And, of course, she had to point to the one right above my left breast, over my heart. One scar without a fun story behind it. It’s small but thick, looking permanently inflamed. All my scars are a lighter color than my skin, but this one is the lightest of them all, as close to white as my skin tone could get. It’s my oldest.
“Rock dagger. My mother and I were sparring,” I say.
“Your mother doesn’t speak to you,” the princess counters.
“She used to.”
I see the realization slowly show on her face. She studied my history once I was chosen. I know that much. But there’s more to me than what the Inka know. Yet, I don’t like that. I want her to know. I want her to be able to read the map that is my body and tell me where it leads.
“I begged her to teach me, and my mom doesn’t believe in going easy. She’d knock me down in seconds and wouldn’t stop until I couldn’t get up. I tried to sneak up on her one day when she was training with daggers. She didn’t appreciate it,” I explain.
“The oldest you could have been was six years old. Before she left.”
I have nothing more to say, so I just nod.
“That’s not sparring,” the princess says.
Suyai had been furious. She had gone to my aunts, her tiny fists shaking. She always acted like an adult, and she spoke to my aunts like one, too. My aunts were equally as mad, but my mom and I knew the benefit. I learned my lesson.
I learned I needed to be faster.
I wait for the anger to overtake the princess’s face after her statement, but nothing happens. I wait and wait as she stays still as a rock.
I hold my breath when she lifts her hand and covers my scar with an open palm.
“You’re a warrior. You have a warrior’s body.”
I can’t tell if she’s disgusted by it. It’s normally so easy to tell. In Suyai, it’s her pinched face and teary eyes. In others, it’s a pitiful frown. The princess is blank-faced.
Until she smiles, a familiar look of recognition, like seeing an old friend, lights up her face.
“But you’re my champion now. No more scars unless it’s for me.”
When I get dressed, I'm in a daze.
Chapter 21
Cusco is the heart of the ancestral empire. It was the capital until the main palace moved to Lima for its security and resources. It remains the religious capital of the empire, with various palaces for the nobles and the Panaka to stay and commune with the Gods, while also being a bustling city.
All the main entrances are guarded by soldiers conducting document checks. There are multiple lines and hordes of people at each one. It’s claustrophobic, and if I hadn’t gotten used to being surrounded during training exercises, I would be overwhelmed. I wonder if this is how my mother felt her first time here, after life in our rural community.
The princess seems put off too. It makes sense. She’s a recluse, a princess locked up in a tower. While I know she’s been escorted from Lima to Cusco in the past, it’s always been carried in on a plush platform by soldiers like me.
Only a week ago, my dream was to be at the front of that procession as the Apukispay. There’s so much more at my fingertips now. The princess of the empire is at my side, and that’s only the beginning.
Because today I’m going to save the Inka. No Sun Staff required.
I look at the princess at my side, and I know she won’t like how I intend to do it. Not that she’s expressed that to me. She hasn’t even asked what my plan is in the first place. I wouldn’t have much to tell her, but the little I do have, I know won’t go over well. It’s okay. We’ll get there when we get there. This moment is all about following the princess’s plan and hoping it gets us in with no problems.
I should be more nervous about my lack of control over the situation, but I can’t help it. It’s hard to be nervous when the princess is attached to my side, her arm entwined with mine, meeting at the end where we’re holding hands. She was so skittish when I grabbed her hand, but now she’s pressed against me like she’ll never let go. With Mare attached to her side, we really do look like a family unit.
I’m glad to have them both so close. People are pushing past us and jostling everything around them. There are llamas of the darkest black brought for sacrifice and alpacas of the softest wool brought for their coats. There’s the rustling of coca leaves in massive bundles and the clinking of intricate metal sculptures and jewelry.
The city’s massive walls are bordered with gold bricks and zigzag at random angles. But I know the city‘s design is anything but random. The borders make the shape of the Feline. It’s fitting to bring the Inkan princess dedicated to the Feline here. It feels like a divine purpose.
A breeze hits us, and the princess shivers. It’s a normal action, but it ignites something tender in me. I shuffle my arm out of her grip, and for a moment, she fights it. She doesn’t want to let go.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, and a second later she releases my arm. I then lift my arm and wrap it around her shoulders, pulling herinto my side and partially covering her with my lliklla. She turns to ice and then melts, digging deeper into my side like she’s trying to get past my skin. I bite my lip to hold back a smile.
