Had Marc been awake, he would have done a double take. Standing before him was Beatriz Silva, the server who Cornay pointed out in the tavern. Had he recognised her, there would have been many uncomfortable questions for both of them.
For some reason, she chose not to wear a mask. It made those dark brown eyes, sunburned skin, and curly, dark hair that much more alluring.
Gone was the plain dress of a peasant. Instead, she wore a fashionable gown for Madrid, and like all the other gowns on display tonight, no expense was spared in its tailoring.
“His king betrayed him,” Beatriz said in flawless Italian.
Gone was the butchered French she used in town. In fact, French was her seventh language and Italian her ninth.
Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
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