Woven in Moonlight (Woven in Moonlight #1)(86)

I ought to feel relief. He’s letting me live. I should get out of his sight before he changes his mind. But I stand rooted to the spot, the wall supporting me. His decision stems from how much he cares about me, and I imagine this is how far he’ll let himself go. He is loyal to his people, the princesa, the cause. Nothing more will exist between us, but he’ll let me go, he’ll give me this much.

It’s not enough.

I don’t look at him as I bend to pick up his blade. Wordlessly, I hand it to him. He takes the handle, careful not to touch me. My heart stutters and cracks. I walk away, heading for the cobbled road that will take me back to my cage.

“Ximena,” he calls softly.

I stop, but I don’t turn around. My name on his lips makes the hair on my arms rise. A hundred guesses traverse my mind, surrounding what I hope he’ll say next. That he’ll escort me back to the castillo. That he’s willing to trust me. That he believes me when I say that I’m on their side. I think all those things in the seconds between his next words.

“Don’t make me regret it.”





CAPíTULO





The next day passes in a blur. Suyana seems to notice my restlessness because she sends me outside, confident the fresh air will do wonders for my nerves before the wedding celebrations. I leave her in the room as she tidies; it’s a mess of finished tapestries and bundles of wool and discarded projects. The disorder should bother me, but I’m unable to focus on anything other than what’s to come.

Carnaval. Catalina leading Illustrians to battle. Rumi destroying the Estrella. Saving Tamaya before she’s executed. There are too many components in the plan, too many ways it can lurch sideways. It’s enough to make living in a mess bearable.

Juan Carlos escorts me to my favorite bench in the gardens, where we’re tucked away from everyone else. It’s hot and sweat drips down my back and curls at my temples, dampening my hair. I scan the area, looking for Rumi, but I know I won’t find him. He can’t trust himself around me. I drop my head into my hands. I knew our friendship would end up here, but that doesn’t lessen the hurt.

He kept his identity a secret too. I stubbornly cling to that truth because I’d rather feel anger than pain. He lied to me. He can’t be mad at me for doing the same. But a niggling doubt pecks at me like an annoying, hungry chicken. Up until last night, I was going to give his name to the priest. I had good reason, but it’s a betrayal nevertheless.

I can only hope that when Rumi finds the Estrella, he’ll trust me again. I lift my head and push my hair back from my face, and as I do, I catch sight of the person I don’t want to see at all. I stiffen as Umaq crosses the garden courtyard, heading to his quarters.

“Who is he really?” I ask.

Juan Carlos glances at the priest. “A Lowlander. He’s actually a priest—that’s not fake. Atoc is a fanatic when it comes to rituals and traditions. Umaq’s blood magic is pretty rare, and his installation in the castillo was easy.” He looks over at me. “We have no delusions about Umaq. He yearns for money and chases the obscurest legends in search of it. His motives have always been for the advancement of his people, but for now they align with ours.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“He hates Atoc as much as we do.”

The priest disappears into the castillo, and I can’t help shuddering. “Still.”

Juan Carlos plucks one of the eucalyptus leaves and inhales.

“Will he go?” I don’t need to clarify the question. He knows I’m asking about Rumi and his possible trip to Lago Yaku.

“He leaves tonight.”

I exhale in relief. He’s decided to go after all. “Will you go with him?”

He shakes his head ruefully. “He wants me here. I fought him, but he insisted.”

Warmth takes root in my heart and blooms. In order to keep me safe. But my next thought is dampening. Rumi might have his cousin watching me in case I move against Tamaya. I lean back, using my hands to angle my body up toward the sun. “I’m not going to betray him again.”

“I believe you,” he says.

I snap my head in his direction. “You do? Why?”

“People are people.” He shrugs. “We mess up. You took the chance to make it right, and that’s all we can really ask of anyone. My cousin doesn’t trust a lot of people, and he shouldn’t. He can’t afford to—not with so much at stake. His life, our princesa’s, and mine. He carries our people’s hopes on his shoulders. What you’ve done threatens that.”

I think again about how close I was to betraying him last night. Obviously, the priest wouldn’t have turned him over to Atoc, or hurt the Illustrians at the keep. But I didn’t know that. I understand Rumi’s caution. It’s kept him alive all this time.

“Who knows? After finding the Estrella, he might come to your room and get down on his knees, begging your forgiveness.”

I let myself smile as we head back to the room at fifth bell. But Juan Carlos is wrong.

Rumi never comes.



The day of Carnaval arrives and I haven’t heard a word from Rumi. Juan Carlos is strangely missing, so I can’t ask him what’s happened. I don’t know whether the Estrella has been destroyed. I push aside the breakfast tray even though there’s enough dulce de leche to normally make my mouth water. My head hurts and my body feels stiff and heavy, as if I haven’t slept in days. But I’m not tired. Panic rises with every heartbeat.