Woven in Moonlight (Woven in Moonlight #1)(44)

Another court day.

Atoc will be intolerable and unpredictable because of the events from last night. He might take his anger out on me—or worse, one of the guards might have drawn conclusions about my identity. If there’s even a hint of suspicion … I suppress a shudder. I don’t want to let anyone down. I don’t want to be thrown into the dungeon and rendered useless again.

I don’t want to fail.

Suyana pulls my hair into two thick braids, muttering about the knots she can’t untangle. After being stuck underneath a sweaty mask for most of last night, my hair looks like a charming home for parrots this morning.

“What did you do?” Suyana asks, holding up the end of a braid where my hair poofed out like a cloud. “That’s one knot.”

“I must have tossed around in my sleep,” I say quickly. Which is partially true. I prayed for sleep, but the whole night I couldn’t stop my mind from churning. Any moment, I expected the door to open and guards to clamor inside, shouting for my arrest. “Are we almost done?”

She pauses mid-grumble. “You’re a funny girl, Condesa.”

I hand her a navy ribbon. “What have I done now?”

“You don’t act like a condesa,” she says, tying up the end of one of my braids. “Every morning you make your own bed, pick up your clothes. When a plate of food is before you, there’s nothing delicate about your table manners. You eat like a starving wolf. You don’t like dressing up or painting your face. I can barely get you to sit still long enough to brush out the tangles in your hair. And I’ve never seen you look at yourself in the mirror. It’s strange.”

My heartbeat slips in and out of rhythm. The fear of being discovered as a fraud roars to life, ravenous and gnawing me to bits, tearing into my skin. Her list of imperfections are all wholly myself, wholly Ximena, and said so casually, oblivious to my inner turmoil.

I hope.

I work for a nonchalant tone. “It’s strange I don’t fit into the box you made for me?”

The smallest of smiles. “Everyone makes boxes. It’s human, I think. You made one for Llacsans.”

It isn’t a question. I hand her the next ribbon. The anger I carry for the Llacsans has been my closest friend ever since I spent time on the streets after my parents’ deaths. It’s fueled me. Motivated me to survive. Anger carried me to the castillo gates.

And now? Do I feel anger toward Suyana? I thought about my plea to spare Pidru’s life. Definitely not the actions of an angry girl. Definitely not the actions of an angry girl posing as a decoy spy.

That’s when it hits me.

I’m no longer angry with all of them. Just Atoc and Sajra, and for very specific reasons. Not because they’re Llacsans, but because they’re corrupt. My realization feels important somehow.

I turn to face her, and nod. I want her to know that I heard her. “Yes, I did put you all in the same box. But that doesn’t feel right to me anymore.”

“Just as it doesn’t feel right to keep you in the one I made for you,” she says. “You’re ready to face the king, Condesa.”

Suyana leaves with a soft smile.

It should have made me feel better. The first real smile she’s given me. Sincere and a little shy. But it’s a lie. She smiled at the decoy.

The real condesa hates all Llacsans.



Juan Carlos comes to fetch me for court. He leans languidly against the door frame, a smile that I assume most find utterly attractive stretching his perfect mouth. My hair has been tamed, I’m wearing rouge on my lips, and the dress must fit right given the way he’s studying me from head to toe. “You look very fetching. The loveliest girl I’ve ever seen.”

How he manages to utter such ridiculous nonsense with a straight face is beyond my understanding. It takes a special kind of person, I guess.

“I don’t care for your compliments.”

He laughs. “So you’ve made clear. ?Lista?”

I let my nod speak for me since I don’t trust my voice to remain steady. My fear has caught me by the throat. Then we’re out the door, the same tall guard from last night trailing after us. We march to face the king, and whatever mood he’ll be in after last night.

At least they won’t find the folded piece of paper detailing the possible locations of the Estrella. I snuck it down my dress in case Atoc demanded all rooms searched.

But they’d still find the sword and dark clothes.

My hands suddenly hurt, and I glance down in surprise. I’d been clenching my fists, my nails digging half-moon imprints into my palm. Juan Carlos lifts a dark brow in my direction. “You seem like you’re in a bad mood.” I flex my hands. “I mean, worse than usual.”

“Have you ever seen me in a good mood?”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you smile—not even once,” he says. “Watch out for the eggs.”

I sidestep a pile of just-laid eggs, lying about as if it’s normal to have food on the floor. His words unsettle me. Catalina would have charmed this guard by now and sucked his secrets from him with her almost guileless manner and pretty grin. “You give your smiles away far too easily.”

“Is that why you don’t care for my company?” he asks, completely serious.

His words startle me to a stop. “It’s because you’re Llacsan, you—”