The sentiment reeked of ambitions and expectations, all of which she was currently desperate to sidestep, and was eerily similar to the words Shayim had told her before she had departed the ayllu.
“Did you know that Master Wara served alongside Emperor Yachua? He taught Emperor Maicu all he knows, and he knowsmanythings. Be sure to ask him all your questions and give him your ear.”
The empress’s words were innocent enough, but Nina couldn’t help but feel like there was something the woman was implying. Something she wasn’t saying. “I understand,” Nina said, though she felt like she might not.
“Very good,” Empress Chaska said, rising. “Then I shall see you at dinner.”
Nina watched her walk toward the door and pull it open, but the empress turned at the last minute. “Just remember, he sees everything.” To Kasik, she said roughly, “Temple, then tutor.”
Kasik bowed and waited until Chaska was gone to step into the room. His eyes flicked to Nina’s feet. “Shoes” was all he said, and then he bent down to reach beneath her bed for the pair of slippers she had carelessly tossed aside after dinner.
“Nina, I—” he started, holding out her slippers as if to help her put them on.
But Nina snatched the shoes from him. “Do not,” she said, trying and failing to keep her balance as she shoved her feet into them.
“That’s not fair,” he said, stepping closer to brace her before she lost her balance.
“Life isn’t fair, Kasik,” she said aloud. Distance, her mind screamed, and she yanked out of his grasp and hopped a step back. The more space between them, the better. “You weren’t supposed to be here. We were never supposed to see each other again.” With both shoes finally on, Nina gathered herself with a deep breath. “It was much easier to think that I could do this knowing that I wouldn’t.”
“I am sorry to disappoint.” Kasik stared at her, hurt splashed across features that softened in a way that made Nina ache. He ran a hand down his face as if he could wipe it away. “I meant what I said before. This isn’t what I wanted, but I—”
“Cannot go against the wishes of your emperor,” Nina interrupted. “I am very aware of that. And why would you, when all it took was one word from your tayta to believe that I have manipulated you into feeling anything for me?”
“You do not know me at all if you think I would be so easily persuaded.” Kasik stepped forward so quickly that the air left Nina’s lungs. His hands went around her arms, gentle but firm. “I am not the enemy, Nina, but there’s—”
“You areallthe enemy.” Nina wrenched herself away from him and walked to the door. Her heart beat so wildly that it stole her breath, but it was better to face away from him. To hide how difficult it was to be near but keep him at arm’s length. They weren’t friends, or allies, or even acquaintances. They were strangers. No one and nothing at all.
“Nina, please,” Kasik begged, one hand extended toward her, a tether to ground her in this strange and terrifying world. As always, it was tempting to accept. He was the only person who had seen what she had done and still, he offered his hand. Regardless of hermonstrous power.
Which was easily contained and not so monstrous, after all. It had taken one touch from Kunay Atik, and she could only feel it like she could feel the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. There, but hidden behind a haze of white. Near, yet so far.
Like everything else seemed to be, it was entirely beyond her reach.
Nina was aware of the threads of those they walked by. She couldn’t touch them, but it was almost as if they were brushing against her, waiting to be seen and cradled and used. The ache of craving was enough to distract her if she let it, but Kasik’s presence beside her was steadfast. She focused on the accidental brushes of his arm instead, bent at his side with a hand on the hilt of his blade as if challenging anyone who looked too long. And look, they did.
Attendants in blue flicked their eyes to her and away before she could meet them. The walla were more brazen with their curiosity, stopping togreet Kasik and then letting their eyes trail over her before moving on. There were others milling about who wore darker shades of blue but paid her little mind. Visiting nobility, perhaps, under the protection of the emperor but did not belong to him.
The closer they got to Qorikancha, the quicker Nina’s heart beat. She had tried to avoid thinking about what the mamakuna would require of her, but the chunks of gold illuminating the building that flashed in the late-morning light forced her to remember Chaska’s words and truly consider them.
Avirgin.
It seemed that she could not marry Emperor Maicu if she was not one. Perhaps it could be another path to ending this arrangement. A plan, in case murder did not pan out. She only hoped that the gods could not hear her thoughts and strike her down.
A light hand pressed against the small of her back. It was warm and grounding, as always. “Are you all right?” Kasik asked, but his gaze was focused over her head, his eyes darting around as they had in the Tuta Kulla. Even in his own home, he was on watch.
Nina hadn’t realized she’d stopped. “I’m fine,” she said quickly. Kasik’s hand fell away when she resumed walking, and she hated how much she missed the warmth of it.
Until he guided her through a narrow doorway and into the temple of the sun god, and her breath was taken away. It looked entirely different then the first time she had seen it.
The ceilings still soared high above, but the cavernous room was cut with streaks of sunlight that poured in from small pass-throughs interspersed throughout. There was no furniture to sit on, no finery to admire. The beauty was captured in the beams of light and how they illuminated the golden discs bearing the likeness of the sun, the glare so strong that Nina’s eyes burned.
On the opposite side of where they stood was a platform, where statues made of gold stood, each in the shape of a man with long hair and a giant headpiece made of glossy black feathers balanced on his crown.
“The past emperors. They are embalmed and then cast in gold to preserve their connection to Inti.”
Kasik’s voice was little more than a whisper. It sent a shiver down her spine. She took a step closer, was about to ask which one was Emperor Yachua, when a figure walked out of the shadows and into a beam of light.
The mamakuna of Qorikancha. Her elegant purple robes and severely cut features made her seem otherworldly. “You may go,” she said to Kasik, who nodded and turned away, barely cutting Nina a glance before he left. She felt betrayed by his hasty retreat, and she hated herself for it.
