(note: Story cover has been updated May 2023 :) New chapter covers will be added slowly too)
Catherine Wolfe didn't know why she was chosen, or if she was at all. She only knew she'd been
pulled through time to help a family involved in a war she'd...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
July 6, 1476
Florence, Italy
Catherine gripped the end of her tunic tightly, knuckles probably white beneath the gloves she'd been given as she practically ripped her borrowed shirt. She figured it was one of Ezio's old ones by the dark color, but she didn't really know. She'd only found a small array of tunics and dresses waiting for her when she woke, and Annetta had not said anything, so she'd chosen the nearest set of pants. Now she was in the familiar and very uncomfortable dark, small space that was Giovanni's office, watching the man reading letters. She swore he knew how nerve-wracking this was for her, especially when he'd approached her so suddenly and brought her here before she got to do anything else after breakfast, saying they "needed to talk".
About what? Had Federico betrayed her and revealed too much? Had she done something wrong? Had she said something she shouldn't have? Was she supposed to wear a dress? But then why let her go so quickly last night? Why let her continue on to his office and not change clothes? Why walk so silently and calmly and sit there and ignore her as he read his letters and made her anguish? Truly, it was a punishment, and she wished nothing more than to run away, but she couldn't. He would catch her, anyways, and running from a man like Giovanni just didn't bode well in any situation that occurred to her.
He let out a deep breath of air, causing her to flinch. He didn't say anything, though, and she really wanted to have her cloak right now, but Annetta had taken it and her other clothes—possibly to wash. She felt naked without it, and while the stupid the stupid thing in her pocket had caused this whole mess, she touched at the Clock. Sometimes she really wished it would work, if only to save her from moments like these or worse ones to come. She didn't dare speak up and get his attention; she was too afraid of what he wanted. Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately, she wasn't sure—he finally put down the letter and looked to her.
"So," he began, leaning back with his hands clasped together on his desk, "I realize it has only been half a day, but... how are you settling in?"
She didn't—couldn't—answer right away. The question was just too casual; too normal. Yet, it was too complex, too. How did someone answer something like that in her situation?
"How... how am I... settling in?" she repeated incredulously.
"Again, I realize it is perhaps too soon, but I thought I might gauge your first impression from all this. I was told you had quite the experience yesterday."
She took a while before she answered, "It... the city is... beautiful, but... this is all so... so strange. I don't know what I'm doing. I mean, just this morning I had to use this—this pot to go to the bathroom and this other maid came in and got it like it was nothing!"
"You mean the chamber pot? You do not use these things where you are from?" Giovanni inquired, raising a brow.
"No, I told you, I'm from the future—about six hundred years! We have—we have...we... I...well, that is, we have... not... chamber pots... we have much better things and lots of other things..."
