“For killing your brother for you.”

A small silence fell at that. We looked at each other for a while, and then he shrugged into his scarlet robes.

“I always wondered if you knew,” I said.

“Of course I knew!” He looked offended. “I could have made life difficult for you, little lion man, had I wanted you caught. I could have pointed out to the Holy Father that it was your ‘mishap’ with the guards that saw Juan off to the Piazza degli Ebrei without his usual squires. You never made such a mistake before, and you only did it that night to get my brother alone.”

“I did you a favor,” I said. “The Duke of Gandia was a mad dog. I saved you the trouble of putting him down yourself.”

“Yes, that business with the whores really was getting out of hand,” Cesare agreed. “That girl who was killed with my dagger—who but Juan would steal it to smear my name? The whole scene had his clumsy paw-marks all over it.”

“And you still allowed him to get away with it?”

“I did more than allow him. I covered for him.” Cesare smiled. “The girl who was killed while Juan was away in Spain? You must have wondered about her. Michelotto killed her, on my orders.”

I gave a slow swallow, easing down the lump in my throat. The last piece of the puzzle left unsolved. “Why?”

“You were asking too many questions. You had your eye on me, but if the drought of dead girls had gone on much longer, you’d have started thinking about Juan, off in Spain. I had Michelotto execute a girl, in roughly the same style, when both my brother and I could be accounted for.”

“Why?” I asked again. “A dwarf asking questions; what could that possibly mean to you?”

“I protect my family. Even the ones I hate.”

“So why didn’t you have me killed, when you knew I’d done away with your brother?”

Cesare declined to answer, tilting his head at me. “Tell me something, little lion man. Will you try to kill me for the girl I ordered executed, as you killed my brother for all the others?”

“No.” The word came from me before I could even consider it. “I’m done with vengeance.”

But I would have Masses said for the girl’s soul. Killed not for Juan Borgia’s dark lusts, but because a dwarf had asked questions—and for that, I would always grieve.