Don Juan chuckled. He picked his fork up and poked gingerly at the meat on his plate as though feeling a bruise, but didn't dig into it just yet. "That's not how I remember it," he said, tone light and airy, almost teasing. He had never realized Gil had lied to his family about his role in the duel before. It was a delightful little morsel to have stumbled upon; tastier than the vol-au-vent promised to be.

He might not have been so cheeky about this had it come up in another context. He didn't have any ill will towards Gilbert Griffith and he did feel at least a little bad for accidentally getting him arrested. It would have cost him nothing to keep this particular secret, if it had been kept five years already. On the other hand, Mr. Not-Gilbert Griffith was being a bit of an ass; Don Juan was looking forward to watching his expression when the news hit.

"Maybe I've got it backwards," he offered, tone openly mirthful now. "I wasn't actually there, after all."

---