“Will you please follow me?”
Manuel and I both step forward, but Nina shakes her head.
“Only Catalina.”
“We stay together,” Manuel says firmly.
“Even for bathing?”
Manuel blushes to the roots of his hair. When he nods, I almost fall over. Nina merely smiles and beckons for us to follow.
“I’m sorry—I won’t leave you alone until I know it’s safe to do so,” Manuel says under his breath.
“I don’t mind.” I reach for his hand, but he steps away, gaze averted from mine as if he can’t stand to look at me. I let my palm drop, and I fight to keep the hurt out of my voice. But I don’t succeed. “What is it?”
Manuel motions for me to walk ahead, his expression remote and grave, and then he lags behind with our newest guides. I resist looking over my shoulder as he strikes up a conversation. In the space of a walk, something has shifted between us. Once again I wonder what the Illari tracker told him.
We keep to the outskirts, though the paths are also well lit. Chaska has disappeared, along with the other two guards. Only the three women remain with their guards. Our attendants are dressed in long tunics and open-toed sandals. Their dark hair is worn long and loose, reaching their waists.
Part of the river has broken away to form a round pool. Stone steps lead down into the clear water. The pool looks like the moon, and the steps form a crescent shape alongside it. Guttering torches provide enough light to showcase the deep azure of the water.
Next to the pool is a small building, also round and white. Nina disappears inside and comes out with baskets for both Manuel and me. Each is filled with fresh clothing, a bar of soap, bundles of mint leaves, and rough cotton towels.
She gestures toward a large flat rock next to the pool. “Leave your clothes there. We’ll clean them for you.” She wrinkles her nose as she assesses my shirt and trousers. “Or burn them.”
“Burn,” I say with a small smile. “Definitely burn it all.”
Manuel stands a few feet away, as if he dare not draw any closer. He’s frustrated; I know it from his tense shoulders and annoyed huffs of breath.
“I’ll let you have your privacy with each other,” Nina says.
Something in her tone makes me blush again. But then Manuel’s flat voice cuts the night. “I’m only her guard,” he says. “I’m sworn to protect her.”
She shrugs. “But you still need privacy, yes?” And before I can say anything else, she and the other women disappear. I face Manuel, clutching my basket. We study each other—there’s hope on my face; I can feel it. But he’s as stiff and formal as ever, wearing his sense of duty like a heavy cloak.
I hate it and don’t understand it.
“You can—” he begins just as I start to say something. We both stop awkwardly.
I strive for a light tone. “Do you think there are piranhas in there?”
A reluctant smile tugs at his mouth. He shakes his head. “Go in first.” He turns around, hands gripping either side of his basket.
He doesn’t need to tell me twice. I haven’t had a bath in what feels like forever. The soap smells heavenly, a blend of citrus scents. Perhaps mandarina and naranja. I undress and throw the soiled garments onto the flat rock. Then I sink into the pool, the cool water coming up to the bottom of my chin. I bend my knees and let it close over my head.
When I reappear, I call out to Manuel. “The water is perfect. You don’t have to wait until I’m done. I won’t look.” I tuck myself under the surface so only my head and neck are visible, then face away from the steps.
“Don’t turn around,” he orders.
“You’re safe from me, Manuel.”
He mutters something, but I don’t catch the words. The sound of him undressing rides on the subtle breeze. I shiver and sink deeper into the water.
“I’m in,” he says softly.
I face him and nearly laugh. He’s as far away from me as he can go, clutching the bar of soap like a weapon. He regards me fiercely, his expression clear: Don’t come any closer.
I hate being told what to do, and the urge to cause ripples across his still demeanor nearly overwhelms me. I want to yank open the doors to his shuttered expression, let enough light in to reveal all of his secrets.
“I can’t keep up with your moods,” I say.
“No one is saying you have to.”
“But they affect me,” I say. “One minute, I’m your friend. The next, I’m not. Sometimes you smile at me and seem to enjoy it. But then there are the smiles that come against your will. I hate those. Manuel, what did Chaska say to you?”
He remains stubbornly silent—trapped in a pool with me, nothing but water between us.
I look away and search for another topic of conversation. “Have you ever been swimming with a girl?”
His shoulders tighten. “This isn’t suitable conversation.”
“I bet all the girls were madly in love with you, no matter where you went.”
“Why?” he asks, exasperated. “Why on earth would you think that?”
“Well, look at you,” I say.
He glances down at himself, at the puckered scar on his shoulder, his calloused hands, and the dirt under his fingernails. Then he returns his attention to me, his face perfectly straight, but his voice has a subtle note of amusement. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
I try not to roll my eyes, but it’s seriously difficult. “You’re taller than any boy I’ve met, you look great in a pair of pants, and your jawline …” I let out a little laugh at the startled look on his face. “But more than all that, you’re constant and loyal. Always calm—except when you lose your temper, which isn’t often, but for some reason, it’s usually with me. I always feel perfectly safe when you’re near, like everything will turn out all right in the end. There’s so much about you to love.”
“But there’s no point in falling in love with me, is there?” he asks.
“It might be fun,” I say, striving for a light tone, even as my heart flips.
He flicks water at me. “Think harder.”
“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” My voice drops to a whisper. “What’s changed?”
“Maybe I’ve come to my senses, Condesa.”
I make my way toward him, the water rippling against my moonlight-touched skin.
He eyes me warily, as if I were a predator. “Chaska told me about the king.”
That stops me. “What about him?”
I’m only a foot away from him. We stare at each other for a long moment. He’s breathing hard. From annoyance, nerves, I can’t tell.
“His name is Sonco,” he says flatly. “He’s looking for a wife.”
Is that all? I shrug. “So he’s looking for a wife. Why does that upset you?”
“Chaska told me how much they value seers here. She implied that you might have a lucrative future in the city.” He swallows hard. “You could be his wife—”
“Now, that’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” he counters. “Take a moment and consider it.”
Everything in me resists, but the idea takes root unwillingly. The tribe thrives within the jungle, guarding untold riches. They clearly have an army—one I need desperately. I am a condesa without a throne, and here’s one available. I’ve been hoping for their help to march against the Llacsan queen. I just never imagined I could do it newly crowned myself.
It’s enough to push me to the other side of the pool. Manuel watches my retreat, half approving, half sad. “I knew you’d see the benefits.”
But even as I stand as far away from him as I can, I still want him. “I need to think.”
“What is there to think about?”
I throw up my hands, splashing water. “I don’t know. My feelings for you, maybe?”
“You’ll move past them.”
“Kindly refrain from telling me about my own sentiments,” I say stiffly. “Manuel, there might still be a way for me to acqu
ire an army without my having to marry him.”
He inclines his head. “Maybe. This one is the easiest.”
But he doesn’t sound convinced, and even I have to agree that marrying Sonco would be a neat and tidy solution to all of my problems—all of my problems, save one. Manuel folds his arms across his chest. I hate how far he’s drawn away from me. I think about everything we’ve gone through, how he’s pushed me to my limits, encouraged and supported me.
I don’t want to give him up just yet. I glide forward, my toes skipping against the soft sand. Manuel stares at me in alarm. “What are you doing?”
“You know what.”
He shakes his head. “I’m wrong for you. You know I am, and that’s why you’re pushing this to happen when it can’t. Not ever.”
I step forward and he sucks in a deep breath. His gaze drops to where the water laps against my neck. Drops lower to the swell of my breasts.
There might not be another time. I’ve been dreaming of a future that may never come to pass: ruling a kingdom, reconciling with my people, honoring my parents’ memory. And here’s Manuel, dependable, strong Manuel, who feels the same way I do. Here’s a future that still might happen.
“I know what I’m doing,” I whisper.
He leans closer, his expression tortured, and runs a light finger down my cheek. “You’d be making a mistake with me. You’re—” He breaks off and half turns toward the steps.
I don’t hear anything. “What is it?”
“Shhh.” He pushes away from me. “They’re returning.”
“No one is coming. You just want the conversation to end.”
Manuel glares at me as Nina and the others return. When they see that we’re still in the water, they quickly turn around. “It’s growing late,” Nina calls out. “Unless you two would prefer to remain—”
“No,” Manuel says. “I’m coming out.” He shoots me a pointed look and I turn around.
The words said between us drift into the night, incomplete.
I’m given an ankle-length tunic to wear. The cotton fabric is light and soft against my skin, the shade a fierce yellow. Gold geometric patterns are stitched across the upper half, the sleeves lined with matching fringe. Manuel is given a tunic of his own, but his ends at the knee. Our sandals have a wide leather strip near the toes. The shoes don’t fit, but it’s better than stuffing my sandy feet into my boots.
I quickly braid my wet hair and then twist it into a bun at the top of my head, tucking the end between the thick coils. When I’m done, Nina guides us back to the smattering of buildings I saw by the bottom of the hill. She points to the larger of the four.
“Condesa, you’ll be staying here.”
“Gracias,” I say.
She turns to Manuel. “If you’d like, you can sleep with the other guards.”
He glances at the building. “As her guard, I’d prefer to remain close to my sovereign. I can station myself outside her door.”
I roll my eyes. “You’ll have to sleep sometime.”
“We have men who patrol throughout the night,” she explains. “I assure you, she’ll be perfectly safe.”
Manuel appears torn but tucks his chin. “I’ll remain on watch tonight.”
“Certainly,” she murmurs. “I’ll have someone prepare you a bedroll.”
Before I can say anything, Manuel thanks her. I shoot him an exasperated look.
“I’ll be fine if you want to keep quarters with the other guards.”
He scowls at me. “I’ll be with you.”
I throw my hands in the air, but that only makes him more unyielding. The strong lines of his face tighten between his brows and at the corners of his eyes. Exhaustion hits me squarely in the face. “I’m too tired to argue with you.”
“Yo también.”
Nina watches us both with an amused expression. “I’ll return for you in the morning. We hope you sleep well.”
“Gracias.” I push open the door and step inside, but Manuel remains outside. Half a dozen flickering eucalyptus-scented candles line four window ledges. A basket filled with mango and achachairú sits on a wooden table. I peel the skin off the latter and suck on the tangy fruit, enjoying the sweet lemon flavor. There’s a plate of boiled turtle eggs and dried beef, and a bowl of sliced marraquetas to snack on as well. Off to the side sits a narrow pallet made of bamboo with a large animal fur draped across it. No sheets or pillow, but it’s so hot, I don’t think I’ll need either one.
The cot looks more comfortable than a cramped hammock.
Potted plants give the room a cozy, homey feel. A small fireplace completes the setting. I notice a large clay pot with matching cups sitting next to the food basket. I lift the lid to find cool fresh water and a ladle. I pour myself a cup and drink it down. Then I have another, but slower, savoring the feel of the cold liquid sliding down my throat.
The door opens, and Manuel steps inside. “They’re asking if you’d like anything hot to eat.”
“No, I’m too tired,” I say. “¿Quieres agua?”
He nods, and I hand him my cup, still nearly full. He sips from it, studying me over the rim.
“Is it possible for us to be just friends?”
Manuel hesitates. “I don’t know.”
“I still don’t want to fight.” I sigh. “You’re being stubborn.”
“I’m being stubborn?” he asks, incredulous. “We’ve been acting inappropriately. I’m your guard, and I ought to have never shared my feelings with you. Never should have kissed you—”
My jaw drops. “That kiss—which wasn’t really a kiss, by the way—”
“I know what a kiss is,” he growls.
“You thought it was inappropriate?”
“I have a job to do.” He slashes the space between us with his free hand. “You know that.”
I wince. I keep forgetting that part. My safety is his responsibility. “We don’t know anything right now. So, fine. Their leader is looking for a wife, but what if he already has his eye on someone? It’s pointless to argue over something that hasn’t happened yet.”
He shoots me an aggrieved look. “And in the meantime, we risk our hearts?”
I sigh. “I’m exhausted.”
“So am I.”
I drag a long hand down my braid. “You don’t have to stand watch. Sleep in here—”
“I’ll sleep on the ground outside.”
The ground is made of packed dirt. He’d rather sleep on dirt than next to me. “All right.”
He finishes the water. “Their king is a great warrior. The people love and respect him because they loved and respected his father.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
Manuel stares into the empty cup. “He sounds like a good man.”
“How old is he?”
“Younger, I think.” Manuel pauses. I get the sense he wants to say more, but he must change his mind, because the silence stretches. “Good night, Condesa.”
I try not to flinch. He lowers his chin, a swift acknowledgment, before closing the door behind him. He leaves me standing with my heart splintering. I thought I’d gotten past his wall, but it’s solidly back in place, with a moat around it. I drag in air, willing my body to stop trembling. I shake away my hurt, my confusion, and think about the Illari, who I have to convince to help my cause.
An Illari I might have to marry in order to get what I want.
CAPÍTULO
Veintiuno
The next morning, I’m up and ready before they come to get us. It’s time to meet with their leader. I’m chewing on mint leaves when a loud rap sounds on the door. Manuel waits on the other side.
“Sleep well?” he inquires politely.
His expression is carefully arranged and nonchalant, nothing for me to question or poke. I can’t stand it. “We’re not doing that,” I say firmly.
He takes a step back. “Doing what?”
“It’s all right to show me what you’re really thinking … how you�
��re really feeling. I can handle your frustration.”
Manuel drags his hand down his face. Peers at me through spread fingers. I can’t discern his expression.
“What?” I ask.
He sighs. “You keep surprising me.”
“Are you unhappy?” I lower my voice into an urgent whisper. “Tell me the truth.”
Manuel lowers his hand slowly. “Yes.”
“Then be miserable with me.” I inhale sharply. “Because there is an us, whether you like it or not. I don’t want to have another conversation until we know what we’re dealing with. Fair?”
“Fair.” He pulls open the door. “¿Estás lista?”
I glance down at my ensemble. I’m still wearing the long tunic from the night before, but my hair is at least dry, my face scrubbed of dirt, my hair rid of tangles. What I wouldn’t give for a hairbrush to smooth it into a polished shine. I leave it long and loose, and it curls in every direction.
Manuel is dressed in a royal blue tunic with gold detailing and embroidery. He looks neat and clean, as if he hadn’t slept on the ground. The Illari have given him leather sandals and a blade to remove his scruff. He looks young and more like the Manuel who left me behind three years ago.
Together we follow Nina and a couple of guards on a path that leads deeper into Paititi. The buildings become numerous, all with white-patched walls, and roofs of russet clay tiles, mixed in with a few solid-gold ones. The stone path splits into several directions, but we remain on the one heading straight to the center of the city. We cross a stone bridge, guarded by a golden statue of a jaguar on one end and a king vulture on the other. Both animals are rendered in motion, ready for attack, fierce expressions on their gleaming faces.
“What are your buildings made of?” Manuel asks.
“We mix white clay with a bit of straw and soil,” Nina says. “When it dries, the material becomes strong. Our roofs are the clay found in the riverbank and the gold from our mountain.”
Their mountain is smaller than ours, but equally majestic. It’s dark and rocky, and while the peak isn’t capped in snow, the rest is covered in handsome trees. A square temple made of black stone juts forward, as if part of the mountain itself. Gold pillars frame the entrance. I hope they’ll let me peek inside one day. I slow down to walk alongside Manuel. His dark eyes flicker from one building to another, to the guards patrolling the market and back down the way we came, memorizing the route, not missing a single detail.
Written in Starlight Page 17
