Claudia leant forwards again. She had seen her brother troubled, yes. In fact she was less likely to see him without trouble. The horrible jolt of fear settled in her stomach as a silt, heavy with apprehension.
“It is not the enemy, is it?” It was the first thought that came to her head that could require such a dark look.
“Vulnerable, I said.”
“A damsel in distress that just happens to be married?”
At this Ezio laughed, “I think that you could not be further fro the truth.”
“Well then tell me. Do you think that if I finally guess who she is-”
“He,” Ezio interrupted and looked at his fist, missing the safety curtain of his hood to hide his face.
Claudia fell short, and a confusion welled up in her. A male. It just didn't seem to fit. It was incongruous. The idea of her brother being a sodomite seemed forced. Her brother liked women, a rich pasta sauce, riding, the exhilaration of a good fight of fist or sword. But the hard planes of a man? The hair of face and chest? The deep timbre of a male voice? No. It did not fit one little bit.
The silence was heavy, a weight that tugged the organs of Ezio's body to his stomach, devoured by a sudden regret. Perhaps the feelings he felt for Leonardo quite so shamefully would have been better off kept a secret, smothered behind a cowl, a beard, a forced smile.
“You are sure?” She straightened up and pressed her skirts to lie flat again from her waist.
“Sí,” He ran his tongue over his lips to wet them, scraped chapped flesh with his teeth and worried it between incisors.
In the space between speech Ezio watched as a gondola, pushed by a young man, carried an old maid over the river, dirty water lapping at the wood. He almost forgot the dilemma he had faced himself with.
“It is Leonardo,” He finally whispered as his gut calmed and his hands no longer felt weak in their grip. From beside him Claudia nodded. With a tentative hand she patted his shoulder twice and headed back towards the Rosa In Fíore. “Where are you going?” He started from his position and turned to watch the back of of his sister's retreating form.
“I am not the one to whom you need to confess.” She called over her shoulder.
“You do not approve?”
“It is not whether I approve or not, it is whether he does. Be careful. I would not want for my Assassino brother to be sentenced to death for sodomy, and not the countless political assassinations he has carried out.” She opened the door, there was a flash of sound no longer muffled by the wood of a lute and singing, drunken giggles, then silence.
FILL [2.c/?]
Claudia leant forwards again. She had seen her brother troubled, yes. In fact she was less likely to see him without trouble. The horrible jolt of fear settled in her stomach as a silt, heavy with apprehension.
“It is not the enemy, is it?” It was the first thought that came to her head that could require such a dark look.
“Vulnerable, I said.”
“A damsel in distress that just happens to be married?”
At this Ezio laughed, “I think that you could not be further fro the truth.”
“Well then tell me. Do you think that if I finally guess who she is-”
“He,” Ezio interrupted and looked at his fist, missing the safety curtain of his hood to hide his face.
Claudia fell short, and a confusion welled up in her. A male. It just didn't seem to fit. It was incongruous. The idea of her brother being a sodomite seemed forced. Her brother liked women, a rich pasta sauce, riding, the exhilaration of a good fight of fist or sword. But the hard planes of a man? The hair of face and chest? The deep timbre of a male voice? No. It did not fit one little bit.
The silence was heavy, a weight that tugged the organs of Ezio's body to his stomach, devoured by a sudden regret. Perhaps the feelings he felt for Leonardo quite so shamefully would have been better off kept a secret, smothered behind a cowl, a beard, a forced smile.
“You are sure?” She straightened up and pressed her skirts to lie flat again from her waist.
“Sí,” He ran his tongue over his lips to wet them, scraped chapped flesh with his teeth and worried it between incisors.
In the space between speech Ezio watched as a gondola, pushed by a young man, carried an old maid over the river, dirty water lapping at the wood. He almost forgot the dilemma he had faced himself with.
“It is Leonardo,” He finally whispered as his gut calmed and his hands no longer felt weak in their grip. From beside him Claudia nodded. With a tentative hand she patted his shoulder twice and headed back towards the Rosa In Fíore. “Where are you going?” He started from his position and turned to watch the back of of his sister's retreating form.
“I am not the one to whom you need to confess.” She called over her shoulder.
“You do not approve?”
“It is not whether I approve or not, it is whether he does. Be careful. I would not want for my Assassino brother to be sentenced to death for sodomy, and not the countless political assassinations he has carried out.” She opened the door, there was a flash of sound no longer muffled by the wood of a lute and singing, drunken giggles, then silence.