Assassins creed - Understanding

I wouldn't be long. I just needed to go in, and get back out again. Father and his friend had been out for an hour now. That was long enough to know they were far enough away, so they wouldn't be back here in a while. Mother would be out in the garden, speaking to her maids about things I was too young to hear about. I didn't think I was that young. I can understand the way father talks to his companions, and the other children my age cannot. But, in my mother’s way of thinking, 13 is still a young age for a girl to know anything. What was so important that mother had to keep it away from me? She could be talking about the finest lace in all of Venice, for all I know. not that I cared for lace.

Creeping along the staircase to the room in which father’s guest was staying, I quickly glanced along the corridor. There was nobody else there except me. Mr. Bicco, my father’s 'oldest friend' had been staying in the Chaste family home for 3 days now. I don't understand why he was here. Usually it was mother who brought around guests to stay, but I suppose father could have guests over too. It was just unusual.

I pushed the door handle... And it was locked. What was I expecting? Dammit! How was I meant to get in now?

There had to be a key somewhere on the outside. But, knowing my family there would only be one key. That was another thing I didn't understand.. What if the one key got lost?

My only luck of opening the door would be if Mr.Bicco had been nice not to have taken the key with him. I crouched on the floor and checked under the mat. There was nothing as I expected. I slid my hand under the gap beneath the door.. No key there. Frustrated, I got up again, nearly knocking over the table next to me. There was a vase on the table.. Hold on, since when did the Chaste family have vases in the house? Quickly, I pulled my hand inside the brown vase, and sure enough out came a silver key. With a triumphant smile I opened the door and crept inside.

My first impression of the room was pure amusement. The room was pristine, maybe even cleaner than we actually gave it to the man. There was a mahogany desk in the centre of the room, with letter and quills. A cupboard was placed to the left of the room. In each corner of the room were white pillars. The bed was on the right, under the window, which allowed a stream of light to pour in. There was no specks of dust on the floor.. It was too unreal, to perfect.

Back to business.

I took a sigh and walked over to the table. It was the best place to look, usually all evidence would be there.

Father said Mr.Bicco was his oldest friend. I however, thought against that. If they were truly friends, and they truly trust each other, father would not have asked me to 'investigate' his room. But I didn't say anything, I was just happy that father allowed me to do anything.

I expected my answer to be right in front of me, in the piles of paper and envelopes. How wrong I was. There were nothing but letters from Mr.Bicco to other men I did not know of. In these letters, Mr.Bicco sounded as though he had more power than he should. But there was nothing that gave him away to be a bad person..

I don't know how long I spent in that room, on just the table. I grabbed a quill.. I didn't have many of my own, and moved on. I checked under the bed and in the cupboard, under the creaking floor boards and decorated carpet, but there was nothing there. 'Cazzo!' I muttered under my breath. I slumped next to the bed. I so badly wanted to find something in the room, something that would give me evidence to blame Bicco for a cause. There seemed to be nothing here, though, that would be good enough to tell father. My hopes of making him proud of his little girl banished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. In frustration, I banged my head on the wooden frame of the bed. 'Merda, mother will kill me' Finding difficulty standing up, I staggered towards the door. My sense of direction was not so good at that time. The walls were moving around me, and I couldn't even walk straight to the door. Waving my hands around wildly, I found myself in one of the corners of the room, leaning against the pillar. Trying to focus and not panic, I listened to a faint rustling downstairs. They were voices.. Of my father and his friend! 'Merda!' I said louder than I should have. Trying to balance against the pillar and stop the walls from moving, I noticed something on the white paint of the pillar. There was a sign, a logo drawn onto the stand in faint grey. It was so light you could barely see it on the pillar.