A man emerges from the darkened entryway, his face half-hidden in shadow. It takes me a second to place him. He steps closer to the bars, just close enough for the light to catch his face.

That face. I have seen it before. Hair of gold and eyes like flint.

“I know you.”

He inclines his head in a little bow. “Cristobal Téllez-Girón, Marquis of Peñafiel. But my friends simply call me Cristobal.”

“I don’t think we’ll be friends,” I say. “You were at the tavern with Sebastian.”

A mirthless smile stretches across his lips. “Ah, yes. Not your proudest moment, I take it.”

I shrug, trying to look more nonchalant than I feel. “Just business as usual for us. Kiki loves her pints.”

He approaches the bars of the cell and stops just outside of arm’s reach. “They didn’t seem to love her back.” His voice marches across my skin like ants.

I weigh a number of responses before settling on, “What do you want?”

The man tilts his head to the side. The torchlight casts shadows in the hollows of his cheeks, making him look gaunter perhaps than he truly is. His pale eyes blink slowly at me, his lip curling into a knowing smile.

“I’m here to see you. Well, her, really.” He dips his head in Kiki’s direction.

I shake my head, my fingers clutching the bars. I want to make a quip, to say something smart that would likely earn me more than my fair share of lashings from the guard, but there’s something about him that holds my tongue. Something lurking beneath the veneer of civility. All I manage to say is, “Why?”

He pulls his gloves off, finger by finger. Slowly. Deliberately. So slowly and so goddamn deliberately that it makes me want to scream. “Let’s just say I have an interest in your friend’s well-being. The viceroy is a dear family friend, after all.”

“And you’re here out of the goodness of your heart, huh?”

He nods, a small, humorless smile playing at his lips. “I must admit it was as much curiosity as generosity that compelled me to come. When I heard the two of you had been taken into custody, I had to come see for myself.”

“And are we everything you hoped for?” I do sometimes try not to be a smart-ass, but I can’t help myself.