His smile at her recognition is wry, deprecating, because the ring is both a pride and a shackle, but he holds up his right hand so she can see the ring more clearly. He could perhaps sell it to feed himself for a year, if anyone cares at all for precious stones in this godforsaken place.

"There is little use for Cardinals here," even if he wouldn't answer her question outright. There is little use in being easily known, either. "Do you hail from England, Victoria, or from this new land I have been told of, America?"