She gets up, smoothing out her skirts. They look a little unkempt, given the circumstances: a crumbling old castle is no place for pretty silks and fine notions.

"I would not have you change for any reason, mio Ezio. All that has changed––" she leans over him for a second, to cup his cheek in her hand for a moment "–– is the eld of your face, and the grey of your beard."

Sofia steps away, heading for the door.

"Wait right here, as you would tell me. I'll be back with your dinner in a moment."