Ezio did not sleep.
He sat on the edge of his narrow bed, staring at his reflection in the cracked mirror while the Red Code hummed quietly inside his skull. It wasn't loud. It wasn't painful.
It was waiting.
The palace was silent, but Ezio knew better now. Silence here wasn't peace. It was predators holding their breath.
A ripple moved through the air.
Casanova appeared first, stepping out of a fold in space like he had simply decided to exist there. He looked immaculate, silk robes falling perfectly, smile calm and dangerous.
Lucifer followed a heartbeat later, perched lazily on the windowframe like a crow that had learned how to laugh.
"Kid looks terrible," Lucifer said. "You need more sleep, Prince of Nothing."
Ezio scowled. "You don't sleep."
Lucifer shrugged. "True. But I also don't cry in bed at night."
Casanova gave Ezio a gentle look. "Pain makes you human. We'll fix that."
Ezio stiffened. "Fix?"
"Shape," Casanova corrected. "Pain is clay. Desire is the mold."
Lucifer snapped his fingers. The room changed.
The cracked walls dissolved into a wide chamber lined with mirrors, velvet drapes, and golden lanterns. It smelled faintly of perfume and old secrets.
"Lesson one," Casanova said, walking slowly around Ezio. "People do not fall in love with who you are. They fall in love with how you make them feel."
Ezio frowned. "That sounds like lying."
Casanova smiled. "All truth is selective."
Lucifer grinned. "See? I told you I like this guy."
Casanova stopped in front of Ezio. "Close your eyes."
Ezio hesitated, then did.
"Now imagine someone you want," Casanova said softly. "Not just their face. Their warmth. Their attention. The way they look at you when you matter."
Ezio's chest tightened. His old girlfriend flickered in his mind, the way she used to smile before she stopped believing in him.
The Red Code stirred.
Casanova's voice dropped. "Feel that ache? That hunger?"
Ezio nodded.
"That is lust," Casanova said. "Not for bodies. For validation."
Lucifer leaned close. "And people will do anything to feel chosen."
Ezio opened his eyes.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked.
Casanova's smile sharpened. "We're going to give you your first hunt."
Lucifer clapped. "Oh, this one's juicy."
Casanova waved his hand and an image formed in the air: a young woman dressed in gold and emerald silk, standing in a grand market hall surrounded by servants.
"This is Lady Mirielle," Casanova said. "A rising star in Machiavelli's Golden Citadel."
Ezio studied her. She was beautiful in a composed, distant way. Rich.
"She controls trade routes and investment houses," Casanova continued. "And more importantly… she is lonely."
Lucifer chuckled. "A rich girl with daddy issues and too much power. My favorite genre."
Ezio swallowed. "You want me to spy on her."
Casanova shook his head. "No."
Lucifer grinned. "We want you to make her love you."
Ezio's pulse jumped. "That's—"
"Cruel?" Casanova finished gently. "Yes."
"Effective?" Lucifer added. "Very."
Ezio hesitated. "What if she gets hurt?"
Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "Everyone gets hurt. The trick is deciding who gets rich."
Casanova placed a hand on Ezio's shoulder. "This is training. Your brothers rule through armies and money. You will rule through hearts."
Ezio looked at the glowing image of Lady Mirielle.
"And if I fail?"
Lucifer leaned in close. "Then you learn why nobody survives alone."
The Red Code pulsed.
Ezio exhaled slowly.
"Fine," he said. "I'll do it."
Casanova smiled like a king watching a pawn move into danger.
"Excellent," he said. "Let's make a legend."
Ezio stood at the edge of the Grand Exchange, watching gold flow like a river.
Merchants shouted prices. Servants hurried with ledgers. Guards in the colors of the Golden Citadel moved in perfect formation, their eyes always scanning for threats.
At the center of it all stood Lady Mirielle.
She was dressed in emerald and gold, hair tied back with jeweled pins. Everything about her spoke of wealth—controlled, precise, untouchable.
Lonely, Casanova had said.
Ezio took a slow breath and stepped forward.
As he approached, Mirielle was in the middle of dismissing a nervous merchant.
"No," she said coolly. "I want results, not excuses."
The merchant bowed frantically and fled.
Ezio waited a moment.
Then he spoke.
"Cold," he said softly.
Mirielle paused. "Excuse me?"
Ezio smiled faintly. "The way you said that. You sounded cold."
Her eyes narrowed. "And who are you to judge?"
Ezio met her gaze. "Someone who knows what it's like to be surrounded by people who want something from you."
Something flickered behind her eyes.
"Go on," she said.
Ezio took another step closer, careful not to invade her space. "Everyone here sees your money. Your influence. Your name. But none of them see you."
Mirielle studied him. "You speak boldly for someone with no crest."
Ezio inclined his head. "I have no crest. But I have honesty."
Lucifer's voice whispered in his skull, amused. Nice lie, kiddo.
Mirielle crossed her arms. "Honesty is expensive."
"Then consider this a gift," Ezio said. "You don't trust anyone here. You don't have to."
Her lips twitched.
"And why would I trust you?"
Ezio hesitated, just a fraction of a second. Casanova had told him to show vulnerability—but only enough to hook.
"Because," he said quietly, "I'm not worth anything to anyone else."
Mirielle stared.
Then she laughed softly. "That's either very stupid… or very brave."
Ezio smiled. "Usually both."
Mirielle gestured toward a nearby balcony. "Walk with me."
As they moved away from the crowd, Ezio felt the Red Code hum, warm and pleased.
Lucifer whispered again. Careful. You're actually starting to believe your own lies.
Ezio watched Mirielle as she leaned against the railing, the city glittering below.
She looked powerful.
And, somehow…
Fragile.
Ezio realized something then.
This wasn't just a mission anymore.
This was a knife he was learning how to hold.
And someone was going to bleed.