I swallow, trying to keep my temper under control. “I’m not going to defend myself again, Rumi.”
He steps toward me. “I trusted you!”
“I didn’t lie to you!” The poison in the air infects my veins until they run feverishly hot. “Trust me, don’t trust me. I don’t care!” My voice cracks. I’m lying again, and he knows it. “Idon’t know whythe Estrella wasn’t there, but anything could have happened to it. Maybe Atoc could have gotten there first … or—”
My vision hazes. Rumi’s outline becomes fuzzy. I’m not seeing him anymore; instead it’s my mess of a room as Suyana tidied it up. Making the bed. Clearing the floor of discarded wool. Tapestries put in order. There was one that was missing.
“Catalina might have it,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “I weaved a message with the location of the Estrella but decided not to send it. I haven’t seen the owl in my room for days.”
Rumi sags against the table and reaches out to the flat surface to steady himself. His face is slack and pale.
Madre de Luna. I’ve ruined them.
All of them.
I walk to him until I’m inches away. I force myself to keep my hands at my sides. He won’t want me to touch him. “I failed you. But I did not lie to you, Rumi.”
A muscle in his jaw clenches.
The infirmary door slams open, the sound ricocheting within the small room. Four guards rush inside. They grab ahold of my arms and yank me toward the door while Rumi calmly watches, perched as he is on the table, his face blank, blank, blank. I expect him to defend me as they haul me out of the room. I expect him to intervene when they yell at me for disappearing and knocking out the maids.
Rumi does none of these things.
I’m dragged away, and my last glimpse is of him putting another strip of fabric onto his bloody gash of a wound. He’s careful and competent and undisturbed. He doesn’t look in my direction. Not even once.
I’m thrown inside the pigskin-colored room, the door clanging shut. I scramble to search for the owl, flinging aside my other pieces until I’ve reached the end of the pile. My animals retreat from my mad movements, and I can’t blame them.
Only one of them approaches. The owl, which perches on my shoulder. Around its leg is a tied bundle. A rolled-up message meant for me.
My stomach pitches. I slowly untie the ribbon and unfurl the single sheet of paper.
Message Received.
I forgive you.
I slump to the floor and raise a shaking hand to my lips. Catalina thinks I’ve changed my mind. She thinks I’m back on her side, supporting her claim for the throne.
And she’s forgiven me.
I can understand Rumi’s rage. It looks bad. My thoughts rush at me like an angry flash fire clamoring for victims. I can’t drive the look in Rumi’s eyes from my mind. It was hatred, as startling and clear as the water in Lago Yaku. Shame claws up my throat. He thinks I’ve strung him along for my own gain. Played him like an instrument, hurting him as if he meant nothing to me.
Just a job. Part of my act.
But he’s wrong. And I have no way of proving it.
I’ve lost him. I’ve lost Tamaya the throne. I’ve lost the best chance for Inkasisa.
I pull my knees to my chest. This is how Suyana finds me. Curled up on my side, barely able to hold back the flood of tears intent on drowning me. At first she comes in looking annoyed, but her expression loses its hardness when she sees the state I’m in.
“Condesa,” she whispers. She shuts the door behind her and crouches in front of me. “What’s happened?”
Everything hurts—my chest, my arms, my legs. I want to scream until I can’t feel anything anymore, but the room doesn’t feel big enough. Panic climbs higher and higher, like a crashing wave threatening to swallow me whole. “I’ve ruined everything.”
Suyana grips my shoulders. “Condesa—”
“I’m not her!” I blurt out. “I’m her decoy. I’m her friend—I’m not even royal. I’m just a nobody.”
She stares at me with a look I can’t define. But it’s not surprise.
