The bloody stones were swept below for the next match. Giulia sat wrapped in a sable cloak, her bright hair shining above the dark fur like a gold coin, while Lucrezia had tucked a dutiful hand through her husband’s arm but leaned close to Sancha on her other side, whispering. Sancha was ignoring Joffre and casting her eyes at Cesare, but her gaze flickered briefly to me, and I made sure to blow her a kiss. She hissed at me and flounced her attention in the other direction, slapping Joffre’s hand away as he tried to catch her eyes.

Cesare noted her glance at me. “Don’t tell me my brother’s wife has granted you her favors, dwarf?”

Favors? Not really. Sancha of Aragon had greedily run her hands over my body for a little while, savoring its oddities, and had allowed me a little exploration of her luscious one—and then she’d laughed her nasty laugh and shoved me away, just as I’d thought she might. She then got quite peevish when I didn’t curse or groan or grovel for her favors, but merely straightened my doublet, swept her an elaborate bow, and strolled away whistling. What an array of gutter curses to fall from the lips of a king’s daughter! “The Princess of Squillace enjoys variety,” I said blandly.

“She does,” Cesare agreed, unoffended. He did not seem to care one whit that he had shared Sancha with half of Rome including both of his own brothers, but then, he didn’t seem to care one whit about any woman at all except perhaps his sister. Sancha was pouting her lips at him, but he dismissed her from his notice as though she’d been a lapdog wiggling for his attention.

“Your Eminence appears cheerful,” I observed as he stretched in his chair like a lithe-bodied cat. Usually his moods rose no further than a studied neutrality. “What might the cause be? Have the French captured our good Duke of Gandia?”

“That would be cause for a ball, not a bullfight,” Cesare said. “I’ve had word, however, that he has been wounded at Soriano. A very slight wound, but to the face.”

“Tragic when a young man must lose his beauty,” I intoned.

Cesare’s eyes gleamed. “Tragic.”