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He looked much more composed than I, and he was watching me with a similar curious expression that he had worn on and off throughout the morning. There were questions in his eyes.
I didn’t feel like conceding to him and asking him what was on his mind. My insides felt weak and heavy. Tears that had retreated hours ago returned.
One thing stuck out to me, something that I was afraid to think about. I had spent so much time rejecting everyone around me. I did not tell anyone I loved them. And now… “Am I really expected to find a husband?”
Señor Castillas hesitated. It was noticeable enough that I saw it through my blurry vision. I couldn’t take in his expression.
“Of course. Arranged marriages are a part of this life.” There was something about the way he said it that reminded me of the day he announced his marriage to Beleza. His words were just as stilted then as the day he gave her eulogy, and I could see the black banners lining all of Casas Grandes. Of course, it was sad that she had died, but it was strange to be expected to cry so hard for someone I didn’t know.
However… to be fair, I had been absurdly wounded over Antonio Castillas. Someone who I was sure I’d never meet.
But all of that happened before all the death. Beleza’s, Pablo’s, my parents’—either of which could have been connected to the royal family. Something that had been promptly brushed aside, so I followed suit. But, I did wonder if the man sitting on the other side of the table had loved Beleza Duarte. Did it hurt him to find that she was gone forever?
My new mentor interrupted my mind and I realized I had been staring. “We need to go to the training center we’ve rented. But first,”—he hesitated—“I was wondering if you would like to eat?”
I blinked. The way he spoke was definitely gentler than I had ever heard. “Are you being nice to me?” I couldn’t help but ask.
His eyes narrowed. “Basic nutrition is important for maintaining peak physical condition. I am thinking about you as a mentor—a dangerous position you forced me into by showing up at those auditions,Carmen.”
The use of my real name stung like a slap to the face. How foolish I’d been to mistake his self preservation for kindness.
This world was a complex web of games and strategies. We were all trying to survive.
Chapter21
What a Very Elite Thing to Say
Señor Castillas gave me fifteen minutes to change and meet him downstairs in the same parlor where he had entertained his guests the night before.
The dining situation was even more casual than the breakfast room. At the furthermost wall stood a bar with three stools, two leather couches with a small table in between. The afternoon sun shone through the gossamer curtains and rained into the room with slightly dusty rays. There were silver dishes kept warm atop small flames and plates—stacked higher than necessary for two people—resting on the corner of the serving table.
Only myself and a servant wielding a silver serving spoon were present. He flashed me a smile which I returned before crossing to the plates and asking for food from the neatly arranged trays. Red rice fried in butter was expertly laid on my outstretched plate alongside a filet of fish in lemon garlic sauce. I filled in the blank space on my plate with vegetables steamed with hierbas finas.
My stomach twisted thinking about how this luxury was not enjoyed by all.
“Gracias,” I said each time the spoon connected with my plate, wishing hunger to return. It looked delicious, and the portions appeared appropriate, but the meeting had soured my appetite.
I let out a long breath and walked toward the bar stool with a nice view out of the window. Without another thought, I dug my fork into the rice and watched the wind cause mesmerizing waves of leaves in the tops of the endless trees surrounding this house. The rice was well seasoned and the fish succulent, which I had expected, but it collected like a brick in my stomach.
When I was asked if I wanted a glass of wine, I declined, asking for simple water. I didn’t need to throw up at this mysterious training center.
Everything was still so quiet. I felt strange, like all of my thoughts had been bottled up into a concentrate. Though I’d spent my entire morning around people, I felt completely alone.
While watching a group of birds flit from one tree to another, someone cleared their throat behind me. I jumped and whipped around to find Antonio unexpectedly close. Losing my balance, I forcefully grabbed onto the counter. My fork rattled against my plate and my chest heaved.
“Easy,” he reached out his arm to steady me. Seeing that I was stable, the limb dropped back to his side.
He had also changed into simple black exercise clothing. Would he be training alongside me? Maestra Cecelia often made corrections in a very hands on manner. We scarcely got through a practice without her hands adjusting my form.
Would his hands dance across my waist, my hips, my hands?
I swallowed.
The beginnings of a smirk sparked across that stone-like face. “Were you so hungry you couldn’t wait for me?” he asked.
A chill rippled over my skin. After a morning of both subtle and forceful criticisms of my manners, it was embarrassing to get yet another thing wrong. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head, and the corners of his mouth tightened. “I don’t accept unnecessary apologies. I already told Señora Olguín that you will have your first lesson tomorrow. Consider today your last day of freedom.”
