Esmeralda groaned. “Do we really need to talk about it?”
“Yes,” her two friends said again.
This brought on a wave of giggles.
Pilar’s head popped out of the wagon. “What’s so funny?”
Pilar Sánchez looked nearly identical to her sister Camila, though she was eleven months older. She was tall and lanky but with muscles that showed themselves whenever she had need for them. And Pilar, like her sister, wore her black hair in two plaits that she pinned up like a crown. There was no denying her queenly beauty.
The sisters grew up on a massive farm in El Sueco. Their unnatural strength was built through years of exertion like the rest of their family. But because half of their uncles, aunts, and cousins had been called to war, the Sánchezes had fallen on hard times. The girls came to the carnival to earn enough coin to send home to their grandparents and keep their home afloat. But once Pilar got a taste of fame, her priorities shifted. She wanted to be a star not a ranch hand.
She hopped onto the grass and lifted one of the marble columns she and Camila used to show off their strength during their act. The post was weighty. Esmeralda could only lift it inches from the ground with both arms. But Pilar rested it on one shoulder and walked up the step to her wagon with ease. She placed the column down next to the others that had already been stored.
“We were just talking about Esmeralda and her beau,” Gabriel said.
Pilar’s pretty face knotted in surprise. “You have a beau?”
“He is not my anything.” Not anymore.
Once, Ignacio Olivera had been her everything. He was the one person in the entire world she loved with every fiber of her being. Her veins and bones and organs buzzed whenever she so much as thought of him.
In fact, they were doing it now. She grew feverish when she thought of those long lashes curled over his light brown eyes. Of the last night they’d spent together. The warmth of his bare skin against hers.
Stop it, she hissed in her mind.
But her body didn’t listen. Seeing Ignacio for the first time since he left her for the Blackbirds had brought back a thousand sharp memoriesandthe feelings that came with them.
She remembered the way he smelled. The way her head fit perfectly against his chest. The shy smile he’d give whenever they saw each other after being apart for long. Almost every good memory she had of her life before the carnival involved Ignacio in some way.
They were so young when they found each other, just ten years old. The first time she’d seen him in the daylight was when she caught him watching her from his bedroom window.
She had been in the courtyard of the comandante’s estate, waiting for Comandante Olivera and his general to finish whispering to one another so they could tell her what to do. She didn’t mind being the comandante’s errand runner so much. Having a warm bed to sleep in and food in her belly was rather nice. Plus, someone kept leaving her little treats on her pillow and extra socks in her dresser.
Growing bored while waiting on the comandante, she tried to crease the parchment in her hand into the shape of a bird. She had seen a few paper doves left about the estate and wanted to try, but she couldn’t get it right. Frustrated, she let her eyes roam over the grounds and spotted him, the gangly boy who had been responsible for her having to work for the comandante in the first place. He’d been the one to find her when she and her family snuck into the comandante’s home to steal his prized collection of rare figurines. Ignacio had been the one to rat her out.
She stuck out her tongue at him. His eyes widened, and he disappeared behind his curtains. But when she got to her room in the servants’ quarters that night, she spotted a small bird made from folded paper hanging through the overhead vent.
Esmeralda had been ecstatic to see the fluttering dove, but that emotion was quickly devoured by suspicion. She stood on a chair and plucked it from the fishing wire it was attached to. Two words had been scribbled onto the wing.
Open. Please.
Hastily, she pulled the bird apart and was stunned to see that he’d written instructions on how to properly fold a paper dove. She’d laughed at his audacity and had replied with some rude comment. But that had been the beginning of their friendship. They passed tiny notes using fishing wire through the vent that led from his palatial room on the second floor, through the stairwell, and into her windowless chamber on the bottom level.
Ignacio Olivera was the great war commander’s only son.She was the great war commander’s tiny spy. They both had their roles to play in the commander’s life. But their worlds were never meant to collide. She was too far below Ignacio’s station.
The letters had been rudimentary at first, just the naïve thoughts of two children who had no other friends. And then, as they grew older, the letters grew deeper.
Ignacio would ask questions like:
What do you think of when you look at me?
If you weren’t you, who would you wish to be?
Have you ever loved someone before?
When he turned fifteen, Ignacio asked:
Will you meet me under the stars?
