Chapter Text
The dining room was copied straight from Palazzo Auditore. Seeing Haytham Kenway sitting where Giovanni Auditore usually sat made Desmond freeze even when he didn’t mean to.
He felt Altaïr place his other hand over his, warming the metaphorical ice that had stopped his body from moving. He looked at Altaïr with a smile, letting him know quietly that he was fine now.
Hopefully, Altaïr assumed his moment of weakness had been because of nerves and not something else. He couldn’t afford Altaïr thinking that he had baggage.
That kind of weakness should only be triggered once Altaïr was falling in love with him.
To ignore his building worry, he glanced around, immediately clocking the possible exits.
Ezio was sitting on Haytham’s right with Ratonhnhaké:ton sitting on his other side.
Altaïr led Desmond to the empty left side, pulling the chair in front of Ratonhnhaké:ton like a gentleman.
He waited for Desmond to sit before gently pushing it. Once Desmond was settled in, he sat on the chair between Desmond and Haytham.
Desmond was sure that Altaïr’s seat would have a better view of the entire room, making it harder for anyone to ambush him.
The silence was deafening while the servants placed the food on the table.
Had this been the Auditores, Federico would have already talked about the funny things his siblings did, getting a reaction from Ezio and Claudia. Maria would have teased them while Giovanni would have laughed. Petruccio would have asked more questions and the servants would all have smiles on their faces.
Here though…
The only important thing Desmond noticed was that the servants who served their food were all from different time period and they only served the one that came from the same time.
Haytham’s servants never touched food for the others, only Ratonhnhaké:ton’s and Haytham’s.
Ezio’s servants were novices he had recruited back in Roma.
Altaïr’s servants were all from Masyaf and…
They were also serving Desmond.
All of them waited until Haytham drank a spoonful of soup. Only then did his ‘sons’ start to eat as well.
Desmond couldn’t help but hum.
The soup was creamy and tasted like mushroom and chicken with the distinct taste of butter and milk mixed into it.
It was definitely homemade, carrying a taste that his memories did not have at all.
After months of canned food and cup noodles, this delicious soup was definitely heaven.
“Is it that good?”
Desmond hummed as he nodded before realizing that he had instinctively answered Altaïr without any grace that was expected from a noble.
Rebecca would usually ask the same question when Shaun would bring back chocolate. He was the only one that dared to buy something that wasn’t in Lucy’s list and it was always the cheap one so he could buy a lot.
Still, it was a welcomed taste after the neverending rotation of canned goods and cup noodles.
Thanks to that, Desmond would always answer with a hum so he could keep on eating whenever Rebecca asked the same question, knowing that she was teasing him.
Desmond let his cheeks redden and placed the spoon down as he said, “Sorry. I mean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… it’s just… I haven’t tasted such delicious soup before.”
Desmond deliberately kept it vague, letting everyone fill in the blanks. He knew they would immediately remember the fact that he was a noble in name only.
Depending on the setting of this game, Desmond’s ‘commoner’ background should mean he would have never eaten something like this before.
“Then we shall ask the chef to prepare different dishes for you to try.” Haytham said calmly, taking over the conversation before it returned to that awkward silence that Desmond didn’t enjoy a bit.
“That’s a wonderful idea, padre.”
Hearing Ezio call Haytham ‘padre’ made even this delicious soup taste like shit all of a sudden.
“Oh, how about we go to the city, Desmond?” Ezio asked with that carefree smile of his, “There’s this fantastic restaurant that you must try.”
“Do you mean Markos?” Altaïr interrupted.
Desmond appreciated the assist.
Clay’s theory of the harem ending being the true ending still loomed over his head so he wasn’t sure how to interact with anyone right now.
“Si. Markos.” Ezio answered with a nod, “I’m surprised our dear older brother knows of it. You’ve mostly been stuck here in the mansion, I’ve been worried you were preparing to be a hermit.”
Oh, wow.
Only Ezio could sound so concern and cheerful at the same time while using words that could be seen as a dig to someone’s social skills.
Not only that, Ezio himself was trying to imply that Altaïr was not worthy of being the next duke by that hermit comment.
A classic ‘double meaning’ noble talk.
“It’s natural that I know of it. I read every report concerning the duchy. The duke has also given me permission to oversee any proposals.” Altaïr said calmly before asking, “Have you not read Count Lee’s proposal to commercialize Markos?”
Desmond felt like he should have pompoms and just start cheering Altaïr while standing behind him.
This was the kind of conversation they would have never had in real life.
Altaïr’s question was an under the belt jab if Desmond ever saw one.
Altaïr knew that Ezio would not have read such a proposal. Ezio being the playboy type would mean that Haytham Kenway would have deemed him not responsible enough to look over political and economical affairs of the duchy.
Plus, the fact that Altaïr used a lot of words was already a dead giveaway that the man had now engaged in a battle of words with his younger brother.
“Brother! You would agree to such a ridiculous proposal?” Ezio asked indignantly instead of answering Altaïr’s question.
It was an understandable counter.
Deflecting ‘shame’ was normal in noble speak from what Desmond remember.
It was good that this kind of setting remained even after this game took more inspiration from this Rofan genre.
At least, Desmond had an idea how to navigate this kind of conversation.
“Of course not. I rejected that proposal after reading it. My decision and reasoning were included in the daily report I prepare for the duke as well.” Altaïr answered, raising a hand as he turned to face Desmond, “The soup has gone cold. It might upset your stomach if you continue to eat it.”
The servants began to clear the table and Desmond realized that he had been too focused on Altaïr and Ezio’s ‘conversation’ that he had forgotten to finish his soup.
Unlike Ratonhnhaké:ton and Haytham…
“Oh, okay.” Desmond smiled at Altaïr as he shamelessly admitted, “Sorry, I had too much fun listening to you that I forgot to eat.”
Ezio choked on the wine he had been drinking while waiting for the servants to place the next course.
Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at Desmond with an expression of complete disbelief too.
Altaïr glanced at brothers before he smirked at Desmond, “Then it’s my fault. As an apology, shall we eat at Markos tomorrow?”
“I would love that.” Desmond agreed before Ezio could even open his mouth.
Not that it was hard to beat Ezio right now since he was busy trying to cover his coughing.
Ezio had lost that conversation the moment Altaïr turned his attention to Desmond.
Desmond was the bottom of the hierarchy in this dining table, after all.
Not waiting for Ezio to answer meant that Altaïr didn’t care about his little brother’s words anymore. Normally, that meant that Altaïr lost but the flow of the conversation made it clear that Altaïr thought Ezio had no insights worth listening to.
What an asshole.
He even used Desmond to make a point.
The servants served the next course at the same time Haytham finally spoke, “Take that time to show Desmond around as well.”
“Yes, sir. I have an itinerary for tomorrow as well. Would you like me to submit it to you for approval?” Altaïr asked and Desmond almost froze.
The way Altaïr spoke…
His tone and even the words he used…
It felt too similar to how he would speak to Al Mualim that Desmond couldn’t just shake it off as a coincidence.
Desmond assumed that the internal conflict in the duchy was between Altaïr and Ezio.
A typical succession battle between two brothers.
That could still be it.
But Desmond should probably proceed with the premise that Haytham Kenway was not helping either of his older sons.
Hell, Haytham could even be pushing for Ratonhnhaké:ton to be his heir at this point and this was a three-way succession battle.
Altaïr’s faction.
Ezio’s faction.
And Haytham’s faction helping Ratonhnhaké:ton.
Normally, this meant that Ratonhnhaké:ton would have an unfair advantage.
However…
Desmond would guess that Altaïr and Ezio were backed by some of the duchy’s vassals.
Hell, Altaïr had Malik and Kadar. The glossary last time mentioned they were part of the Al Sayf family and were vassals of the duchy.
That meant, at the very least, Altaïr was supported by one vassal.
Now that he thought of it.
Desmond glanced at Ezio.
Ezio had grounds to stand against Altaïr (and Haytham) for one specific reason.
His betrothal to Lucrezia Borgia.
The Borgia family should have a big political standing in this world. It was an obvious conclusion considering their real life counterpart.
That meant that…
Holy shit.
Desmond got it.
Ezio’s route had to include the cancellation of his betrothal to Lucrezia Borgia. That meant his route was the ‘I’ll give up everything to be with you’ plot.
If that was true…
Altaïr’s route wouldn’t be the same.
Otome games rarely used the same plot for different characters.
The few that did usually had enhanced versions that changed the similarities to make them more unique because fans complained.
Desmond glanced at Altaïr.
He assumed Ratonhnhaké:ton’s route would be something like a ‘reconciliation’ plot with Haytham. Haytham’s route would probably be along the lines of ‘sugar da- older lover with secrets’ sprinkled with ‘I don’t care about your past as long as I’m your present and future’ mixed together.
That meant that there was a high chance that Altaïr’s route was going to deal with him becoming worthy of being the next duke.
In other words, he was in direct conflict with all three of them.
Desmond wanted to rub his temple.
Desmond was fucked.
If harem ending was the true ending then he had chosen the route that had the most pitfall in closing off that specific ending.
Then again…
Desmond glanced at Altaïr.
Their eyes met and those golden eyes glimmered like a cat satisfied with the chaos he had inflicted.
Desmond’s own lips curled into a small smile, unable to keep the fondness warming his heart.
Desmond couldn’t help but feel like he was in the right path.
… especially when Altaïr looked at him like this.
“It’s not even the second day and you’re already off falling in love with your mark. Seriously, Seventeen. I leave you alone for an hour and you’re off promising a lifetime before you even see his dick.”
Desmond didn’t bother to defend himself. He knew it was useless anyway since Clay wasn’t entirely wrong.
Well…
Desmond wasn’t falling in love with Altaïr.
This was more of a case of ‘I got your back, bro’ more than anything else.
Yeah.
That was it.
Bromance.
Platonic, non-complicated bromance.
Desmond wanted to snort.
Who was he kidding?
This was, without a doubt, complicated as shit.
Everything was complicated when it concerned Desmond and his ancestors.
A ‘rofan-ticized’ version of them would just be as complicated.
So it was better to just move the conversation along.
“Did you have any problems looking around?” Desmond asked.
Clay let out a sound that sounded like the chick equivalent of a snort before he waved his wing.
A large holographic screen appeared between them, showing an unfinished blueprint of Villa Auditore.
No.
Kenway mansion.
“This place is huge.” Clay commented, “Bigger in the inside is an understatement.”
Clay patted the east wing where there were more details, “This is where we’re situated as far as I can see. The room Ezio provided us was in the west wing. I barely managed to remember the way back.”
Desmond rubbed his chin.
The west wing was barely filled out. The only clear route was the one Desmond took himself.
On the other hand, the east wing wasn’t exactly complete as well.
It was still better than nothing.
“So the dining room was in the center as he expected?” Desmond asked.
“That’s right. It’s not located at the same space as Villa Auditore’s dining room but it’s around the general direction.” Clay explained as he crossed his wings, “I also checked out the direction Connor-”
“Ratonhnhaké:ton.” Desmond corrected instinctively.
“Seventeen, I am soooo going to butcher his name if I even try.” Clay shook his head as he said, “It’s just better for both our sanity-”
Clay paused, earning a raised eyebrow from Desmond.
The chick rolled his eyes before he said, “Anyway. His room is on the central area. Second floor, east hallway.”
“Then Haytham’s room is probably on the west hallway.” Desmond guessed.
“It’s safe to assume that, yeah.” Clay nodded before adding, “It’s not a hard rule but, normally, members of the same family usually have rooms far away from each other. Some stories even have them in separate palaces in the same property.”
God, Desmond would prefer that.
At the same time, he knew that it would be detrimental for him to not have any ‘scenes’ with the other love interests.
He should try to have an amicable relationship with them, whether as acquaintances or friends.
That way, if Altaïr did turn out to not be the canon love interest, it would be easy for him to pivot to the real one.
Easy?
Hah.
Who was Desmond kidding?
There was no way it would be that easy.
The guilt was probably going to kill him before he could even reach the true ending.
Desmond sighed.
He was just going to… not think about that possibility for now.
Altaïr’s character design in this game pointed him in being the canon love interest. The only way he wouldn’t be the love interest was if this game used the plot twist of the canon love interest being a secret character with a route that would only unlock after either clearing all other routes or doing specific steps.
Either of those would hurt Desmond’s brain trying to figure it out so he was going to ignore that.
“What else did you learn about this place, Clay?” Desmond asked, trying to focus on something else.
If things went well, Clay would have heard a gossip or two from the servants that couldn’t see him.
If not, this meant that their theory that the world did not ‘load’ when Desmond wasn’t nearby would be correct instead.
“Oh, Seventeen. You’re gonna love this.”
From the sound of Clay’s voice, Desmond was absolutely going to hate it.
“There’s magic in this world.”
Desmond blinked.
“And no, I’m not sure if it’s actual magic-magic or if it’s Pieces of Eden sort of ‘magic’.” Clay clarified before Desmond could even say anything, “But yeah. This house is protected by magic sigils that can only be removed or changed by a Kenway. Malik was noting down the sigils that needed to be fixed. Said something like ‘Altaïr will handle it later’ so I’m assuming your future husband is still working right now.”
Desmond wasn’t even going to bother to comment on the ‘future husband’ nickname.
Clay was just fucking with him.
“Wait.” Desmond frowned as he asked, “Why would the sigils need to be fixed? Did someone damage them?”
“From what I heard, it’s not damaged. It’s just that the sigils need regular maintenance.” Clay rubbed his temple with one wing as he continued, “Malik didn’t exactly explain anything to the others so I assume everyone knows about it. Or, at the very least, Altaïr’s faction knows about it.”
“Or the people Malik was with did…” Desmond rubbed his chin before he asked, “There’s no glossary for characters, right?”
“Unfortunately. No.” Clay shook his head.
“Can you try to draw them or something? The people Malik was with could be important characters too.”
“Like maybe Altaïr’s special task force? His own personal assassination and espionage squad?”
Desmond blinked before asking dryly, “Is that another trope connected to this ‘Cold Duke of the North’ thing?”
“Every noble family has something similar. I’m sure your otome games had that too.” Clay shrugged before pulling out another holographic screen. He slapped that screen and it flew towards Desmond, “That’s what they look like.”
The screen was definitely not showing Clay’s drawing.
It looked more like one of those traditional CG images that otome games had.
Three men around Altaïr and Malik’s age stood behind Malik, their faces half obscured by their beaked hoods.
The beaked hoods would point on them being Assassins but they were certainly not wearing the robes of a Levantine Assassins.
It was similar though.
Not only that…
Desmond didn’t recognize any of them at all.
One of them wore a simple white robe with a left leather pauldron. His sash was blue instead of red and his left ring finger had been cut off. The simplicity of his outfit seemed to point at him being a novice.
The young man next to him had similar robes but his sash was a darker shade of red and he had metal pauldrons for both of his shoulders. His fingers were entwined in front of him, slightly covering his missing left ring finger.
And the last one…
His outfit was very similar to the man with the blue sash but he had more details in his robes. The most noticeable thing about him was the fact that he had a blue shemagh underneath his beaked hood.
Something about him irked Desmond for some reason.
Desmond just wasn’t sure what it was.
“Also, about the Auditores-”
Whatever Clay was going to say was cut off by a knock.
“Lord Desmond? Are you still awake?” Kadar asked politely instead of just entering.
Desmond knew that Kadar would have noticed the light peeking out of the slight opening underneath the door.
Still, he asked like a polite good boy.
Desmond was truly blessed to have Kadar by his side.
With the way Clay was looking at him, it was clear that his expression showed his appreciation to the sweet pure goodness in this world called Kadar Al-Sayf.
“Yeah. Come in.” Desmond said as he walked towards the door to greet Kadar.
But stopped dead in his tracks when Kadar opened the door and entered with another man tailing after him.
“Sorry for intruding on you when you’re resting, Lord Desmond. Altaïr wanted me to introduce him to you as he will start assisting you tomorrow.” Kadar stepped to the side and the man stepped forward, hands clasped behind as Kadar stated, “He will be joining me as your personal aides.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Lord Desmond.” The man stared at Desmond with his heterochromatic eyes, “My name is Elijah Roberts.”
He bowed as he said, “I will do my best to be of use to you, my lord.”