burying her face under her blankets.

-.-.-.-

As she exited Lucia's bedroom, Nerina saw that the window at the end of the hallway was slightly ajar, and she huffed quietly. She disliked Gilberto's frequent visits to the bordello's upper floors to relay information between the courtesans and thieves in his father's absence to Paola, whose private quarters were just past the corner at the end of the hall. The fact that the insufferable man just insisted on climbing up the outside—to "regain his strength," as he called it—just grated on Nerina's nerves even more. She shivered as she made her way to shut the window, feeling the cold breeze blow down the hall, ears catching the faintest sound of voices coming from Paola's room.

A sudden gust of wind blew the lamps in the hallway out, plunging Nerina into darkness as she shut the window. Unable to find the latch and grumbling to herself, she spun around, reaching out to one side as she blindly felt her way down the hallway, counting the number of doors. She was nearly to the seventh door when a sharp metallic click caught her ear, followed by the swish of a blade, like a pair of scissors folding together… or apart. Nerina whirled around and she could just make out the silhouette of a pale-colored hood drawn over a man's head. He raised his fist and she opened her mouth to scream before a gloved hand slammed over her mouth, throwing her to the floor and sending her into darkness.

-.-.-.-

Gilberto followed his father from Paola's quarters deep in thought. Though he was clearly exhausted, he fought against the yawns that threatened to split his mouth open. La Volpe turned at the sound of his son trying not to drag his feet and smiled good naturedly.

"You ought to get some rest, Gilberto. I'll come for you in the morning." The younger man covered his mouth and nodded through watering eyes.

"Sí, padre," he yawned, looking forward to returning to the Thieves' Guild after the few months of virtual incarceration in the bordello. La Volpe chuckled and gripped his son's shoulder.

"Is it really that bad here? You know, despite your rough beginnings, I'm starting to think you're becoming fond of that girl Nerina—"

"That girl thinks she knows better than I," Gilberto interrupted, not in the mood to argue with his father. "She's a hopeless case when it comes to pickpocketing…"

"Really? That's not what I heard from Paola," La Volpe whispered as they walked down the hallway flanked with brightly-lit lamps. "Apparently, she brought in more than twice the amount she had done while she was dressed as a courtesan, and it's all thanks to you, Gilberto—"

"Padre, can we talk about this later?" the younger man interrupted. "It's late, and I don't want to wake Alessio when I go in. He's got an incredible sense of hearing for someone untrained—"

"Oh, so Alessio is the one you're interested in?" Gilberto nearly blanched, glaring at his father, who gazed back at him with twinkling, teasing eyes.

"I'm kidding, Gilberto. Go get some sleep. I'll be here early to retrieve you." The younger man nodded silently as he made his way down the hallway and down the stairs. La Volpe smiled as his son retreated down the hall, before slipping through the window at the end of the hall and disappearing over the rooftops.

-.-.-.-

Alessio was having a hard time trying to sleep. Whether it was the bruise over his hipbone that he'd sustained from being slammed into a market stall as he ran from a pursuing pickpocket victim or something else, he didn't know. His blue eyes watched as from the window came moonlight filtered through the lattice of the courtyard outside, throwing a pattern of silver diamonds across his and Gilberto's blankets. Alessio felt himself relaxing as he traced the even patterns with his eyes, and was almost asleep when Gilberto suddenly sat up, sniffing the air.

"Do you smell that?" he asked. Alessio frowned groggily and wrinkled his nose.

"No, I don't. What do you—?" The thief got up, opening the door just a crack. Abruptly, the room was flooded with the acrid stench of smoke that made Gilberto stumble back, clamping a hand over his mouth and nose. Alessio leapt out of bed in fright, eyes locked on the flicker of flames swiftly tangling themselves in the wooden lattice just outside the window.

"Dio mio!" he cried, a horrified expression on his face. "The girls—!"

"Alessio, get everyone out of here!" Gilberto shouted, yanking his boots on and throwing the brunette a rag dampened with water from the wash basin at the foot of the bed. His own boots clutched tightly in hand, Alessio stumbled out the door and out into the foyer, where a few of the maids and courtesans had already woken and were fluttering down the stairs like frightened birds with bundles of necessities in their arms. They crowded around Alessio as he surveyed the foyer, catching the distinct odor of smoke. It grew stronger as he approached the main entrance of the bordello, and he leaped back as the wood of the door blackened, allowing a tiny sliver of flame to burn through. There was the sound of breaking glass and a body tumbling over tiled flooring, and Alessio saw La Volpe rush out of the kitchen.

"Don't touch the door!" he cried. He'd seen the flames as he'd made his way back toward the Theives' Guild, and had come racing back to help the courtesans. He looked around at the assembled group of courtesans and maids, mentally going over the numbers in his head. There were still some girls running down the stairs being ushered by Ilario and Annetta, but even they didn't add to the total number of women La Volpe knew Paola had. He froze, realization dawning over.

Paola…

"Everyone into the cellar!" Gilberto cried, emerging from the smoking kitchen dressed identically to his father. The Courtesans immediately flocked toward the tapestry just beside the kitchen doorway, tearing a rug from the ground to reveal a panel of smooth wood with an iron ring. La Volpe helped Alessio yank the door open, noting the short flight of stairs leading down to the network of underground tunnels built specifically as a last resort escape route. The tunnels, La Volpe knew, would lead them away from the bordello, but he wasn't sure whether Ilario or Alessio knew of which way to lead the courtesans to safety.

"Get them moving through the tunnels," he said to the younger men. "Find a way to one of the allied courtesan outposts or the Thieves' Guild and warn them that La Rosa Colta has been compromised." Ilario blinked, trying to shove the cold realization as it came over him.

"And if the tunnels don't lead to the guild or outposts—?"

"Get the girls outside of the burn area," Gilberto interrupted, turning to his father. "Where is Paola?"

"Messere!" The two thieves turned at the sound of a shrill voice, watching as Lucia ran up to them wearing several layers of clothing and carrying a larger bundle of clothes than the other women. Gilberto saw with a slight shock that the thief clothes he'd given Nerina were among them.

"Volpe, Paola cannot unlock the door to her room, the door has been locked from the outside, and Nerina is with her! I tried to break the door, but I couldn't—" Gilberto tore away from them, ignoring his father's ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and disappeared down the second floor corridor. La Volpe called out to the other men hurriedly.

"Don't ask questions now, Ilario, there are lives at stake here. Anywhere safe is fine!" Just then, one of the maids tripped over the hem of her nightgown, and Alessio helped her up. He glanced worriedly at the front door, which was beginning to be engulfed in flames, before looking at his fellow guard.

"Come on, Ilario," he cried. "Let's get them out of here!"

-.-.-.-

Nerina ran at the door for the tenth time, jarring her already-bruised shoulder against the heavy oak, trying in vain to budge the locked door. Paola was frantically trying to open the windows, but doing so only let in more smoke and flames curling up the walls of the bordello.

"Nerina, get back! Let me try the lock pick—ah!" Paola dropped the pick the instant she touched the door handle, the hot metal searing the sensitive skin of her palm. Nerina dropped to the woman's side, fear and desperation evident in her eyes.

"Paola, how can I help you?" she asked. "You need to get out; the Assassins need you more than they need me—"

"No." The woman's interruption was fierce, though despair and pain were also clear on her face. "If we live, we'll both live. If we die, we'll both die." Her breathing starting to falter with the amount of smoke in the room, Nerina stood and angrily kicked at the door near the lock with her slippered feet. She was about to aim a second kick at it, when there came a voice from the other side.

"Get away from the door!" Paola yanked Nerina away by her nightshirt at the same time the heavy oak came crashing inward, pitching a soot-darkened Gilberto headlong onto Paola's bed straight across the room. He leaped up, wincing as his abdominal wound screamed at him, before reaching for the women's sleeves.

"We need to get out of here now," he shouted over the snapping of flames. "The stairwell to the second floor is already beginning to burn, and the foyer is not much better!"

"My girls—"

"They're all already down the tunnels," Gilberto said, pulling them through the wreckage of the doorway. "You're the only ones left." Not about to argue with him, Paola and Nerina turned and ran down the hallway, down the stairs as they dodged the flames, and were just about to descend into the burning foyer when a pair of ceiling beams fell, crashing into the stairwell and cutting Gilberto off from the two women.

"Gilberto!" He coughed, waving Paola's frantic shout off.

"Go! The women need you!" Nerina felt Paola pull on her sleeve, but she jerked away.

"Go, Paola! I'll take care of him!" She pulled away from her foster mother, running up the stairs to where Gilberto struggled to shove one of the burning beams out of his path. Nerina threw her entire weight against it, causing it to budge a few inches, enough for Gilberto to start hauling it out of his way. She backed up and rammed against it again, trying desperately not to think about the burning in her lungs and watering eyes. The beam gave way against her body, narrowly missing Gilberto as he pulled it back and out of the way, but it was too much weight for the stairs to handle, and the thief scrambled to keep himself from falling through to the flaming floor below as the beam plunged through the stairs, nearly taking him with it. His feet scrabbled to find purchase against the smoothness of the wooden support beams below, and Nerina threw herself against the floor, one hand clutching a railing support to steady herself, the other reaching down to grab onto him. Gilberto glared up at her, echoing the words he'd heard her say only hours before.

"Why do you care?" The look in Nerina's eyes was fiercely defiant.

"You saved my life once," she shouted over the roaring flames, "Stronzo or not, I'm not going to have your death on my conscience!" She threw her hand out further toward him for him to grab. Gilberto gritted his teeth at her, gauging the look of terror mixed with determination on her face, the expression so familiar.

Just like Emiliana's.

He took her hand and with strength he was surprised she had, she pulled him up and over the broken boards, turning toward the trapdoor near the kitchen. Gilberto didn't realize she still held his hand until they had the door halfway open, when there was a heart-stopping crack from above, and they saw yet another ceiling beam breaking away from its supports. The beam gave way with a horrific snap, hurtling straight down toward them. In a moment of utter panic, Gilberto shoved Nerina down into the cellar, scrambling to shut the door over the opening. The beam smashed into the door, splintering the wood and throwing them both to the floor, sending them into immediate darkness.

-.-.-.-

After seeing that the courtesans were safe on their way to the Thieves' Guild, La Volpe and Paola hurriedly retraced their steps through the underground network of tunnels. Both of them were worried when neither Gilberto nor Nerina had followed after them, and dreaded that the worst had come to pass. As they rounded the last corner that led from La Rosa Colta, they saw glowing embers and ash seep through the broken wood of the trapdoor, illuminating the silhouette of a pair of unmoving figures lying on the ground. They ran to the prone pair, immediately checking for a pulse. Paola breathed easier when she felt Nerina stir slightly beneath her touch, and she dropped to her knees, lifting and cradling the younger woman in her arms. La Volpe pulled his son's hood back and bent to lift him over his shoulders, when Gilberto shot up, coughing and retching violently. Nerina woke fully then, bent double in Paola's arms with wracking coughs.

"It's all right, cara…" she comforted the younger woman. La Volpe rubbed Gilberto's back until he was done, before pulling him up into a relieved embrace.

"Oh, mio figlio…" Gilberto coughed a few more times as La Volpe patted his back, before turning to Nerina.

"Thank you," he rasped. Nerina blinked at him, confusion and exhaustion written all over her face "For getting me out of that scrape."

"… Nessun problema. No problem." She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "Thank you… for saving mine. Again." Gilberto cracked a weary smile.

"Nessun problema."