“What does your grandmother say about all this? Does she know what I am?” Celeste’s breath was warm and humid against her shirt, smelling of the coconut water the server had given them.
Reina knew she could return the embrace. As friends, their boundaries were as thin as the fabric of Celeste’s dress. Yet as Celeste held her, a rush that had nothing to do with being friends bloomed in Reina’s belly.
It was a lapping fire asking for more.
“Of course she knows.”
Her tail coiled, aching for what it would feel like to be touched as well.
“And she dares use me as a pawn anyway?”
Reina quickly stepped back, eyes avoiding Celeste’s. “She’s only following the caudillo’s desires.” There lay the true reason behind the complications in their lives. The caudillo’s whims and ambitions. His longing for his dead wife.
“What’s the matter?” Celeste asked.
The voices from the corridor spared Reina from more half-truths and lies. Someone knocked on Reina’s bedroom door. She could make out the voices of Eva and Maior, then Eva saying, “We don’t have to wait for her. Just leave her.” Their footsteps receded seconds later.
Maior had been looking for her.
Maior, with her never-ending concern.
Reina wondered if she should be leaving her unprotected and alone.
Then Celeste licked her lips, and the thought flitted away. “Shall we join them at the beach?” Celeste said.
“We wouldn’t want to offend the Liberator by declining his offer.”
Celeste toyed with the end of Reina’s braid. “Change into your dress,” she commanded.
“Fine. But I’m bringing Ches’s Blade.”
Celeste’s room was locked and empty when Reina came back moments later. A wave of relief flooded her. She nervously smoothed out the folds of the linen dress over her abs and the disfigurement around her chest, where her crystal contraption was all hollow, ragged edges. At least she could postpone the inevitable—Celeste seeing her in this dress that clearly disagreed with her skin—for a little longer. She followed the corridor until meeting a door to the beach. The garden path was decorated with bushes of saturated hibiscuses, violets and fuchsias and reds, made lively by the occasional chirps of domesticated parrots and toucans. The cobbled path opened to the mouth of the beach, where the sand was a fine powder of hot coral, blistering beneath Reina’s borrowed espadrilles.
There Javier stood under the shade, looming over Celeste, who rested on a mat. The serene coming and going of the shallow waves was only a few paces away. Under the sun the water glimmered the lightest blue, unable to conceal the fishes and clams that lived beneath its surface. Ahead, more cays stood against the horizon line.
“Would you look at that monstrosity,” Javier said as he saw Reina approach. He hadn’t changed out of his traveling clothes.
Reina tugged the fabric around her chest, which was tight around her bindings. “I don’t do dresses,” she said, flushing.
“And I’m glad for it. You look terrifying,” Javier added, and Celeste promptly told him to shut up. “Now I finally see the resemblance to your grandmother.”
The dress truly didn’t fit her body type. Her shoulders were too broad, her biceps all muscle. It didn’t help that she had tightened the scabbard straps around her hips, arming herself with the blade for peace of mind. She tugged at the sleeves, desperate for a readjustment, and stared bitterly at the serene waves lapping the beach. She looked, and felt, hideous in it.
“I’m only doing this for you,” she muttered to Celeste, who giggled.
“Anyway, like I was saying,” Javier said, regarding Celeste with a sneer, “I can’t believe their audacity, that they would leave amapolas here like this. Do they take us for a commune?”
“Maybe they don’t know their magic,” Celeste said while munching on a pineapple.
“Why are you talking about sharing amapolas?” A pang came with the memories of the first time she’d witnessed amapolas. Reina frowned. She remembered the day so vividly, when the Benevolent Lady and caudillo had shared the juice. An aching crept into her chest. How she wanted it all back.
“We are not,” Javier drawled. “Why tie my fate with someone when I can live alone just fine? Learn to love yourself before you start ruining your life with useless declarations of love.”
Celeste rolled her eyes and gestured at the fruit tray. Chunks of pineapple, coconut, tamarind, and soursop were arranged around four whole amapolas, the sweet aroma of the pineapple overpowering the other fruits. The amapolas were small and spherical like limes, with thin green skins and the tops flaring up like red flowers. Inside, amapolas were a fleshy red that turned creamy white when it contacted the air.
Reina’s frown deepened. “They left us amapolas?”
“They have them growing everywhere here,” Celeste said. She stood up and dusted the sand off her ruffled dress.
Suddenly Reina realized she had no idea of where Maior had gone off to. “Where are Maior and Eva?”
Javier gestured to the canopied path leading away from the manse and toward the mountain.
“And you just let them go?”
He shrugged. “Eva’s too greedy to abandon me. She was glowing with the idea of Rahmagut’s tomb being down that way—apparently a servant told her something.”
The workings of Reina’s transplant heart hiccupped. “And that doesn’t alarm you for a second? What about Maior?”
“She’s your responsibility.” Javier shrugged and turned to path back to the manse. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take up that servant’s offer of a massage.”
Celeste scoffed. “Hey—you’re married to Eva, or are you forgetting?”
Javier paused and considered her. “While what I do in my private time is none of your concern, I simply do not desire that with strangers.”
Celeste’s cheeks flushed red.
“And you, my niece, have a monstrous imagination.”
Reina just watched him retreat, still frowning. Maybe she was making a mistake by idling. Maybe it was high time she sought her grandmother.
A mild breeze tickled them, lifting the baby curls framing Reina’s face.
Celeste reached out and with a smile stole the moments to unbraid Reina’s hair. She let loose the curls, which bounced down almost to Reina’s waist. Then she held her prisoner with those blue eyes while she finger combed the springy, lithe black hairs that hung near Reina’s cheeks.
“There. Try to relax. You seem so tense.”
Reina held her breath. “I have to go find Maior,” she lied.
“I’ll come with you, then.”
“What— But Don Samón wants you to stay here—”
“And enjoy this paradise by myself?”
Reina sucked in a deep breath and nodded.
Side by side, they left the shade and the fruits behind, taking the same path Maior and Eva had allegedly walked to. There the sun was reduced to spotting their skins, its rays barely filtering through the canopy. A strange peace bloomed in Reina, as if she were entering a place she understood, a moment from a far-off memory. Or maybe it was the sound of the waves they left behind, lulling her as the jungle of sea grapes welcomed her into its innards.