“He was killed when Inviernos burned our village. Just before I met you in Father Alentín’s rebel camp.”
I remember. She was so sad at first. Meeting God’s chosen one seemed to bring her comfort. “Oh, Mara.”
“I still miss him. But I also know how lucky I am. I could have been pregnant when he died, for we were careless. My father could have found out and beaten me for it.” She points to the scar above her eyelid. “I have another scar like this one between my shoulder blades. But Julio saw past the scars and found me beautiful.”
Her voice catches a little on the word “beautiful,” so I reach an arm around her shoulder and give her a squeeze. “You are beautiful.”
She laughs. “I know! Even with these awful scars. Julio always said he loved my smile. And my nose! Admit it, my nose is perfect.”
“Your nose is perfect.”
She leans into me. Her soft hair smells of honeysuckle. Her voice trembles a little when she says, “I do worry sometimes, since being burned by the animagi, that maybe I’m too scarred now. And burn scars have a particular awfulness, all ridged and warped and oddly colored. I may never take a lover again. I couldn’t bear for someone I cared about to . . . to be repulsed.”
It’s a feeling I understand well. I used to dread the moment when Alejandro would turn away from me in disgust. But he died before I found the courage—or maybe the desire—to be naked before him.
“And I worry that what I shared with Julio is something that only happens once to a person,” Mara says. “Maybe I’ve used up my love luck.” She shrugs.
“I worry about that too.”
She sighs. “I liked Humberto. He was always smiling, always cheerful. I didn’t realize you were lovers until you told me about him.”
“We weren’t.”
“You never . . . ?”
“Never.”
And somehow she understands that by saying “never,” I’m not just talking about Humberto, for she says, “You will. As queen, it’s inevitable. You will marry, and everyone will pressure you to have a child so that there is more than one heir to the throne.”
“You make it sound so calculating.”
“Oh, it often is. But after marrying you could take a lover. Most of the royals do, or so I’ve heard.”
I’m glad the darkness hides my flushed face. “I couldn’t. When I married Alejandro, he had a lover already. It was . . . hurtful. Even though there was no intimacy between us.”
“I see.” And I know she does. I grab her hand and squeeze tight. I could never say it aloud, but I hope she understands how glad I am that she is here with me tonight instead of Ximena.
Her voice turns mischievous. “Well, maybe you’ll get lucky. Maybe you’ll marry a man who is rich and powerful and wise and wonderful to be naked with.”
I can’t help the giggle that bubbles from my mouth.
“Maybe,” she says, “you should ask all your suitors to drop their breeches so you can inspect the merchandise.”
“Mara!”
“You could make it a royal command.”
I toss a pillow at her.
She just laughs at my discomfort. But then she sobers and says, “You’re beautiful too, you know. When you get intense, you spark. And you have the kind of hair any man would want to get tangled in.”
Of its own accord, my hand goes to my braid, strokes it. I’ve always liked my hair. Would a man really notice it?
Mara adds, “You don’t have to settle for a first time like mine.”
I shift the subject. “Well, if I ever meet that young man, I’ll . . . er . . . speak sternly to him.”
“Oh, you have already. It was Belén.”
I am stunned. “I thought . . . he and Cosmé . . .”
“Yes. But that was after.”
I had no idea the two knew each other before we formed the Malficio. What must it be like for Mara to have him show up here in the palace? I say, “I can make sure you never encounter him while he is here.”
“No need. I’m quite over it. We even got to be friends again when we stayed in Father Alentín’s camp.” She stands. “And you, my queen, need to get some rest. Full schedule tomorrow.”
I stand. On impulse, I wrap my arms around her. She freezes for a split second, but then she returns my embrace. “Thank you,” I whisper.
After I creep back to bed and blow out my candle, my thoughts are still too busy, my skin too warm, for easy sleep. It’s terrifying to consider that I might someday share a bed with a man who is a stranger, a calculated alliance, someone who might not care for me at all.