Souls Through Time (EzioxOC/DesmondxOC)

Chapter 37 - Amelia

The air in the brothel felt heavier after the violence of the encounter, the coppery scent of blood mingling with the heady perfumes that clung to the place. Amelia wiped the back of her hand across her brow, her pulse still racing from the intensity of the fight. Her thoughts were a tangled mess—partly relieved that she'd stopped the killer, partly shaken by how close the danger had come. But she didn't let any of it show as she turned to Sister Teodora and Antonio, her expression set in grim determination.

Sister Teodora stepped forward, her features softening as she inclined her head. "You have our gratitude, Amelia. You've saved another of my girls."

Amelia nodded, offering a tight smile. "Just doing what I had to. He wasn't going to hurt anyone else," she replied, glancing toward the man's body, now being dragged away by Antonio's men. She took a breath, willing her racing heart to slow, even as the adrenaline still buzzed in her veins.

Antonio shook his head, a wry grin on his lips. "Why is it wherever you go, trouble follows?"

Amelia let out a soft, humorless chuckle, running a hand through her hair. "It's a gift, Antonio," she said, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "But we both know there's more to worry about than just a single man with a blade. This city's changed, and not for the better."

Before Antonio could respond, Ezio's voice cut in, serious and focused. "Antonio. I trust you know why I'm here?"

The shift in Ezio's tone drew Amelia's attention back to him. She could see the tension in his posture, the sharpness in his gaze. There was a weight there—something that went beyond their reunion, something that pressed heavily on both of them. She watched as Antonio's easy demeanor slipped away, replaced by a look of understanding.

"I imagine to rid Venice of Marco Barbarigo?" Antonio said, his smile turning grim. "But really, Ezio, we did this once already! And this new Templar Doge is a bigger *culo* (ass) than the last. Nevermind that he NEVER leaves the Palazzo."

Sister Teodora interjected, her voice smooth and confident. "Yes. Except... for tonight. Marco wouldn't dare miss Carnevale."

Ezio's brow furrowed, his curiosity piqued. "How do you know this?"

Teodora's lips curved into a knowing smile. "In fact, he's throwing the biggest party of them all. But getting in won't be so simple. You'll need a golden mask for entry. And before you think about forging one, keep in mind, each mask is numbered."

Amelia's thoughts immediately shifted to strategy, her mind racing with possibilities. It wouldn't be easy, but they had options. She caught Ezio's eye, giving a small nod to signal that she was thinking through a plan of her own.

Teodora continued, glancing between them. "Fortunately for you, I have an idea. Let's see if we can't WIN you a mask."

As they made their way outside, the evening air wrapped around them like a cool shroud, a welcome contrast to the stuffy warmth of the brothel. Amelia took in the sights around her—the vibrant colors of the Carnevale, the laughter and music that filled the air. But beneath the festivities, she felt the tension simmering, a reminder that their enemies lurked even in the shadows of celebration.

Ezio walked beside her, and for a moment, they shared a silence that was almost comfortable. It was strange, this feeling of being both familiar and uncertain around him after so long. She glanced sidelong at him, studying the way he moved through the crowd with a grace that spoke of both a warrior and a man who had been away too long.

Before she could voice the questions that pressed at the back of her mind, Teodora broke the silence. "What is it, my son? You want to ask me something?"