“Good morning, sir.”

Luis’ hand moved to his rapier out of instinct, your voice startling the man. His gaze fell to your figure, amusement gnawing the depths of his interest at the sight of your simple choice of clothing: a flimsy dress, corset, and a robe.

He nodded his head in greeting, a smirk playing on his features. “Good morning, señorita.”

He planned on running off until you demanded the documents he stole from your father and pulled your sword out, tapping the tip of it to his jaw.