The palace did not calm after blood was almost spilled.
It only pretended to.
Ezio sat in a quiet chamber overlooking a battlefield-sized courtyard, Mirielle wrapped in a blanket beside him, still shaken. Guards loyal to Ragnar now stood outside the door instead of Golden Citadel men. That alone said everything.
Lucifer leaned against the window, chewing on an apple he hadn't paid for.
"Well, kiddo," he said lightly, "congratulations. You just started a civil war."
Ezio rubbed his face. "I didn't want any of this."
Lucifer snorted. "No one who changes the world ever does."
A soft knock came.
Before Ezio could answer, the door opened.
Casanova stepped inside, silk robes flowing like liquid shadow. Ragnar followed behind him, towering, silent, carrying the presence of a storm waiting to break.
Mirielle stiffened.
Casanova bowed slightly to her. "My lady. I apologize for the inconvenience. Palace politics are… messy."
Mirielle nodded slowly, unsure what to say.
Casanova's gaze moved to Ezio.
"Little brother," he said warmly, "you have made yourself very expensive."
Ezio swallowed. "She was going to be taken."
"And now she won't be," Casanova replied. "For a while."
Ragnar crossed his arms. "Machiavelli will not forget."
"No," Casanova agreed. "That is why Ezio must stop being weak."
Ezio flinched.
Casanova turned to Ragnar. "I need you to train him."
Ragnar's brow furrowed. "He is soft."
"Exactly," Casanova said. "Break him. I will shape what survives."
Lucifer grinned. Ohhh, now it gets good.
Ragnar studied Ezio for a long moment. His gaze was not cruel—just honest.
"If I train you," Ragnar said, "you will bleed."
Ezio met his eyes. "I already am."
Ragnar nodded once. "Good."
Mirielle reached for Ezio's hand. "Be careful."
Ezio squeezed her fingers. "I will."
Casanova smiled faintly. "You won't."
He turned away. "We begin tonight."
Ragnar's training ground was not a place of elegance.
It was stone, iron, and scars.
Torches burned against black walls. Weapons hung from racks like trophies. The floor was cracked and stained with the memory of countless battles.
Ezio stood barefoot in the center.
Ragnar threw him a wooden staff.
"Pick it up."
Ezio caught it.
"Again," Ragnar said.
Ezio lifted it properly.
Ragnar moved.
Ezio didn't even see the strike.
Pain exploded across his ribs and he was thrown to the ground.
Lucifer laughed. "Ten seconds and he's already airborne. New record."
Ezio coughed, trying to breathe.
Ragnar loomed over him. "Stand."
Ezio struggled up.
Ragnar struck again.
Ezio blocked this time—barely. His arms screamed in protest.
"Again," Ragnar ordered.
The blows came harder, faster. Ezio fell. Got up. Fell again.
Lucifer sat on a weapon rack, cheering like this was sport.
Casanova watched from the shadows, eyes thoughtful.
"His instincts are still assassin," Casanova murmured. "But his body is not."
Ragnar's voice was cold. "Instinct dies. Will survives."
Ezio collapsed to one knee, drenched in sweat and pain.
Ragnar grabbed his collar and hauled him upright.
"Why do you fight?" Ragnar demanded.
Ezio gasped. "To protect… what's mine."
Ragnar's eyes flashed. He threw Ezio to the ground.
"Wrong," Ragnar said. "You fight so no one ever takes from you again."
Ezio lay on the stone, shaking.
Lucifer leaned over him. "See, kiddo? Even the war god gets it."
Later, when Ezio could barely move, Casanova approached.
Ragnar walked away, leaving Ezio broken on the floor.
Casanova knelt beside him.
"Pain teaches the body," Casanova said softly. "But fear teaches the heart."
Ezio looked up weakly.
"You need both," Casanova continued. "You will learn how to fight. I will teach you how to win."
Ezio closed his eyes.
Casanova whispered, "Do you know why Machiavelli fears you now?"
Ezio shook his head.
"Because you made Mirielle choose you," Casanova said. "Power is not armies. It is loyalty."
Lucifer appeared above them. "And you've got a nasty little god-virus making sure loyalty sticks."
Ezio exhaled painfully.
Casanova smiled. "Between Ragnar, Lucifer, and me… you will become something this palace cannot control."
Ezio stared at the ceiling, bruised and burning.
For the first time since Ren died…
He felt like he might survive.
And that scared him even more.
The table was carved from black obsidian.
It floated in a chamber so vast the ceiling could not be seen. Candles burned with cold blue flame, illuminating only the table and the four chairs around it.
Three of those chairs were occupied.
Casanova lounged in one, silk robes draped loosely over him, smiling as if he'd arrived for a dinner party. Ragnar sat across from him, arms folded, eyes sharp and patient like a predator that knew it would be fed soon.
Lucifer sat upside-down in the third chair, feet hooked over the backrest, chewing an apple with obnoxious enthusiasm.
The fourth chair remained empty.
Then the shadows bent.
A man stepped out of them.
Niccolò Machiavelli.
He wore a simple dark coat, perfectly tailored, his eyes calm and unreadable. The kind of calm that came from always knowing how to win.
He took the empty chair without asking.
"Well," Machiavelli said mildly, "it seems the Sixth Prince has become expensive."
Casanova chuckled. "You tried to steal him. I merely reclaimed him."
Machiavelli's gaze slid to Ragnar. "You brought war to a counting house."
Ragnar's voice was flat. "You threatened my brother."
Lucifer clapped slowly. "Oh this is going to be fun."
Machiavelli folded his hands. "Ezio interfered with my investments. Lady Mirielle is one of the Golden Citadel's pillars."
"She is a person," Casanova said softly.
Machiavelli smiled. "Everything that produces value is a person."
Lucifer laughed loudly. "Oh I like him. He's honest."
Casanova's eyes sharpened. "You sent Severin."
Machiavelli nodded. "You killed him."
"Ezio did," Ragnar corrected.
Machiavelli looked mildly intrigued. "Even better."
Silence stretched.
"Tell me," Machiavelli said. "What is he to you?"
Casanova's smile faded just a fraction. "He is potential."
Ragnar growled. "He is blood."
Lucifer grinned. "He's entertainment."
Machiavelli leaned back. "Then let us be clear. The Sixth Prince now sits between our domains. That makes him contested property."
Casanova leaned forward. "Say that again."
Machiavelli's eyes flicked to him. "Property."
The temperature in the room dropped.
Lucifer licked his lips. "Careful, book man. Words like that start wars."
Machiavelli smiled faintly. "Wars are just expensive negotiations."
Ragnar stood. The obsidian floor cracked under his boots. "You will not touch Ezio."
Machiavelli didn't flinch. "I already have."
Casanova's eyes went cold.
"What did you do?" he asked.
Machiavelli's smile widened. "I made him a liability."
Lucifer laughed softly. "Oh, you evil bastard."
Casanova's voice was silk over steel. "You're going to regret that."
Machiavelli rose. "Then let us see whose devil is better."
The shadows swallowed him.
Lucifer hopped down from his chair. "Well, that went well."
Ragnar turned to Casanova. "We need to prepare him."
Casanova nodded slowly. "Yes."
"Because Machiavelli just declared war."