Cristobal makes a considering sound low in his throat. “Is he the Baron de Sonza’s son?”

I nod. “That’s what they say.”

“Then I do believe I saw him make his way to the garden. Perhaps he was in need of some fresh air.” His brow furrows. “Though he did seem to be in a terrible rush. Perhaps something was troubling him.”

Odd.

I shove my cup at Santos, splashing a bit on his fancy doublet. With an indignant gasp, he clutches the cup before more can spill.

“Take that. I’m done with it.”

The way the Marquis of I’ve-Already-Forgotten described Alejandro doesn’t quite sit right. He was in a fine enough mood when he arrived. Something must have set him off.

“Thanks,” I say over my shoulder as I turn to find my way to the garden.

“I do hope the boy is well,” Cristobal offers, but I’m already gone, his voice half-lost to the rising instrumental as the musicians pick up some new dance.

The scent of flowers whose names I don’t know fills the air. Gardenias, maybe. Or lilies. Florals were never really my thing. They’re cloying, and they make my nose tingle. I regret coming out here, but I want to find Alejandro. Unfortunately, the garden is a maze.

Not in a poetic sort of way, but in a very real way. There are all sorts of nooks and crannies, every other one I come across occupied by people doing naughty things. Normally, I would find this amusing. But now, it just reminds me of the things I cannot have.

My skirts slither across the ground. I spare a thought for the poor maid who’s going to have to get the dirt out of them. I can never not think about those things. The people who wait on the rich hand and foot are so often invisible to them, but they never are to me.

“Alejandro,” I call out softly. “Where are you?”

From a little alcove in the garden, a man laughs. There’s a woman sitting on his lap, but that doesn’t seem to stop him. “I can be an Alejandro. I can be whoever you want me to be.”

“Oh, get stuffed.” I pick up my skirts and flick a rude gesture at the man. The woman in his lap laughs so hard she nearly topples to the ground.

I follow the twists and turns until I reach an area that spreads out. It is a grove, much like the one at the Sonza estate, but the trees are different. Taller. Stronger. Oaks, perhaps.