“What time is it?” My voice comes out as scratchy as llama wool.
“Did you forget you had a bed?” Suyana asks, setting down the breakfast tray.
I sniff. The warm and nutty coffee aroma mingles in the air. Is there anything better than the smell of coffee in the morning? She’s also brought fresh loaves of marraqueta, a clay pot filled with whipped mantequilla, and a jar of blackberry mermelada. Sitting up, I rub my eyes as my stomach roars to life.
“You’ll get wrinkles,” she says in a stern tone.
I look at her balefully.
She smiles, shrugging. “It’s what my mother says.”
With a start, I remember my animals. Madre de Luna. What if Suyana saw them? I jump to my feet, startling her. “Sorry. I thought—”
“You’re acting strange. Well, stranger than usual.”
I laugh, and it sounds awkward even to me. “Lack of sleep, I think?”
A tail moves slightly at the corner of my vision. It sticks out from underneath the bed. I jerk my gaze back to Suyana and slowly angle my body, blocking the jaguar from view. They didn’t have time to hide back in their tapestries.
My eyes land on the cape slung over the dresser. I wove throughout the night, until my fingers cramped and my eyelids were heavy. It’s my best work. A blend of white wool and the leftover gold and red thread Juan Carlos brought me. Half Illustrian, half Llacsan. I wove a pattern of the mountain and earth under a twinkling night sky, Luna’s light threaded in each star. Suyana follows my line of sight and gasps. She walks over and gingerly touches the cape.
“I can’t believe you made this.” She holds up the tapestry. “It’s beautiful work for an—”
She breaks off.
I stand up and pour myself a cup of coffee. “For an Illustrian.”
“For an Illustrian,” she agrees. “The cape will suit you very well.”
“It’s not for me,” I say, taking a sip. “It’s for the king. A wedding present.”
I must have said it with a straight enough face because she looks over and smiles. “He’ll be pleased. When will you give him the cape?”
“That depends,” I say slowly. “Is he still at breakfast?”
“They’re setting the table right now.” Her eyes widen. “Absolutely not—you can’t go! It’s for family only and you’ve never been invited.”
“Don’t Llacsans still have that custom of saying you’re welcome with a gift?”
I’d once given my nanny a drawing on her birthday. The next morning, I’d found a crown of flowers on the table in front of my chair. A gift given in thanks for my thoughtfulness. Like the merchant who’d sent a slab of dark chocolate as his thanks.
“It’s good manners,” Suyana explains. “Why do you ask?”
“It was something my nanny taught me,” I say. “Will you help me look presentable? I’ll wear whatever you want me to, and I won’t protest. I won’t even care how many ruffles and ribbons it has.”
A begrudging smile tugs at her mouth, and I know I’ve won her over.
The family dines on the first floor, in the prettiest part of the castillo. I remembered eating in that same room when I came to court with my parents as a child. A long, raw-edged wooden dining table stands in the center of the room. Plenty of windows and tapestries decorate the stone walls. Two guards stand on either side of the double-arched entrance. Even from here, the sounds of utensils scraping dishes and muttered conversation reach my ears. Other than the guards, I haven’t seen anyone on the first floor. As if everyone knows it’s off-limits unless you have an invitation.
The meal is a private affair. I’m the intruder. But I have to present the cape to Atoc in front of other Llacsans to ensure he’ll follow tradition and offer me what I want in return.
A visit with his locked-up sister.
I tuck the carefully folded cape under my arm and smooth my long skirt. Suyana dressed me in a tomato-red ensemble—she insisted it’s my best color—layered with a floral stitched vest that reaches my knees. She swept my hair up into a careless twist, loose curls grazing my cheeks and neck.
It was as if Catalina had dressed me. The condesa was forever modifying my outfits, taking pains with my unruly hair, and dabbing rouge on my lips. Fixing me up to look more like her. When Suyana had finished, I reached over and embraced her, surprising us both. She could get into a lot of trouble for helping me, but she’d taken the risk anyway.
I clear my throat and clutch the cape tighter. I smooth my skirt one more time before walking toward the arched doorways. My hands are clammy, and the castillo suddenly feels too warm and stifling. One of the guards blinks at my approach, casting a confused look toward the other sentry. I swallow hard, but my feet keep moving.
