I avert my gaze, buying time to consider what and how much to share. It’s clear there’s bad blood between the princesa and her brother…. Perhaps opening up to her might be useful. Another ally against Atoc, and there’s her connection to El Lobo to consider too.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything! What do you like to do? What are you afraid of?”
“That’s very personal. And specific.”
“Have mercy on me. I’m alone most of the time,” she says coaxingly.
“I like to stab things. Heights really bother me. I need coffee every day, and I’m not that excited about getting married.”
The words are out before I realize what I’ve said.
Everything I mentioned describesme—not Catalina. I forgot that I’m playing a role. But the princesa has a way about her that feels familiar, like walking into a house that is cozy and inviting. It makes me want to relax. Which is dangerous. I can’t afford to slip up again in her presence.
“Considering the groom, it’s not surprising,” she says dryly. “And I love coffee too. Atoc refuses to give me some. I think he’s hoping I’ll sleep all day and not cause any trouble.”
“Doyou cause trouble?”
She looks at me intently. “When the occasion calls for it. How old were you when the revolt happened?’
“Eight,” I say. “I only have one clear memory from that night.”
Princesa Tamaya doesn’t press me for details. Part of me wishes she would, and a larger part wonders why she asked the question at all. Now I want to ask her whatsheremembers from that night. If she remembers the ghosts. If she remembers how many Illustrians died at their hands. If their deaths made her sad … or if she’d celebrated with everyone else.
“Do you remember what your life was like when an Illustrian queen sat on the throne?” I ask.
If she’s surprised by my question, she doesn’t show it. She tilts her head back and shuts her eyes. “I wasn’t allowed to go to school. My parents didn’t have a lot of money. There were more of us back then, and lots of mouths to feed. I remember being hungry.”
“You must have been pleased with the victory.”
She lifts a dainty shoulder. “Was I? We lost my parents, and two brothers. I was the baby of the family and was sent away to live with an aunt. I don’t think even Atoc celebrated that day.”
I avert my gaze and trace a pattern on the pillow with my finger. I’ve never thought about what that day must have been like for the Llacsans. It’s easier to focus on what we lost and what they gained. Beyond that, anything else makes the solid ground I’m standing on wobble. I want to remain standing … not topple over and forget where I came from.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re here, Condesa?”
Her question was inevitable, but I haven’t decided what to tell her. She seems to hold contempt for her brother, but that doesn’t mean I can trust her. The vigilante is one of her loyal friends, and he’s about as trustworthy as a convict’s wink.
Princesa Tamaya leans forward, an impish gleam in her eye. “Or perhaps I canshowyou?”
I blink.
She strides to the handsome wooden loom. Using her foot, she drags the stool over and delicately sits, her knees spread apart. She inhales deeply and pauses for a long moment, as if waiting for inspiration to strike. I drum my fingers on the cushion as the minutes drag. What is she waiting for? I’m wasting my time. The Estrella can’t be hidden here. At last she seems to settle on an idea and then proceeds to warp the loom, readying for a new tapestry.
I get off the couch and stand behind her, peering over her shoulder. Her elegant fingers fly across the loom, from one end to the other, and within minutes the bottom of the tapestry is done. I’ve never seen anyone weave faster than I do, but she’s working the loom as deftly as if it were part of her.
“Recognize her yet?” she murmurs.
I bend and peer closely at the tapestry. I gasp—Madre de Luna.The image is of a girl with long, curling hair, dark eyes and brows. In her hands, she’s holding a shimmering gem encased in a bracelet.
It’smegrasping the Estrella.
Princesa Tamaya slowly pivots on the stool and looks up at me with a curved smile. “Well, well, Condesa. You’re more ambitious than I’ve given you credit for. Looking for the Estrella, are you? Wanting to have your revenge against Llacsans.”
Which isexactlyour plan.
I step away from her. “How—how—”
