“How hard would it have been to tell him it was a gift you were planning on giving him after court was over?”
“You shouldn’t have taken it,” I repeat stubbornly. “You acted in the wrong first.”
“You really can’t see how your behavior is insulting?” There’s an almost despairing note in his tone. I fight anger with anger, but this sounds different, and it gives me pause. I didn’t do what he’s accusing me ofintentionally,but I see how it could look that way. If my enemy came into our keep and proceeded to read the stars better than Catalina, I’d probably feel the same.
The silence stretches. I don’t know how to reply—because I still think he shouldn’t have taken my tapestry to begin with.
Rumi pinches his nose. “I never dreamed you’d take it upon yourself to—Dios,” he says while pacing. “And while wearing her dress.”
“Whose?”
“The princesa,” he says hoarsely. “It’s her dress.”
Realization dawns. I understand the look of fear I saw in Rumi’s eyes before we entered the throne room. It doesn’t matter if you’re a relative of the king. He can do whatever he wants, kill whoever he wants, in order to solidify his control over Inkasisa. No wonder the healer doesn’t want any undue attention on him.
My defense of Ana in the plaza endangered his life.
“I don’t get to choose what I wear.”
“I know that,” he says. “All your clothing must be hers. It makes sense now. She won’t need anything because she’s to be executed.”
Several things become clear: Rumi isn’t happy about Atoc’s newest decree, and a family member of his will die in the next few weeks.
“She’s your cousin, right?”
He takes a step back in surprise. He’d been pacing farther away from me. “We’re not related by blood. My aunt married into their family but was widowed after only a year. His Majesty has always acknowledged the connection, though.”
“Ah,” I say. “That explains it.”
“What?”
“Why you become a sniveling buffoon in Atoc’s presence.”
“King Atoc,” Rumi corrects me again, his gaze narrowing. “Sniveling buffoon?”
“You’re trying to earn your place at court. And you look ridiculous. Someone ought to tell you. Or doesn’t everyone laughing at your expense get through that thick head of yours?”
His expression hardens like the stone walls of my prison, granite and iron and fire. This is why he cares so much about his image. He’s not really part of the family—they don’t have the same blood. His position in court is a moving current under his feet. One wrong move, and he’ll go under.
His response about the princesa is certainly telling too. He does seem incredibly distressed about her. I thought it was because she’s family, but now I wonder … Is he in love with her? If I ever meet her, I’ll offer my profound sympathies.
“It’s horrible, what he’s doing.” I lean forward, my voice dripping with honey. “Can’t something be done about it?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
The blandness of his tone brings me up short. I note the dangerous alertness in his dark eyes. A warning rings loudly in my head. But for what, I don’t know.
“You seem distraught over her fate,” I say carefully. “You weren’t the only one upset by Atoc’s announcement.”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Dissension in our ranks. Spreading distrust like wildfire in a dying forest. And you meanKingAtoc.”
I smile slowly, because of course I would. He may not be easily rankled, but I’m almost positive there are others who don’t want the princesa to die.
“You wouldn’t understand anyway,” he says curtly. “Being chosen as a sacrifice to Inti is the highest honor anyone could ever receive. Of course it’s sad, but His Radiance picked her out of everyone in Inkasisa. He saw how her beauty and grace would please our god.” His voice drops to a whisper. “She’s the perfect choice. A pure being.”
He swings from despair to adoration in a matter of seconds. His loyalty for his king wins out over his distress for Princesa Tamaya.
“How will they murder her?”
