Chapter 128 Chapter 128 I'm afraid even if I bring a handful...

"What are you holding onto?" Elio asked. He made a move to pull his hand away, as Giotto had a hold of his Hidden Blade. It would be a joke if he accidentally touched the safety catch. But Giotto quickly caught himself, mumbling a muffled "Sorry," and his fingers slipped down to grasp Elio's palm.

"Elio..." Giotto said dazedly, "Come closer, Elio."

Elio thought it was funny. "Promise you won't kiss me first."

Giotto laughed out loud. "I can only assure you that you should be more careful!"

Elio rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away.

It didn't twitch. Giotto grabbed his hand and gave a sly smile.

This guy's actually playing with me! Elio thought, raising an eyebrow at him as if declaring war. He bent his waist, stretched out his hand, and began to tickle Giotto. Only he and the "old Vongola veterans" who had been with Giotto since the beginning knew how ticklish he was. Sure enough, after a while, Giotto could only smile and beg for mercy.

"Tell me, are you pretending to be drunk?" Elio asked condescendingly.

"Half drunk," Giotto admitted. He climbed to his feet, looking a little dizzy. Elio looked at him suspiciously, but offered his hand. Giotto took his hand again, this time without the joke.

"I'm so glad you're here today, Elio," he said.

"Where else would I be?"

Elio thought it was obvious. But Giotto shook his head, clearly disagreeing. He shook Elio's hand, which, even on this day of celebration, still wore climbing gloves. It was as if Elio hadn't taken them off since some time.

He was too vigilant. He was always cautious, as if the enemy would appear from nowhere.

"What are you playing at?" Elio wondered. He only saw Giotto pinching his fingers.

"To be honest, I have a question for you."

Elio was taken aback. Giotto almost never said such words, especially with such a cautious, observing expression. Giotto knew he had many secrets and never asked about any of them. Elio had grown so used to this that he almost thought Giotto was truly never curious.

"Can I ask?" asked Giotto.

Elio instinctively looked away under his gaze. But he quickly forced himself to look back into Giotto's eyes. "Ask," he said.

Giotto smiled. He squeezed Elio's hand again. "This place... I mean, this idea of ​​us being here, this Italy, do you consider it your home now?"

Elio looked at him, his expression momentarily caught between an expected silence and an unexpected blankness.

"This Vongola," Giotto asked, choosing his words, "this Brotherhood, everything here... are you willing to..."

He spoke slowly and carefully. But Elio suddenly laughed and shook his head. "You are such a fool, Giotto! At this point, you still ask such a question? Have you forgotten who told me to 'stay for me'?"

Giotto held his forehead in embarrassment, "Did I say that?"

That's totally not something he would say!

"You didn't," Elio said. Now it was his turn to squeeze Giotto's palm. "You expressed understanding and gratitude, because I stayed for you and all of you. I don't understand why you ask this question today if you saw it then."

"Ah, yes," murmured Giotto, "that does sound like what I would say. But that was in time of war; time of peace is of course another matter..."

Elio shook his head. He pulled his hand away, but put his arm around Giotto's shoulders and pulled him toward him. Giotto was startled at first, then, with what he thought was understanding, he reached out his hand—he thought Elio was going to hug him—but Elio leaned in, tilted his head, and touched his cheek.

"It's the Italian way, isn't it?" Elio quickly pulled away, grinning. "I may never have said it, but, Giotto, I'm so lucky to have met you here. All of you. So… this is the home for me that I never had."

Giotto was silent for a moment. Then he said solemnly, "If we were to do it the way we Italians do, we would kiss and make a sound."

Elio immediately let go of him. Even through gritted teeth, Elio firmly declared, "Absolutely not!"

But soon, Giotto's hand clapped him hard on the shoulder. They looked at each other and burst into laughter.

Because of this, Elio was in an unusually cheerful mood until he left the room. He had a faint smile on his face as he closed the door. Perhaps it was to give him and the Vongola some space, but when Elio looked around, he didn't see any sign of an assassin.

Even if he turned on his eagle eyes, he couldn't see it.

This was a bit strange. Elio looked around and finally found a glimmer of golden light at the end of the corridor. He walked over, puzzled, and found the golden light flashing outside the window. When Elio was forced to stick his head out and found an eagle feather lying there, he laughed silently.

"What the hell did you do to it?" Elio said.

But he still put the eagle feather away. The window was wide open, and a tree trunk stretched out in front of him like an invitation; Elio climbed out of the window and stepped out along the trunk.

The eagle feather continued to guide him, leading Elio in a long circle. As he left the dense oak tree and jumped down into the straw, he didn't notice the emerald green leaves swirling into his hair. He squatted among the gorse and plucked an eagle feather from a branch. The golden flowers fell on his shoulders. When he finally made a full circle and squatted on the chimney at the top of the roof, Elio looked very embarrassed.

But at the same time, no one could deny that he looked full of life, with a happy glint in his eyes.

"Come out," Elio said from his crouch. "I can see you."

This was the highest point. The assassins, hiding in various places, emerged with smiles on their faces and climbed onto the roof. Elio slid down the chimney and saw them shoving and jostling, as if trying to hide, but also as if pushing Maria to the front. She smiled and pulled out a wreath from behind her back.

"This is for you," Maria said, holding up the wreath. "It expresses the love and gratitude we all feel for you."

"oh!"

Elio was about to take it, but Maria stepped back. "Please listen to me first!"

She winked cleverly. All right. Elio put his hands in his pockets and motioned for her to continue.

"Even before I first met you—even before Luigi and I first met you—we heard about your deeds," Maria said, her face turning serious. "We all agreed then that you were an Assassin of great ability and kindness. But you've proven you're much more than that."

This was actually a formal occasion. The assassins gradually quieted down, looking at Maria and Elio, who were surrounded by them in a semicircle.

"We also agreed at the time that we could try to reach a cooperation with you. But you also proved that you were far more than that. I'm afraid I will never be able to describe how I felt when I saw you appear in 1848 when we were almost desperate!" Maria said, "When you held the mentor's body..."

She choked up a little. Elio also frowned and looked at her with concern.

"...We will always be grateful to you for bringing his body back from the battlefield and bringing him home." Maria wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "We will always be grateful to you for rushing back from the incredibly safe France to come to our Sicily, which was in dire straits at that time!"

"That's what I should do, Maria," Elio said gently.

"That's not true. Everyone knows that," Maria said. "If we didn't thank you for those things, we would be unworthy of both Mr. Virgil's teachings and your kindness! Not to mention that you turned the tide afterward, leading us in resistance and fighting bloody battles... Without your strength, we simply can't imagine what the Brotherhood would be like now!"

Maria clutched the wreath in her hand. It was woven from olive branches and laurel leaves, dotted with tiny golden flowers. She choked again before continuing, "You have given us strength. You have given us hope and light, Elio. You have led us to this day... You have led us to this victory. No one else can know the efforts we Assassins have made in this war, and no one will know yours, but we hope..."

She held up the wreath in her hand. Elio looked at her, his eyes soft. As the assassins watched with bated breath, Elio smiled softly and lowered his head.

Maria crowned him.

The assassins erupted in cheers. They hugged and kissed one another, and some of the braver ones even patted Elio on the shoulder. Seeing that he didn't mind at all, Elio was soon drawn into this sea of ​​joy. It was so long that Elio lost count of how many kisses he had received on the cheek and how many hands he had held.

Maria finally smiled and straightened the crooked wreath for him. "You don't actually know what that game is, do you?"

At Elio's raised eyebrow, she also laughed out loud.

“At first,” she told Elio, “we just wanted to put a leaf in your hair!”

"Ah," Elio finally understood, feeling both amused and helpless, "You really are..."

But at this point, he certainly couldn't bear to remove the wreath. He even carefully adjusted it, finally smiling. The emerald olive branches, symbols of peace and life, were entwined with glossy, glorious laurel leaves, gently tangling in his black hair. Even more glittering were the gorse flowers, the most common and resilient in the Italian countryside. Even for a handful of diamonds, Elio wouldn't trade them.

"You win," Elio said. His tone was full of helplessness, but anyone could tell it was the mentor's connivance.

In the late spring of 1861, Giotto Vongola and Elio were secretly summoned by the new King, Vittorio Emanuele II. In the presence of General Garibaldi and Prime Minister Cavour, the King rose from his throne in Turin and personally conferred upon them the title of Duke and the Order of the Annunciation. He also bestowed upon them other property and land, which I will not elaborate on here.

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Author's Note: Order of the Annunciation: I've researched it and found it was Italy's highest-ranking decoration at the time, similar to the Order of the Garter given to the Frye twins by the UK. It was generally awarded to "royal family members, heads of state, and a very small number of prominent figures of their country," so it's almost impossible to give it to them (). But then again, since Assassin's Creed Syndicate gave it to them, I'll just treat it as artistic manipulation and give it to them too! [Doghead] and titles like the First and Second are basically reserved for monarchs... I'll just treat it as artistic manipulation of the tutor...

ps It feels rare to make Oreo happy for a whole chapter (touch) (touch)