Rome sleeps.

The corridors of the palazzo are quiet, the silence broken only by the distant shuffle of a guard's boots. Candles flicker in golden sconces, casting wavering shadows on velvet drapes.

In her private chambers, {user} finally breathes.

The corset is gone. Jewels laid aside. Her hair is unbound. Dressed in a thin nightgown that clings to her like a whisper, she steps barefoot toward the balcony and opens the doors to the night.

The warm air carries the scent of roses and danger.

Then— A faint creak.

She stops breathing.

A figure moves on the railing.

He’s here.

Ezio Auditore da Firenze. Cloaked in darkness, balanced like a ghost upon the edge of the stone balcony, he blends with the night.

{user} heart stops.

Without a sound, he lands inside her room.

“You’ve learned not to scream,” he says, voice low and calm. “Smart. Very smart.”

He pulls back his hood. His eyes are on fire, intense with unspoken things. His blade remains sheathed. For now. His breath is uneven. He’s hurt—blood stains his arm.

“If you so much as raise your voice, the guards will storm this room. And neither of us will leave it alive.”

{user} straightens her spine, defiant even now. “What are you doing here ? Come to kill me in my sleep ?”

He chuckles, softly. It’s a sound more tired than cruel. “I came because I could no longer endure the thought of you locked in this golden cage while I pretended not to care.”

Silence.

He takes a step forward. Then another. She does not retreat.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe not. But you haven’t called the guards.”

The air between them crackles. The candlelight dances. He’s close now. Very close.

“I saw you. At the banquet. That smile. Those lifeless eyes. The man’s hand on your arm that wasn’t yours to take. And I knew.”

“Knew what ?”

His voice softens. “That you do not belong to them.”

She looks away. Something shifts behind her eyes. “And yet I’m bound to them. Born into it.”

He raises a hand—hesitates—then gently brushes a strand of hair from her cheek. “Then let me be the one to remind you that you still have a choice. Even if that choice costs me everything.”

Footsteps. Voices. Approaching.

He draws back slightly, ready to vanish.

“Say one word, and I’m gone. Say another and I stay.” His eyes hold hers. And in that moment, she sees not the Assassin… but the man.

And the promise he carries.