The castle bothers him. Not knowing what's ahead of them bothers him, and so does the idea that he has no idea what he was doing before this. There's the warm memory of adrenaline coursing through him, but he's not so sure that what his body remember is what was actually happening. If he was up on some sinful errand, who was it for? Who was it with? Where? He could never confuse the rooftops of Firenze for the rooftops of Venice, and yet it is a blur.

Ezio looks at her trying to keep warm and he wishes he had a jacket to throw around her.

"I just came from my room," he tells her. "Perhaps we could go there and put you in something less..."

He gestures vaguely, tracing out the contours of a narrow waist and wider hips, and then he reaches for her again, to keep her warm.

"We are not in any immediate danger. Take a moment, dolcezza. Catch your breath."