Cesare stands when he hears her door open, which would only be right for any lady save a common maid, even then it may be better to play it safe here. It would be difficult to tell anyone's status when all are reduced to the same salary and housing. But she looks the part now, regal and meticulously put together, and so long as she plays the part, he will follow suit.

He sits only after she has. He is himself dressed all in black, though the fine leatherwork may betray how expensive his doublet and his boots are. Then there is the Cardinal's ruby ring on his hand, the only color on his person. He thinks it an insult to his father to remove it without his permission, though the temptation has crossed his mind more than once. Here he can be whoever he wishes to be. Not a Borgia, a different kind of Borgia.

"Cesare. At your service."