Nothing makes me feel more alive than a good fight. Blood pumps through my veins, so hot and hard I can almost taste it. It all but roars in my ears. But I know that if we don’t return to the villa soon, we’ll regret it later. Twice already this month, a servant has caught us sneaking back in well after we’ve allegedly retired to our beds. I am under no delusions that my bribes can continue to buy their silence. The servants are loyal to one person at the Sonza estate, and it’s not me. My father is a good master, generous and kind. They’ll hold off on ratting us out but only for so long.

“We should head to Esmeralda’s, return the purse, and then head home,” I say. “If we stay out much longer, the rising sun will usher us home.”

Ana pouts at me. “Must we go home so soon?”

I offer her a small smile. “I fear we must.”

Ana stops so abruptly I almost walk into her. I stop, mere inches away.

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you?” Ana’s voice is low enough that only I can hear her. Her words seep into my skin like warm oil.

A drunk stumbles past us, patting what I’m sure are empty pockets. A lack of sobriety is just asking for a pocket to be picked.

From this close, I can see that Ana’s lips are chapped. She has a tendency to worry her bottom lip with her teeth. The urge to smooth that harried skin with my own lips is so strong I almost reel where I stand.

She cocks her head to the side. “Kiki? You all right?”

“What?” How long had I been staring at her in silence like some lovestruck fool?

Before I can try to cover my own idiocy, Ana reaches for me. Her hand is cool against my forehead. It’s a battle with my own baser urges not to lean into her touch. A flush works its way across my skin.

“You feel a bit warm,” Ana observes. “Are you coming down with something?”

Buffoonery, I think, and wisely do not say.

But she’s granted me an out, and I would be a fool not to take it. “Maybe,” I lie. “I think I just need to sleep it off.”

“Well, we can’t have you getting sick before the ball,” Ana says with an insincere flourish. She twirls into a truly abysmal curtsy. She’s capable of a better one—I made sure of it—but she seems to delight in flouting the habits of high society whenever possible.

I groan. “Don’t remind me.”