Lo tried not to fidget.She could never tell what he was thinking at moments like this.Still silence before an earthquake.She tried her best to sense any tremors.
“I suppose,” he grunted, “your suitors will find it favorable.”
She exhaled.Prickles spread across her achy scalp.
“I’ve whittled down your choices.Only the finest families will be considered.I must keep our legacy strong.”
Not “you” or even “we.”Justhim.Lo had no say in the matter.
“Oh, Papá,” she cooed, hugging his arm.“But what about you?What doyouthink of my gown?”She stepped back and gave a twirl.She caught her face in the mirror, her beguiling smile slipping away and hardening.The older Lo grew, the more she detested dancing.Her feet grew weary from standing too long.Yet this song and dance had gone on for years.She couldn’t take it much longer.She put her face back together as she turned to her father.Just in time for him to grab her chin and roughly tilt her head toward him.
“You look just likeher.”His eyes narrowed into slits.“With each passing day, you remind me more and more of your mother.”
From any other father, this would have been a compliment.The highest compliment, in fact.But from Lo’s father, it was a curse.Unlike her sisters, Lo’s thick, curly hair was a lighter brown, especially this time of year when the sun embraced her strands.Her brown eyes drooped and her features were soft and rounded, yet striking all the same.Just like Mamá.
Her father hated it.
He never admitted it, let alone explained why, but Loknew.Ten years ago, Mamá had fled.Never to return, and never to be found.But oh, did her father try to find her.Lo still remembered his barking demands as the search parties came back empty-handed.Without a doubt, if the man could have turned back time, he would have done anything in his power to keep Mamá from leaving.Even if it meant chaining her up.Unfortunately for him, time manipulation was a concept out of reach for even the most powerful of brujas.
He made up for this by exerting his dominance over Lo.Ruling her life, dictating her future.Imprisoning her.A beautiful cage with golden bars wrapped in delicate lace was still a cage.And she had no hope for escape.
His fingers dug into her cheeks.Hard.Rough nails bit into her skin.She tried not to wince.
“Don’t ever betray me like she did,” he hissed.
“Never ever.”Lo stared intently into her father’s eyes, numb to the lies escaping her lips.
“Promise me,” he demanded.
Never ever will I be true to you.
“I promise.”She sweetly smiled.Agree and smile.Smile and agree.That was one of the first lessons she had learned during her childhood.
Satisfied, her father released her.She caught her reflection.Pink marks from her father’s nails marred her lower cheeks.If a maid had been there, she would have dabbed them with healing elixir, one of the most expensive potions.The concoction, shining like a star, erased bruises, scrapes, and other signs of her father’s … temper.Yet it never chased away the dark thoughts blotting Lo’s mind.
Just once, she wanted to make that man feel what he did to her.To squeeze his arm until purple bruises formed.To speak to him as though his thoughts were worthless.She would have loved to snatch his hand away from her face.Never touch me like that again!she wanted to yell.
“Serafina’s almost of courting age.I hope she’s been keeping up with her lessons.”
Lo snapped out of her thoughts.“Sera’s been doing very well, especially with her needlework.”She was genuinely perfect.Too perfect.At her age, she should have been allowed to be messy and make mistakes.
“I already have some prospects for her.If all goes according to plan, she can marry a Las Cuatro boy as well.Sofía too.No more spending all her days in the stables.She must start acting like a proper young woman, or else no man will want her.”
Sofía was only eleven.A child.
Did he even think of them as daughters, or solely as pawns to be traded?Assets used in the competition for control of Las Cuatro?With that kind of power, he would have more influence than even the president.
“I would much rather die than see you or your sisters wed below your potential.”
Then maybe you should die.
Her own thought startled her.She turned back to the mirror just in time to see someone rush into the parlor.It wasn’t either of her sisters, or a servant.“Mayté?”
Panting, Mayté hunched over.Her rebozo slid off her arms and tiny baby hairs stuck up from her braid.Her brown face was slick with a sheen of sweat, and her rosy cheeks bloomed bright red.
“María Teresa.”Lo’s father turned away and rubbed his mouth, clearly frustrated.He hated being interrupted.Good.Served him right.After composing himself, he scowled at Mayté.Lo hated the way he looked at her best friend.As if she were even lower than the servants.Yet, years ago, he would go carousing with Mayté’s father, back when the Robles family had money to their name.Now it was as if that friendship had never existed.Disgusting.
“What bringsyouhere?”Lo’s father asked coldly.
