“Said I’m fine,” Kiki slurs. That last ale must be hitting her hard right about now. And on an empty stomach to boot.

“You are very clearly not fine,” Sebastian quips, sounding for all the world like a prim and proper governess. Where’s the boy who had his friends smash my face in? Hidden away, where Kiki can’t see him. “Come along. I’ll take you home.” He sneers in my direction. “Seeing as how your present company doesn’t seem to have your best interests at heart.”

He moves forward, as if to take Kiki from me. I tighten my hold on her arm, but the second he touches her, she reacts as if her blood hadn’t almost entirely fermented. She whips her coat out of the way to retrieve something from her hip. Steel glints in the warm firelight of the tavern.

Before my brain can even register what’s happening, the barrel of Alejandro’s gun is pressed to Sebastian’s chin. Kiki drew it so fast, I didn’t even see her do it. Sebastian goes very, very still. Kiki’s hand trembles just so slightly as her finger curls around the trigger.

But when she speaks, her voice is clearer than it should be. “You keep your hands off me.”

If I didn’t know any better, I would say that she sounded sober. Maybe it’s her fury, drying the drink right out of her blood, even if only for a scant few moments. I approach her, slowly and deliberately, keeping my steps audible so as not to spook her. The last thing any of us need is for her to pull the trigger because she is surprised. If she’s going to kill the viceroy’s son, I’d rather she did it on purpose.

Sebastian swallows thickly. “Eustaquia.”

The pistol quavers. “Keep my name out of your mouth.”

Sebastian catches my eye over Kiki’s shoulder. I shake my head at him, hoping he understands that to provoke her would mean certain death. For them both, no doubt. There is no way Kiki would survive whatever the viceroy would do to her if she were to slay his oldest son and heir in a fit of pique.

“Kiki,” I say, closer to her now. Close enough that I know she must hear me, even over whatever darkness is roaring through her head. “Let him go.”

“Why?” Her voice is oddly soft. Distant. “Why should he live when better men have died?”

The pistol quivers. Sebastian’s eyes slide toward it, his nostrils flared, breathing hard. But he doesn’t say anything to piss her off.

I suppose he’s smarter than I give him credit for.

With unparalleled care, I reach for Kiki’s hand. The one holding the pistol. Sebastian squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself.