Arya was about to respond when the door swung open, and a soldier rushed in. His face was tense, his breathing heavy, as if he had sprinted all the way there.

“Don Ricardo,” the soldier addressed him directly, though his eyes flickered briefly to Arya. “We have a situation. It’s Maria.”

Ricardo exhaled sharply. “What now?”

“She’s refusing food and water. She hasn’t taken a bite since last night. The doctor says if this continues, she won’t last another day.”

Ricardo scoffed. “Then let her starve. Saves us the trouble.”

Arya’s frown deepened. “No. This isn’t Maria being weak. She’s doing this on purpose.”

Ricardo turned to her. “What do...