Fall
February 1563
Cielo, mi Cualli Cielo,
We've sinned against my husband. I know what we are is no sin, but I've come to realize the great damage we've caused. This is a letter you'll never receive. The sisters won't hear of it. After so many months of paradise together, you and I, traveling the valleys and canyons of Mexico you must wonder why you haven't seen me. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't dying as well. Every time I think of you.
But there's something good you should know. (It's likely you'll learn the truth anyway. Word travels like flies at city market. But if one misses your ear you'll see from the inner eye of our beloved Grandmother of the Baths. I know you're very close.) In a whisper I'll tell it. I'm honored to carry our love in the form of a child. The convent is unaware at present, I've hidden what I can. But soon they'll know everything and place me in the chapel to repent. What will they do with her? This is my only concern. But an illicit child in a convent, what better place for her—I can only pray they'll think this way and not throw her out when she's left my breast.
This place needs a child. I'm certain she'll do it good, if only they allow it. Time will unfold this.
Ah mi cualli, how I long to hold our daughter between us and lay a kiss on your cheek.
Your love in this life and after Cualli,
María
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The Letters: Prequel to Cenquizqui the Novel
أدب تاريخيThe Letters The most intimate journey into the characters of Cenquizqui lies beneath the broken wax seal of The Letters. What they reveal is entirely dependent upon their relationship with the recipient. Gaze through their masks and discover t...
