Blood & Fur Chapter 45: A Daughter's Grudge (Patreon)

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How could I best abuse my power?

The question was on my mind all morning after I left the Reliquary. Immense resources and control of the imperial state meant that my only limits were the Nightlords’ veto and my own imagination. I could easily make my pet Iztili into a governor if I so wished, and perhaps I should. He would no doubt do a better job than most of his predecessors.

I had many ideas on how to confuse Iztacoatl, from false prophecies to other baffling moves, but I better wait a day or two before breaking my routine. My captors would no doubt grow suspicious if I underwent a radical shift in personality right after I visited the Reliquary. As odd as it sounded, true chaos demanded rigorous planning.

Once that period passed though, I would go wild.

I put those matters aside upon entering the council room. My four consorts had gathered there for breakfast. Truthfully, I had missed all of them. I hadn’t shared a moment with them since the First Emperor’s prophecy, let alone spoken to them all at once since before the New Fire Ceremony.

I noticed a few interesting details. First of all, Ingrid had traded her black robes for brighter colors; which signified that her mourning period over her mother’s death had come to an end. Chikal was playing a game of Patolli against Eztli and winning handily. Finally, Nenetl greeted me with the saddest expression imaginable.

I didn’t take that as a good sign.

Ingrid was the first to welcome me with a deep and respectful bow. “Greetings, my lord,” she said courteously. “How good to see you again.”

“You arrive just in time to see me lose,” Eztli complained. “Our dear Chikal shows me no mercy.”

Her words bemused the amazon queen. “I do not believe in coddling.”

“I suppose I will duel the winner then,” I replied with a chuckle. “I have missed you all greatly.”

I kissed them one after another. Ingrid met my lips eagerly and Chikal accepted the gesture no longer than what courtesy demanded. Nenetl blushed slightly when I did it, while the coldness of Eztli’s skin confirmed that she was the real one instead of an impostor. Good, I wouldn’t have to suffer a body double in intimate meetings.

Servants entered the room to serve us the moment I took my seat between Ingrid and Eztli.

I recognize Tenoch and Atziri among them. The latter’s presence didn’t surprise me much since she was Eztli’s handmaiden, but I didn’t expect the former.

“I have taken Tenoch as my handmaiden,” Ingrid explained upon seeing my confusion. “Since my lord saw it fit to favor her, I believed it wise to take her under my wing.”

“You did well,” I replied. She is as sharp as ever. “Tenoch is a talented girl.”

“Master is too kind,” Tenoch replied with an audacious wink. “It is an honor for me to serve a woman as poised and refined as Lady Ingrid.”

“You make me blush,” Ingrid said with courtesy. “I believe the two of us will soon become good friends.”

I immediately understood Ingrid’s intentions. She had taken Tenoch as her personal handmaiden for the same reason I had been interested in Atziri in the first place: to use her as an intermediary and courtier.

Come to think of it, I should probably select handmaidens for Nenetl and Chikal. It would give me a new way to keep tabs on my consorts and send secret messages in a pinch.

“And I lost again,” Eztli complained after Chikal soundly defeated her. “Will you take the board, Iztac? Unless Nenetl wishes to play first?”

Nenetl flinched. “Oh, I… I wouldn’t mind…”

“Is something wrong, Nenetl?” I asked her. Her behavior filled my heart with concern. She had the look of someone about to announce a death in the family.

“I am glad to see you again, Lor–Iztac.” Nenetl cleared her throat after correcting herself. “It’s just… I am not certain how I should tell you and Eztli…”

Eztli raised an eyebrow. “Tell us what?”

Nenetl gathered her breath and mustered all of her courage. “Your… Your hometown of Acampa… It was destroyed in the eruption. I am told…” She looked down at the table to avoid facing our gazes. “I am told that there were… no survivors.”

A short silence followed. I exchanged a glance with Eztli and saw the light of amusement in her crimson eyes. Much like I, she had expected far worse news.

“Your concern is welcomed, Nenetl, but we had already guessed as much from the reports on the eruption,” I replied calmly. “The earth’s wrath killed many that day.”

“I’ve heard that Chimalli has died too,” Eztli replied with a cruel smile. “A shame. I would have loved to kill him myself.”

Her words caused Nenetl to flinch and the other consorts to give her blank stares. I supposed Eztli still bore a grudge against her former fiancé for not defending her when the priests came to seize her. I personally didn’t care much for the village—especially since my father was buried elsewhere—though I regretted the deaths that resulted from the cataclysm as a whole.

“Acampa’s destruction was unfortunate,” I replied while sipping from my warm chocolate cup. An idea then crossed my mind. “Does anything remain of it?”

“Nothing but ruins,” Nenetl replied shyly. “The smoke… the smoke killed everyone.”

“Then once the dead are given the proper funerary rites, we shall rebuild a new town in its place,” I decided.

My suggestion caused my consorts to send me strange glances, none more surprised than Nenetl. “A… a new town?”

“Do we not bury our dead under our houses so their spirits can grant their descendants luck?” I asked rhetorically. What an insipid and useful superstition. “By rebuilding a new town over the old, we will ensure its prosperity.”

The suggestion amused Eztli. “Was Acampa not destroyed by a divine punishment, Iztac?” She teased me with a wide smile. “Wouldn’t we insult the gods if we rebuilt a town over the ruins?”

“Not if we make this town a model of beauty and piety,” I replied with the utmost insincerity. “We shall call it New Iztacoatl, after the fairest of all goddesses.”

Eztli stifled her laughter. “Careful, Iztac,” she said with that ever-charming sly grin of hers. “One of those four goddesses might disagree with your assessment.”

I had to hold back a chuckle at her subtle joke. Chikal’s expression told me that she had caught on to it, and Ingrid’s suspicious look seemed to indicate that she was putting two and two together when it came to Yoloxochitl’s secret demise.

Only Nenetl remained both oblivious and anxious. “You think the goddesses will take offense to it?”

“I will ask Lady Iztacoatl’s permission first,” I reassured her. “Still, I believe she will agree to offer her patronage. Much like a snake sheds his old skin for new scales, the destruction of Acampa will lead the way to a better future.”

On the surface, founding a new settlement named after a Nightlord should be tremendously flattering. That it would be raised over a memorial to their greatest defeat yet could be interpreted in many ways, and how Iztacoatl chose to do so would tell me a great deal about her personality.

This ploy would test out my predecessors’ advice in a very subtle way. If Iztacoatl answered my bait with curiosity and whimsical humor, then I would start slowly applying pressure and then make a sudden, bolder move. If she reacted with violence and cruelty, I would adapt accordingly.

“I’ve heard from foreign merchants that land scorched by a volcano’s ashes become extremely fertile once the flames cool down and the wind carries away the fumes,” Chikal noted. “It might take weeks for the lands to become safe for exploitation, however.”

“If the goddess agrees to my lord’s suggestion, founding a new town would be a good idea,” Ingrid said. “We can at least prepare a plan to resettle the region. The recent disasters must have displaced many.”

“We have housed thousands of refugees over the last few days,” Nenetl confirmed with a sorrowful sigh. “We have given them food and shelter, but… I worry for their health. Many have drunk befouled water on their way to the capital.”

“Send them to military training,” Chikal suggested. “The more bodies we can throw at the Sapa Empire, the better.”

Nenetl bit her lip. “These people have lost their homes. Sending them to war so soon… it is harsh.”

“If these people are not put to work, then they are a burden to the state,” Chikal replied. “The Sapa will not fall in a day. Let the refugees earn their clean water and food with their sweat and blood.”

I guessed Chikal’s plan was to throw as many people at the Sapa in order to bleed out Yohuachanca’s strength. It made sense from her point of view, but I would rather have fewer soldiers on the front. The more the empire struggled in its conquest, the more its armies would rely on the Nightkin and expose them to danger.

“We need people at home to rebuild too,” Ingrid pointed out. “My lord has earned their fear a few nights ago. If he shows them compassion in their time of need, he will earn their love as well.”

I didn’t put any faith in the masses’ love, but relocating the refugees would give me the perfect excuse to leave the palace. After all, the Nightlords could hardly blame me if I decided to check on how my subjects were doing…

“I, ugh…” Nenetl coughed. “If Your Majesty will, uh, allow me to make a suggestion…”

“You need not ask for permission, Nenetl,” I replied warmly. By now I thought she would understand that.

“Thank you.” Nenetl smiled sweetly at me. She was growing more confident with each passing day. “Between the rains of blood, the smoke, and the early onset of night, I fear that this year’s harvest will be poor. We need more farmers than soldiers.”

Eztli’s smile showcased her sharp teeth. “Nenetl isn’t wrong, we might face a famine soon. Refugees would make for a convenient food source.”

Nenetl covered her mouth in horror, and Ingrid hid her unease behind a blank expression. I hardly reacted any better. As much as I loved Eztli, I found her dark joke quite tasteless; doubly so after spending so many nights in Chamiaholom’s company.

Only Chikal appeared vaguely entertained. “I doubt starving refugees will provide much meat, Lady Eztli.”

“I was joking,” Eztli replied mischievously. “However, I am sure that the idea has crossed certain minds.”

If I didn’t settle the refugees’ fate soon, then the Nightlords would no doubt purge them. More bodies at the altar meant fewer mouths to deal with in a famine.

“We will put the refugees to work, but not on the battlefield,” I decided. “Instead, we will have them rebuild what they have lost. We will raise new towns for them to inhabit and have them assist in toiling for the next harvest.”

Nenetl nodded in agreement. “It would be kinder for these poor people to rebuild their lives than lose it in foreign mountains.”

“Speaking of the Sapa’s mountains, we were told that the new would-be Emperor accepted our challenge,” Chikal said.

“Ayar Manco suggested a Flower War of three hundred warriors,” Ingrid confirmed.

“Three hundred?” Chikal snorted in disdain. “Does the Sapa Empire lack champions? That number is pitiful.”

“I suspect that this choice reflects both practical and symbolic considerations,” Ingrid replied.

“The number three is of great importance to the Sapa, since it represents the sky above, the world of the living, and the land of the dead in their culture. Moreover, their emperor must preserve most of his forces at home to dissuade his brothers from rebelling. Even if his recent marriage to his sister has strengthened his position, he cannot afford to–”

“Sister?” I interrupted her in surprise. “Have I misheard?”

“My lord has sharp ears,” Ingrid reassured me with a light chuckle. “According to our spies, Ayar Manco has adopted a foreign princess from a tributary confederacy, Killa, and then married her.”

I wasn’t the only one left puzzled by her words. Eztli showed sudden and morbid interest. “He adopted a woman as a sister before he married her? Did he want to bed a sibling so much that he invented a loophole to avoid the taboo?”

“I admit I am curious too, Ingrid,” I said with a frown. “What purpose does it serve?”

“My lord already knows that the Sapa’s imperial succession differs from ours,” Ingrid reminded us. “Whereas the heavens choose a new emperor each year in Yohuachanca, a Sapa Emperor’s ascension is either determined by their predecessor’s decision or that of a council. Both cases are open to contestation, as seen with Ayar Manco’s brothers.”

“So I have heard,” I replied. I’d hoped the threat to their homeland would cause them to set aside their differences by now. “What does it have to do with the adoption?”

“The closer a new emperor is to their predecessor, the greater their legitimacy,” Ingrid explained to me. “Henceforth, a Sapa Emperor usually adopts his would-be wife as his sister in order to give them greater respectability. It is a symbolic gesture and tradition, nothing more.”

“I would love to see their family tree,” Eztli mused. “I would expect to see a few tangled roots.”

“It is a strange custom,” I conceded. I wondered if it had anything to do with the Sapa’s Mallquis. From what Queen Mictecacihuatl told me, they required the breath of their living descendants to survive. Adoption could serve as a loophole of some kind.

Nenetl joined her hands. “I wonder if the Sapa find us strange from their point of view. We do change emperors each year, while I think their own rulers last until old age.”

I shrugged and changed the subject. The Sapa Emperor’s choice of partner mattered to me less than his proposed number of fighters.

A Flower War was a series of duels between warriors meant to showcase their valor. Both parties agreed on how many soldiers would take the field. The victors would usually keep the defeated fighters as hostages, to be either ransomed back or sacrificed.

Three hundred was too few a number. On one hand, I wanted a grand spectacle that could both cow Yohuachanca’s generals into obedience and impress on the Sapa the danger that my empire represented. On the other hand, the Flower War was a distraction for a much larger naval invasion. Challenging too many Sapa warriors to partake in the former meant leaving them too open for the latter.

I needed to find a middle ground.

“Ingrid,” I said. My consort straightened up in her seat. “You will inform Ayar Manco that while I agree to challenge him on the first day of the Wind Month, a Flower War with fewer than four thousand fighters is beneath my divine notice.”

“Four thousand, my lord?”

“One thousand for each of the Nightlords.” Whereas the Sapa favored the number three, Yohuachanca believed in the number four. “This ought to show our enemies the strength of our resolve.”

“Will Ayar Manco accept this challenge?” Chikal asked.

“He cannot refuse,” Ingrid replied. “To do so would be tantamount to admitting his weakness. A true Sapa Emperor should be able to field ten times the amount that my lord requests.”

I hoped that Manco rising up to my challenge would help him secure his authority inside his borders. The meek followed the bold.

As always, Ingrid sharply read the situation. “This is pure conjecture for now, my lord, but I strongly suspect that Ayar Manco’s brothers will soon contact us once we send back our answer. They are certain to plot against him.”

“I expect as much,” I replied. I hoped kinship would prevail over ambition, but I had come to anticipate the worst. “We will wait to see their offers before adjusting our strategy.”

Nenetl shook her head. “This talk of siblings fighting each other makes me ill at ease. Families should not tear themselves apart for power.”

“Such is the fate of any organization whose leadership is not based on merit or divine providence, Nenetl,” Chikal replied. “The hearts of men are filled with greed, and few forces can quell it.”

Eztli chuckled. “Are you not the queen of Chilam by virtue of your birth?”

“I became queen by blood and stayed that way through merit.” Chikal smiled back at her. “Any amazon can challenge the queen in a duel for leadership if they believe them to be unworthy. Many have tried to seize my throne before I joined this court. None succeeded.”

A hierarchy that relied on strength didn’t seem any better than one based on birth to me, but I kept that part to myself. That tidbit of information explained why Chikal put so much emphasis on power though. Her environment encouraged its pursuit.

We finished reviewing the upcoming Flower War preparation over breakfast. I was confident in our preparations so far. This ought to prove to be quite the spectacle.

“Now is time for my training,” I said after emptying my chocolate cup. “Chikal, I would like to focus on swords and blades over the following days.”

Chikal frowned at me. “Why is that?”

So I may practice for the day when I can use Bonecrafted blades against the Nightlords. “With the Flower War less than a month away, I would rather master one weapon than become average in all of them.”

“Our Lord Emperor is wise,” Chikal replied. I still couldn’t tell whether she spoke her mind or not. “Very well, I shall adapt your training accordingly.”

Ingrid shifted in her seat. “Would my lord indulge me today?”

“You wish to witness my training?” I asked her, recalling her previous interest in it. “You are welcome to observe us anytime.”

“I would like to do more than observe,” Ingrid replied much to my surprise. “If my lord will allow it, I would like to participate.”

“Participate?” Chikal repeated, her eyes suddenly alight with interest. “You wish to learn the arts of war?”

“I would like that, yes.” Ingrid nodded sharply and turned to me. “If my lord believes it will not interfere with my other duties.”

“I see no reason to refuse,” I replied. What was she thinking? I thought she was only interested in my training to keep an eye on me. “You are welcome to train with us.”

“You will do well, Ingrid,” Nenetl complimented her.

“I will pass training under the sunlight,” Eztli complained. Her gaze swiftly settled on Nenetl. “Would you kindly entertain me for a while? I don’t like ending a Patolli game on a losing streak.”

“Oh…” Nenetl still appeared a little uneasy at spending time alone with Eztli, but she was too kind to refuse. “If I’m not a bother…”

“Bold of you to believe that you can defeat Nenetl,” I teased Eztli. “She is better than all of us combined.”

“You make me blush,” Nenetl replied, her pale skin turning pinkish. “I do not deserve such praise.”

She did, but her genuine modesty honored her nonetheless.

Chikal and Ingrid left for the courtyard first. I prepared to follow them when Eztli beckoned me to approach her.

“Do you intend to complete the set, Iztac?” she asked me.

I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I heard that you and Chikal played king and queen yesterday.” Eztli stroked my cheek and then smiled at Nenetl. “Only one flower remains unplucked.”

Poor Nenetl turned so red I thought she would die of heat stroke on the spot. She covered her mouth and dared not to look at me. I admit I found her reaction adorable.

Eztli had a point, Nenetl was the only consort I hadn’t spent a night with yet.

I wasn’t in a hurry to change that. Nenetl’s innocence and kindness came as a breath of fresh air in this den of vipers and I had grown very fond of her. I wished to treat her with the same gentleness she had shown me. If anything were to happen between us, it would be because she wanted it rather than because we were forced to.

Come to think of it, I had yet to modify the spells binding Nenetl to the Jaguar Woman. I would need access to the tattoos on her back to do so, and in a way that wouldn’t arouse suspicion.

Eztli might have given me the perfect excuse.

“True, I haven’t spent as much time with Nenetl as I did with you and the others.” I turned towards my fourth consort. “I apologize for this. I will take a moment this evening to discuss the refugee crisis and infrastructure repair projects with you, if you do not mind.”

“Oh…” Nenetl struggled to gather her breath. “O-of course not. You, ugh…” She put her hands on her knees and forced herself to calm down. “You are welcome to visit me anytime…”

Her response drew smiles from both Eztli and I. Nenetl reminded me of a clumsy young pup. One couldn’t help but find her adorable.

“One last thing, Iztac.” Eztli’s fangs peeked through her lips. “I do not think you will need to worry about Mother’s life anymore. She enjoys a goddess’ protection now.”

A goddess? It didn’t take me long to realize that Eztli meant herself.

The Nightlords needed Eztli to impersonate Yoloxochitl in order to secure their power. What better way to pressure her than to keep her mother alive? I knew the Jaguar Woman wouldn’t hesitate to torture Necahual if Eztli ever stepped out of line, but she would never kill her now. My mother-in-law’s demise meant losing any leverage over their new sister of the dark at a critical time.

Moreover, she had dared to call Necahual Mother in the open. Something unthinkable back when Yoloxochitl was still alive.

I just hoped her confidence wasn’t misplaced.

“I see,” I replied, choosing my words carefully. “I pray that you are right. The gods can be fickle.”

“Not this one,” Eztli reassured me. “Train well, Iztac. You will look better with more meat on your bones.”

If only she knew.

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Chikal lived up to her promise of intensifying my training. By the time we finished late in the afternoon, my whole body felt sore everywhere. My skin bore the mark of many bruises and my heart struggled to keep my exhaustion at bay. Chikal was clearly determined to ensure that I wouldn’t shame her in front of her fellow amazons.

At least I was making steady progress. I still struggled to push back Chikal when she fought me seriously, but she couldn’t disarm me as quickly as she used to in our first bouts. I slowly stopped downplaying my strength and endurance too. Between our sessions and my improved nutrition, I doubted my captors would find my increasing physical prowesses too suspicious.

My advancement paled before Ingrid’s however.

A heavy silence had fallen upon the courtyard as we watched her raise a longbow. Ingrid had traded her robes for the same cotton armor that Chikal favored, which neatly fit her graceful frame. She pointed her weapon at a wooden dummy, tightened her jaw in deep focus, and then struck the target in its ‘head’ with incredible accuracy. Two more arrows stuck out of its ‘chest.’

That girl has a gift. Ingrid had clearly never carried a weapon in her life, but she proved a quick learner nonetheless. She was passable with the spear, slightly better with the sword, but excellent with the bow. Even the amazons appeared quietly impressed by her accuracy. She learns quicker than any man I’ve studied with at school.

“Two warriors’ blood flows in her veins,” the wind told me. “Her heart beats with the urge to prove herself.”

I had my suspicions about Ingrid’s sudden interest in warfare. Much like how humiliation compelled Necahual to embrace magic in order to regain a sense of control, Sigrun’s demise had taught Ingrid how much she relied on the goodwill of others to live. Learning the art of battle gave her a sense of self-sufficiency that she desperately needed.

“That is an impressive display,” Chikal complimented Ingrid. “Are you certain that you have never wielded a bow before?”

“The only strings I have pulled belonged to my harp and other instruments,” Ingrid replied with a pleased expression. “I assume that it helped develop my dexterity.”

“Certainly, but it does not diminish your feats in the slightest.” For once, the smile stretching on Chikal appeared completely genuine. “I was right, you possess great potential.”

Ingrid blushed slightly at the queen’s praise. She quickly looked for my approval next. “I hope that my lord enjoyed my performance.”

“I did,” I confirmed. “At this rate, you will surpass me.”

“I would never overshadow my lord in anything, but your confidence in me fills me with joy.” Ingrid lowered her bow upon noticing my bruises. “I see that Chikal did not go easy on you.”

“Neither will the Sapa,” I replied. Nor the Nightlords.

Chikal scoffed at me. “I did go easy on you,” she said. “I need our Lord Emperor to keep enough strength to fulfill his promise.”

She never lost sight of her interests.

“I have not forgotten,” I replied. I had the feeling that we would end up in bed after each training session until she could confirm her pregnancy. “We can settle this matter now, if you wish.”

“If my lord would allow me a moment beforehand?” Ingrid asked cautiously. “It has been a long time since we visited the gardens together. After spending so many days confined, I would welcome a walk in the sunlight.”

I saw no reason to deny her, so I promised Chikal that I would join her in the imperial baths in half an hour’s time. The amazon queen did not complain at all. Her fondness for Ingrid appeared almost maternal.

My servants had stripped the gardens of the mantle of ash that used to cover it. Though many flowers had died during the eruption’s dark days, most had survived to see the sun shining through the receding clouds in the sky and workers had already started planting replacements.

The Nightlords were making a determined effort to sweep all hints of their previous failure under the rug. In a week’s time, it would seem as if Smoke Mountain had never shaken the land with its wrath.

No matter. They could put as much paint over the cracks as they want, but it would not close them. Night continued to fall one hour earlier than usual and many water sources remained befouled by the blood rains. The First Emperor’s wrath continued to leave its dreadful mark on the world.

“The dead will not let the living forget them,” the wind whispered. “Do you hear them rattling in their tombs? Their nails scratch at the unlocked door.”

The dead could not wake up any sooner.

“I believe your presence today inspired me to do better,” Ingrid said as we walked along the gardens, her arm clutching mine. “When you looked at me when I pinched my bow’s string, I felt my spine stiffen.”

“No one likes to fail in front of an audience.”

“I suppose so. Mother always said that appearances mattered as much as the truth.” Ingrid glanced at wilted flowers. “However, I didn’t think of Chikal nor anyone else when I raised my bow. I could only think of you.”

Having grown used to lies and intrigue, I searched her eyes for any hint of deceit. I found none. Unlike the time when we first met, Ingrid wasn’t trying to curtail favor with me. She spoke from the bottom of her heart.

Ingrid noticed my unease. “You fear that I am lying to you, my lord.”

“My apologies,” I replied without really meaning it. “My heart has been closed off.”

“I cannot blame you. You are right, I did lie to you many times.” Ingrid let out a heavy sigh. “When I first met you, I played a role my mother prepared me for years. I saw you as a prize to be won. A tool to master in order to secure my family’s legacy. All the pleasant words I told you back then were naught but empty flattery.”

“You did what you had to do to survive,” I replied. The gods knew I had committed heinous deeds for the same reason. “I do not fault you for it.”

“My lord is kind, but I still feel ashamed.” Her grip on my arm tightened. “My mother once said that friendship is a ship that can support two people in good weather and only one during a storm. I offered you so little, but you stood by me in my time of need. I will be forever grateful for your kindness.”

“I appreciate your gratitude, Ingrid, but it is unwarranted.” The mere memory of Sigrun’s murder filled me with anger. “What happened to your mother was cruel beyond words. Any man worth their salt would have supported you back then.”

“I am not so sure, my lord. Many of my mother’s allies deserted me during that time, and those that remained whispered empty words and condolences.” Ingrid smiled like the sun. “You have a kind heart, Iztac.”

Her grateful words filled me with both warmth and anguish.

Truthfully, my life would be so much easier if I didn’t care for anybody. The Nightlords would not have so many spears to hurt me with otherwise. No blades could harm a heart of stone.

Yet another reason why I must destroy the sisters. So they can never harm me or those I care for. I would rather live in a world where the likes of Ingrid would not fear losing a parent for nothing. One day, I will have enough power to protect those who treated me well.

“Thank you, Ingrid,” I replied with the utmost sincerity. “I appreciate it more than you think.”

Ingrid nodded slightly, and then approached her face closer. Her lips softly brushed against mine. I did not turn them away. She tasted of sweat, her perfume covered by the stench of the training ground, but that kiss felt all the more pleasurable from its sincerity.

“If my lord agrees, I would like to leave what happened in the past and start anew,” Ingrid said after letting me go. “I know that only a year separates us from death, Iztac, but I wish to make the best of our remaining time.”

Our remaining time…

I stopped midway through our walk and looked around us. My guards followed us, but remained far enough to give us some privacy. However, I swiftly noticed another spy slithering after us.

A pale snake hid among the flowers nearby.

Ingrid followed my gaze, noticed the reptile, and squinted at it with a cold gaze.

Then she pointed a finger at the snake and shrieked.

“Guards, guards!” Ingrid shouted with a fearful expression. Had I not seen her calculating look a few seconds prior, I would have fallen for it too. “A viper has escaped its pen! Protect your emperor!”

My masked soldiers drew their weapons without hesitation.

The snake bolted away with a panicked hiss and attempted to flee among the flowers, but my mindless protectors did not hesitate to trample the gardens in their pursuit. I laughed in amusement at the scene. These guards were little more than automatons dedicated to my protection. They couldn’t tell a normal snake apart from one of Iztacoatl’s familiars.

“We should be able to speak now,” Ingrid said with a look of amusement once all would-be spies were out of earshot. “What did you wish to tell me?”

I narrowed my eyes on her. “You knew about these creatures?”

“Of course. I have lived my entire life here, and Mother was the White Snake’s favorite.” Ingrid scowled at me. “The guards will return before long. If you wish to speak your mind, you must do it now.”

I did not hesitate.

“Would you like to live more than a year?” I asked her under the light of the setting sun. “Even if it means defying the Nightlords?”

Ingrid pondered my bold offer for a few seconds before nodding firmly. Her eyes burned with resolve.

“I would like to live, if it is possible,” she confessed. “And I would like for my sister to escape this place too. Does my lord have a plan in mind?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. “But I won’t lie to you. The risks involved–”

“Pale before the certainty of a cruel death.” Ingrid scowled in cold anger. “I recall what the Jaguar Woman said. Our obedience is required, but it will never be rewarded. Astrid will suffer the same fate as my mother sooner or later. I won’t allow it.”

Her careful mask of composure had dropped, revealing the virulent hatred behind.

What did Chikal say again? Ah yes. A good daughter carries her mother’s grudges.

The Nightlords’ cruelty had made them yet another enemy. Instead of terrifying Ingrid into obedience, murdering Sigrun and laughing at her attempts at earning their favor only earned them her daughter’s disdain.

The guards returned before I could open my mouth and answer her. One of them had impaled Iztacoatl’s snake on the tip of his spear.

“Good work,” I congratulated the guards. “You have done well.”

“I am relieved,” Ingrid said with a fake sigh. “It was so close that I feared for my lord’s safety.”

Once again, she proved her sharp wits by providing me with the perfect excuse. Iztacoatl couldn’t blame me if my consort had acted out of surprise and concern. We returned to our walk afterward and pretended that this incident was nothing worth remembering.

“Whatever this year holds for us, my lord, I can promise you one thing,” Ingrid said evasively, carefully wording her sentences to leave them open to interpretation. “I will support you in all things.”

And like that, I had recruited another conspirator. One more driven and experienced than any other.

I briefly wondered if I should ask Ingrid about her mother’s hidden documents, but quickly decided against it. The risk of Iztacoatl intercepting the First Emperor’s codex was too great for the moment. I would question Ingrid after I successfully managed to distract my captor.

“My concubine Necahual has become my new favorite,” I said. “However, she is new to the duties that her position requires. I would appreciate it if you could guide and assist her.”

Ingrid studied my expression for a moment. I had no doubt that she could read my intentions: that I wanted her to cooperate with Necahual in building up a spy network that could replace that of her late mother.

“My lord is wise and caring,” Ingrid replied calmly. “Lady Necahual has shown me kindness in my sorrow. I shall endeavor to guide her on the proper path.”

Perfect, my spy network was nicely taking shape. The more my web of allies spread and the more interconnected it became, the greater my reach. It should only be a matter of time before it managed to gather information on Yoloxochitl’s garden.

My thoughts turned to what Chikal told me about the burden of power. I paid little mind to what would happen to me after defeating the Nightlords, but if I had to choose I would like to at least keep her, Eztli, Ingrid, and Nenetl in my life, whether as friends or consorts.

Ingrid had become an ally, or something even closer. It wasn’t an unkind feeling. I could get used to it.

“Beware of fondness,” the wind warned me. “Your foes sharpen their knives. Death will come for you in the guise of a friend. Beneath the skin, the faceless malice.”

It always found a way to spoil my mood.

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