Wordlessly, Micheletto nods, and moves to sit at the table assigned to him. Having some sense of direction soothes him, so that when Cesare comes back, Micheletto is less irritable and more pensive, lost in thought. The instant he spots movement in the doorway, however, Micheletto's eyes are on Cesare like a hawk. It seems his instincts are still sharp.

He lets Cesare pour both drinks, picking up his glass and holding it out in front of him for a toast. "To your health, Cesare Borgia," Micheletto comments, before raising the glass to his lips.