I slip my hand from his.
I rush out of the cavern and race down the hall, my sandals angrily slapping against the stone. I burst out into the warm night air, Luna shining down on me, embracing me as if I were a long-lost child. I stalk toward the steps, barely noticing the call of the moon.
“Catalina.”
I jump a foot and spin wildly at the sound. Manuel steps out from the shadows and walks into the light, his expression calm and controlled. I want to shake him, drop him in a river and wash off that impervious mask.
“I’m astonished you’d wait for me. I thought you’d run.”
Like you did last time, and I didn’t see you again for three years.
“I didn’t want you searching for me at all hours of the night, potentially getting lost or hurt.”
What a reasonable and logical statement. It sits at the back of my throat, nearly choking me. “Well, you have something to say, I’m sure of it.”
“I do,” he says, and jerks his chin away from the corridor entrance. “Take a walk with me.”
“I’m not sure I want to.”
He overturns a rock with the toe of his boot. I frown. Unnecessary gestures don’t fit him. He’s usually controlled, his movements economical. “There are things I have to say.”
“I won’t stop you from saying them.”
We take the flight of stairs down to the bottom level and walk idly on the path, meandering through the different districts. No one is around. It’s just us and the moon and whatever words the stars have carved against the black night. Manuel keeps several feet between us, and it takes everything in me not to yell or cry.
“I did a lot of thinking out here while you were dancing—”
“Of course,” I mutter.
For a moment his eyes flash. Triumph blazes deep in my veins.
“—and I’ve come to a decision.”
I brace myself, and his face softens, only just. Enough to slay me.
“Sonco is interested in you. From what I can tell, and from what others say about him”—he breaks off, swallowing hard—“he’s a good man who will take care of you. You need to give a relationship with him a chance. He’s the ruler of Paititi; you could do worse. I think there is a very real chance he will marry you, but not if I’m around.”
By “worse” he means himself. And the thought makes my blood riot. I stop on the path, my eyes wide in shock. We’re standing right in front of the entrance to the market. All the stalls are closed up, the lids of baskets tied down, the woven mats rolled up, the food stored away. “You are worthy.”
“Not of you.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Catalina.” He folds his arm across his chest.“No.”
“¿Por qué?”
“It’s the wisest move for you to make. I’m honor-bound to do right by you, to respect the title you carry and the position you’ve been groomed for. It can’t be wasted on me.”
“Wasted?”
“You’ll be safe here,” he continues, as if I haven’t spoken. “I thought you were open to the idea of marrying him?”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“Catalina, consider all of your options. What do you want more than anything?”
I don’t hesitate, even as the word surprises me. “You.”
