Chapter 10

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"You're late." Haytham glanced up at the sound of Tacitus' voice, and they sauntered over to him with a confident stride. "My apologies, I had other matters to attend to," he said sincerely, a hand on his chest.

Tacitus hummed in reply, looking him over. "I'm sure you did," they mumbled. They wandered forward together, and Haytham naturally followed. This was their fourth or fifth meeting together, discussing ideas and strategies.

During their meetings, Haytham would notice the voice slip ups more often, as well as pay more attention to the muscular but slender build Tacitus had. He was paying very close attention to his enemy, someone he was meant to steer clear of - yet here he was.

"For today...I would like to deviate away from the usual talk of business, messere. It is very mentally exhausting," Tacitus suddenly suggested, cutting into his thoughts. At first, Haytham felt frustration, but a small part of him couldn't help but agree, so he remained silent.

"What would you like to speak of, then?" he asked, looking down at them. Tacitus let out a long hum, thinking of a response. "I am comfortable with nothing at all, truth be told. Just...enjoy the day before it is over. I have never taken the time to relax much, as of late," they explained.

They faltered at their sudden confession, glancing up at Haytham for a brief moment, but they continued on as usual. "Don't you think, messere? Especially people in our line of work, there is never any time anymore for...well, anything else besides work - this is like an escape," they continued, their initial shock ebbed away.

Haytham hummed, glancing around at his surroundings - it certainly was a sight worth seeing, and the clear blue sky invited in all of the sun's warmth. "Yes...." was all he managed to say. "It is such a beautiful day today - let us go down to the river," Tacitus decided.

Suddenly, they took off with impeccable speed into the trees, startling Haytham. "W-wait!"

~~~~

"No wonder you were late, you're incredibly slow." Haytham stumbled to a stop when he reached the flowing body of water. He bent over as he panted, his hands on his knees, and he heard Tacitus laugh. "Rusting already, Ser Kenway?" they teased playfully.

He caught his breath for a moment. "Not yet...!" Tacitus laughed again, and Haytham stood back up; "I was not expecting you to run so f- !" he was saying, but froze.

When his gaze landed on Tacitus, his eyes widened in shock at what he saw. Long, flowing, wavy brown hair fell down Tacitus' shoulders, strewn across their lowered hood, and it flapped gently in rhythm with the breeze.

He stood tall, eyeing them carefully. "Your hood seems to have fallen," he pointed out. Tacitus, however, looked unfazed, throwing a dismissive glance behind them at their hair.

"Yes...I am aware." They stood up straight with their head high. "I have decided to offer my services to your cause, but in order for that to happen...there must be transparency between us both."

Haytham's heart leapt into his throat, but he remained impatiently silent. Tacitus reached for their black decorative mask, and Haytham trembled as it was removed.

Sharp cheekbones, an equally sharp jawline, a slender nose and full lips were revealed. The voice that flowed from those lips was smoky, silvery and modulated, sounding nowhere near like the deep, guttural tone from earlier.

Haytham finally realized and understood his unexplained attraction towards the small Assassin, and he stared on with wide eyes. "Francesca Mirabella Auditore - at your service, Ser Kenway."

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