Ezio was planning missions when the novice Annetta Abete began to hover near him, fidgeting. She wanted to speak with him, but was too awkward to say so.

"Good evening, little sister," said Ezio. He was busy and tired, but he didn't let his irritation show.

"Good evening, Maestro." She bowed and pressed her hands to her chest, then stood awkwardly before him, too shy to speak.

She was a quiet one, sixteen or seventeen perhaps, with dark curls and worried brown eyes. She said little, kept to herself, and trained extraordinarily hard. Her hard work showed well in her skill and speed - she was advancing fast, and had done some good work in Roma. He had no hesitation summoning her when he needed to. But there was a slump to her shoulders, a hesitation in her demeanour, a certain timidity that held him back from promoting her, much less sending her abroad. He suspected that was the reason for her visit tonight.

"I believe you have come to ask me why you are still Recluta, Annetta," he said with a wry look. "Is that the way of it?"