The urge to drag a hand ‘cross his face was resisted as shadowed gaze turned away from the other, focusing instead on the path beneath the hooves of their horses. Those Gilberto was a member of their Order, it seemed more often than not that he was entirely too much of an interloper, someone who would much rather find place and comfort in the company of others. His involvement with the Order was near nil, providing only scant information when absolutely necessary. It was troubling, but there was little he could do about it, let alone voice concern for.
❝Because I believe Machiavelli is not the man you think he is. He has proven himself to me on more than one occasion, and has not yet given me a reason to doubt him. Your misgivings and thoughts towards him do not extend to me.❞
Then their alliance would be short lived. If Ezio wasn’t going to act on worries from trusted members -- then maybe he wasn’t in the right position to lead their creed. The Horse is stopped, and Gilberto can only really stand and watch as his company trots on ahead. With all that he had done, for helping him with Rodrigo Borgia. He couldn’t listen to him for this single moment? Almost a bitter laugh passes The Fox’s lips, and he doesn’t move from the stilled position. He could head back to the Faction buildings, he could cut all contact.
( Giovanni would be speaking ill of him for turning his back. ) Gilberto listens for a moment, before shaking his head
❝ Then come and find me when you realise what he is. Your father always said that you were stubborn, Ezio. I was so very sure that you wouldn’t be able to see what is right in front of you ❝
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