While they spend much of their days together, Ezio tends to do the recon on the castle on his own; sorting through people's rooms and belongings might have been something to do in a pair, but Ezio is far less bothered by the bones of the people left behind watching him as he works. It's quiet work he does as respectfully as he can, glad that the names on the doors are so long-gone that he cannot tell one from another, but he's happy to take on that kind of work if it spares her a little heartache.

He's recently returned from one of those little trips when she starts going through things, and he looks up from where he's unbuckling his boots for the night to see what she's got. Rings. Small enough to not be burdensome to take, more than worth their weight in sentimental value –– but there's no way of knowing.

"Perhaps they forged prettier ones with stones," Ezio suggests. "No need for such simple alternatives."