Pressing a kiss to her temple, I say, “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I’m naked and content.” Kiki pulls the blankets up to her chin as she fills in the empty space I leave as I rise. “Why would I go anywhere?”

I shrug as I pull on my shirt and breeches. “Stranger things have happened. Where are my boots?”

She flings a useless arm in the direction of the entire room. Rolling my eyes, I resign myself to finding them on my own.

One of them is under the bed. The other is across the room, curled up in a corner. Don’t really remember how that happened.

“I’ll be right back,” I say as I tug on my boots. All I get in response is a sleepy little grumble from the mound of blankets that used to be Kiki.

So spoiled. But then, here I am, enabling that.

The noise of the inn overwhelms me the second I step outside of the warm little cocoon Kiki and I created for ourselves.

There is an undeniable skip in my step as I head downstairs. It’s still night, but the party is beginning to slow. Dawn must be pushing at the horizon, but right now, I don’t really care for anything except for the joy bubbling through my whole body and the girl waiting for me upstairs.

“Working up an appetite, are you?” Santiago says, a knowing smile gracing his lips. There’s a small scar on the upper right corner I’d never noticed before. I was probably too drunk to notice or to care, but right now, I am alarmingly, splendidly sober. I have been in this tavern a thousand times but now, it feels new. Everything feels new and fresh and wonderful.

“I have indeed.” I slide a coin across the bar toward Santiago. “Your finest meats and cheeses, please.”

With that, he disappears into the kitchen, hopefully to procure his finest meats and cheeses.

“You deserve no less than the finest. Thank you for saving me.”

I turn to find Rosalita nursing a cup of wine, her arms crossed tightly over her abdomen. The ring of bruises around her wrists stands out starkly, even in the gloomy half-light of the tavern. She’s wearing clothes supplied by Santiago. A pair of breeches and a loose blouse, so different from her normal attire. It makes her look smaller somehow than those ridiculous gowns she always wears.

“Are you all right?” I regret it the moment I say it.

But Rosalita merely shrugs. “No. But I will be.” She cants her head to the side, studying me. “You seem happy.”

Warmth floods me, as intoxicating as any spirit. I smile at her, knowing full well how silly I probably look in that moment. But I don’t care. Because she’s right. “I am.”