For a brief moment, good humor crinkled the corners of her eyes. But then suspicion fell over her features, like the shadow of a cloud. “You want something for this, don’t you.”

“I don’t want anything,” I replied, exasperated. “I’m trying to make friends, Zaira. Sometimes friends help each other out, and don’t need anything in return.”

Scoundrel interrupted by stabbing his nose into Zaira’s eye. She sprawled on the grass, laughing, and he sniffed and licked her face until she sprang up and ruffled his shoulders and haunches, making him squirm with delight.

“Friends, eh?” The bright, pure smile she had for Scoundrel packed up into something more guarded as she cast her eyes at me. “That’s an easy word to say when you’re the one holding the prison keys.”

“I know.” I spread my hands, helpless. “I can’t change what’s happened. I don’t have the power to set you free. But given you’re stuck with me, yes. I truly do want to be your friend.”

“Hmph.” Scoundrel rubbed his head up under her chin, and Zaira’s eyes softened—for him, not for me. “I don’t know about friends. It’s not that simple, rich girl. But I’ll remember this.”

I couldn’t tell from her tone if that was a promise or a warning. But looking at the two of them together, I didn’t care.

For the moment, Zaira was happy. I’d take that as a gift from the Graces, whether she liked me any better or not.

“Ardence is on the brink of rebellion, Vaskandar is knocking at the gate, and you use the fabled wealth and influence of house Cornaro to find a dog?” Amusement softened the edges of Marcello’s incredulity as he leaned across the age-scarred table in the Mews dining hall so only I would catch his words.

“Look at her,” I said, “and tell me it wasn’t worth it.”

He glanced across the hall, which was mostly empty at this hour save for a few tables of soldiers grabbing a quick meal, to where Zaira and a couple of girls nearly her age clustered around Scoundrel. They rubbed his proffered belly, chatting and laughing as he gazed up at them adoringly. They’d been there for at least an hour, lavishing affection on the dog and talking animatedly with each other.

“You’re right. She’s interacting with someone without threatening or offending them,” Marcello murmured. “I’m so proud.”

I smothered a laugh. “Come on, now. They look like they’ve been friends for longer than this morning. This can’t be the first time.”

“She’s made a few friends among the Falcons,” Marcello admitted. “She and Terika also flirt outrageously with each other.” He gestured toward one of Zaira’s companions.