Woven in Moonlight (Woven in Moonlight #1)(7)



Catalina stands next to me, hands on her hips. “What do you think he’ll say?”

“Well, he’s not inviting us to tea,” I say dryly.

“At least Atoc didn’t send the priest,” she says, relief palpable in her voice.

The messenger and his companions ride through the iron gate and into our courtyard. They stop next to the fountain with exclamations of delight. The group dismounts their horses and creeps closer to the fountain, which is fed by an aqueduct carrying water from our coveted mountain spring. Ana destroyed the aqueduct’s path to La Ciudad after the revolt. Because of her, all the fountains in the city dried up, contributing to the water shortage crippling the region. Her hope was to hit them where it would hurt most. Then cut them down at their weakest.

Our guards draw their swords and surround the Llacsans. The messenger, dressed in a vibrant striped vest and black trousers, tips his head back and peers up toward our window. I sidestep out of view, pulling the condesa with me.

“He looks like a brute,” Catalina says.

“I’m going down. I’ll send for you when it’s safe.” I dart around her and shut the door behind me. I don’t want to see the forlorn expression on her face.

My feet somehow carry me down the two flights of stairs and toward the great hall. I keep my steps light on the stone floor, ignoring the sting from the leather laces wrapped too tightly around my ankles.

My heart thrums wildly. What does Atoc want? He doesn’t have designs on peace, that’s for certain. I take a deep breath, trying to slow my racing heart. The last thing I want or need is to reveal any weakness.

I straighten and push the double doors to the courtyard wide open. Droplets of rain patter softly onto my shoulders.

Everyone hushes at my entrance, Illustrian and Llacsan alike. Sofía steps aside so I can face the Llacsans, but signals for our guards to press closer, forcing the enemy into a cramped circle. Their spears lie at their feet in a neat pile. Every one of them wears sandals and loose-fitting tunics under brightly hued vests. None are dressed for battle. Thankfully, the courtyard is closed off to the rest of the Illustrians. Sofía’s doing, more than likely. She doesn’t have much patience for pesky questions.

Archers stand in the windows of the twin white stone towers guarding the entrance of our keep. I’ve never climbed to the top, but Catalina says that from them you can see La Ciudad in the distance.

Sofía comes to stand by my side. “Condesa.” She nods and I return the gesture, thankful she’s present.

The Llacsan standing at the front of the group steps forward.

The messenger.

“Buenos días, se?orita,” he says. “King Atoc, His Majesty of the upper mountain and lower jungle and everything in between, sends you his greetings—and a message.”

He pauses, eyebrows raised expectantly. He looks past me, toward the doors, as if he wants out of the rain and to relay his news within the keep. I scoff. I’ll die before I let a Llacsan cross our threshold. Next he’ll be wanting to see our mountain spring.

“Well? What is it?” I say, careful to keep my voice emotionless.

“His Royal Highness, the wondrous Lord of all the land and—”

“Spare me,” I snap. “What’s the message?”

One of the Llacsans murmurs disapprovingly. They throw uneasy glances at the Illustrians watching their every move. Some begin to whisper in their old language.

I don’t care un pepino what these people think about me.

The messenger’s brows slam together. “You’re to be his wife.”

I laugh.

Outrage erupts among our guards. They all step closer, snarling and cursing. Sofía glares at the Llacsan messenger and raises her sword until the tip is level with his heart. Another guard notches her arrow and aims it at the tallest Llacsan in the group. I can’t help but glance over my shoulder to our bedroom window, hoping she heard that outrageous proposition. Though I probably shouldn’t have laughed. It’s the kind of behavior she disapproves of.

“You’ve traveled all this way for nothing,” I say. “I’ll never be his wife.”

“That’s not the entire message. You’re to report to the castillo by sundown. Alone. Should you refuse, the Illustrians we’ve rounded up will be executed, one by one.” He leans forward and adds conversationally, “I believe you’re missing a certain general and her fellow soldiers?”

Ana.

The pain in my chest makes it hard to breathe.

My eyes snap to Sofía. She presses a fist against her mouth and lets out a high keen.

That bastard. I clench my fists, blinking back tears. “Where are they?”

“In the castillo dungeons. Or the prison. Or tucked away in some remote estate.” The messenger shrugs. “I honestly couldn’t say. They are out of your reach, that’s all I know. But their lives will be spared the moment you become His Majesty’s wife.”

The messenger turns to leave, signaling his companions to pick up their weapons. Our guards move out of the way to let them pass, but the messenger pauses. He looks over his shoulder at me and smiles again—catlike—his white teeth gleaming.

The smile snaps me back.

The words rip out of me. “Kill them all.”

The Llacsans barely have time to register the command before the guards start hacking. I turn away, Sofía at my heels, and stride to the double doors, the sounds of clanging steel and horrified shouts bellowing in my wake.

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