Zander sat and looked to Theo and Yarrow, who were sharing a significant look, hints of smiles on their faces. They both looked at him at the same time.

“Ace’s uncle, huh?” Zander said quietly.

Yarrow nodded. “Nicolas’s brother. He used to come visit from Aviles, where Nicolas was born, quite often. He would stay for weeks or months at a time. Sometimes he would buy things from our crew to bring back home. He never had children, but he loved Ace like she was his own.”

“I would have mentioned him to you, mate,” Theo said, “but I didn’t think it was relevant at the time. I figured he’d gone home after Ace left and that was that. Apparently, he stayed at Ignacio’s estate for a while, after Ace left. That’s all he said before you two showed up.”

Just then, the door opened, and a man walked through holding a basket of vegetables. He froze upon seeing the three pirates, his hat in his hand and his mouth open, like he had something on the tip of his tongue just before he walked through the door, but now had lost it. He was tall and wiry, with thin dark hair and hazel eyes.

“Hello,” he said tentatively. Hugo approached the group with a platter of ham, cheese, olives, and bread in his hands. He placed it down on the table in front of them and turned to kiss the newcomer on the cheek.

“As I said before, I had reasons to stick around. Friends, this is Cristian. Cristian, this is Theo, Yarrow, and Zander.”

The group exchanged pleasantries, and Hugo took the basket from Cristian to set on the counter before returning. The two of them sat down across from the pirates, and Hugo let out a long sigh.

“You’re just in time,” he told Cristian. “These are Aracely’s friends. Ignacio has her, mi amor.”

Cristian’s face took on a steely tone.

“Then it’s good I’m here,” he said, straightening. He looked at the three of them with new eyes, like he was sizing them up. “I was Lord Sanz’s household manager for 25 years.”

Yarrow snapped their fingers as if they’d solved a puzzle.

“That’s where I know you from!” Theo exclaimed. “You were there when Sanz told us about the Vidals.”

Cristian nodded somberly. “Please, allow me to explain. I first worked for Ignacio’s father. I entered the household when Ignacio was fifteen. I never understood what happened to that boy to make him the way he is. His mother passed when he was young, and his father was stern, but not unkind. Ignacio, however, was a spoiled, selfish young man. He was greedy, manipulative, and cruel. When his father died, I continued in his employ for the sake of the family businesses, which had come to feel, in part, like my own. But I soon found his approach to business… unpalatable.”

Cristian swallowed, glancing at Hugo, and continued.

“After we moved into his current estate, I began making preparations to retire with the money I had saved. I originally come from Madrid, same as Lord Sanz. But I’ve always enjoyed this part of the country and imagined myself settling down here. That was shortly before Ignacio became acquainted with—obsessed with—Chandace and Nicolas.”

“Obsessed?” Zander interjected.

Cristian nodded. “He wanted what they had. Not just their business, or their wealth. He wanted the goodwill they had, the respect, the aura of mystery and danger. He watched how people acted around them and it made him sick with jealousy. He became their friend, but privately, he spoke of them like they were an obstacle to his own greatness. Then he offered marriage to their daughter, and I… well, had I known…” He trailed off.

Hugo took his hand and nodded encouragingly. Cristian continued.

“The day Chandace and Nicolas died, Ignacio sent a carriage to retrieve Aracely for dinner. When the carriage left the estate, it bore two men: the coachman, and one of Ignacio’s personal attendants. When it returned, only the coachman and Aracely came with it. That evening, the Vidal estate burned to the ground with Chandace and Nicolas inside. According to the servants who survived, when the fire started, they were sitting in the loggia with a bottle of wine, given to them by the coachman as a gift from Lord Sanz. It was there that the fire started.”

“Wait,” Theo said, a hand in the air. “The fire started in the loggia?”

“What’s a loggia?” Zander asked.

“A partially enclosed room,” Yarrow answered. “The Vidals’ spanned the length of one side of their house, with large open arches leading to the garden.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Theo said. “There was a goddamn pond just outside the central arch, for god’s sake. How could that kill them? Unless the lightning hit them directly?”

Hugo nodded slowly, leaning forward onto his haunches. “Tell me, Theo. How does a room with six open doors trap two people inside to burn to death?”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” asked Yarrow. “Do you think Ignacio was responsible for the Vidals’ deaths?”

“I didn’t believe it at first,” Cristian said. “After the fire, Ignacio offered Aracely refuge. He also hired the servants from the Vidal household as part of his own staff. He was charming in those days following the fire… doting.”

Cristian shivered, as if the sight of Ignacio doting on someone was akin to watching a kelpie shed its human skin just before it pulled you to the depths.

“He proclaimed they should perform the wedding ceremony sooner than planned, so he could act as Aracely’s protector in the absence of her parents. He feigned concern over her reputation, living in his home without being wed. I still viewed Ignacio as a spoiled little boy, a schoolyard bully—not a killer. A part of me believed he was sincere, and that perhaps taking a wife would temper him. That was my mistake. I now believe, as Hugo said, that Ignacio had something to do with the Vidals’ deaths.”

A shiver ran down Zander’s spine. Yarrow buried their face in their hands with a loud sigh. Theo, his face a mask of cold fury, placed his hand comfortingly on their back.

“Ignacio may have been doting in those first days following the fire, but he was also very controlling,” Cristian continued. “He kept Ace confined to her room most of the time, and when she left, she was under his direct supervision. He wouldn’t allow her to visit her ruined home. He was concerned over her safety, he said. He wouldn’t allow any of the Vidals’ former staff to see or speak to her. The poor girl was… well, she was trapped. Her home burned to the ground, her parents dead, and not a familiar face in sight.”

“Until the wedding,” Hugo said. “When I arrived.”

“Did no one tell you they’d moved the date of the wedding?” Zander asked.

Hugo shook his head. “I suspect Ignacio thought it would be over before I arrived. He wanted to lay claim to Ace’s inheritance before anyone could interfere. But when word reached me of Nicolas and Chandace’s deaths, I left Aviles the same hour. I showed up during the reception to find my Aracely sitting at a banquet table, wearing a wedding dress, tears of grief running down her beautiful face. Her expression when she saw me… it broke my heart. It was relief. But Ignacio’s—it was irritation I saw there. Like I’d interrupted something.

“But it was only a flash across his charming exterior,” Hugo continued. “He welcomed me, calling me family, insisting I stay as long as I needed while I sorted through the ruins of my brother’s life. Unfortunately, the pomp and circumstance of the wedding made it nearly impossible to get Aracely alone. I had but moments with her—to hug her, to hold her—mere moments to share our grief at the loss of our family. I thought we’d have all the days following to grieve together, to celebrate this supposedly happy union. But I only had the chance to tell her I loved her before I was ushered to a seat, given food and wine. Before I knew it, Ignacio was drunkenly announcing his intentions to take his wife to bed, and I was being ushered to a guest room. The next morning, she was gone.”

Hugo wiped his eyes, which were glistening with tears.

“There was something in her eyes when we parted. I didn’t know it then, but it was goodbye.”

“Yet you stayed,” Yarrow said.

Hugo nodded, settling back in his chair. “When it was discovered Aracely had left, Ignacio tore through the house in a rage. He accused me of making her leave. He demanded to go through my things. It was only when Cristian intervened that he left me alone. But Cristian stayed, and he told me where my Aracely was.”

“I was the one who helped her flee,” Cristian explained. “Days before the wedding, I visited her room. When she asked me to get a message to you two”—he gestured to Theo and Yarrow with his chin—“I gave Rosario the note and made up an excuse for her to go into town. But before I did, I read the note. I knew she wouldn’t be able to get past Ignacio’s guards by herself, so the night of the wedding, I waited at the bottom of the stairs until I heard her sneak out, and I showed her how to escape without being noticed.”

“And how was that?” Zander asked.

“There is a small system of tunnels beneath the Sanz estate,” Cristian answered. “They were originally built so servants could move about the estate without being seen. At some point, one of the tunnels was lengthened so that it led beyond the house. The tunnels were no longer used by the time Ignacio was born, and he never knew about them. But the kitchen staff used to use them to sneak out to the storehouses and smoke cogollo.”

“Cristian told me everything he knew,” Hugo said. “I couldn’t go home then. But I couldn’t stay under Ignacio’s roof either. So, Cristian offered to let me stay here, in the house he’d bought.”

“I retired weeks later,” Cristian said. “Together, Hugo and I sorted through the rubble of the Vidals’ home, salvaging what we could. Then we worked on keeping the Vidal estate and all of its businesses out of Ignacio’s hands.”

Hugo exhaled sharply, his face contorting with frustration.

“I beseeched anyone with power I could find, trying to convince them Ignacio had no claim to the estate of a wife who’d abandoned him the night of their wedding. But Ignacio paraded witness after witness to the court who’d attended the wedding, each of them claiming to have knowledge the marriage was consummated.”

“I suspect he also bribed the officials,” Cristian said.

“In either case, we weren’t successful. Ignacio inherited Nicolas’s vineyards, his tobacco trade, and his land. And I never saw Ace again.” Hugo was silent for a moment, sullen. Then he looked to Cristian, and the two smiled tenderly at each other. “Cristian has soothed my aching heart all this time. But it has been difficult, living here in the shadow of Ignacio’s victory.”

Cristian nodded. “Ignacio’s hunger for power and riches has only grown. We are able to live quiet lives here in Almogia, unbothered by him. Despite being so close to the Sanz estate, Ignacio has no reason to spend time here. But word of his activities circulates all the same. And word is, Ignacio’s obsession with the Vidal legacy has spread beyond Spain.”

“That’s what I was coming here to tell you,” Yarrow said, looking at Theo. “Ignacio abandoned the tobacco trade shortly after Chandace and Nicolas’s deaths. He’s become a privateer, and he and his crew—the crew that boarded the Valerian—have been roaming the Mediterranean for years, terrorizing ships, even ransacking villages. He’s becoming a fucking pirate.”