Summer 1560
Dear Xochitl,
His blood purity washes out his conscience which is his only source of actual purity. You know of whom I speak—the same blood runs through his son, yet I'm afraid of a day where my mother's blood peeks out. Vasco is still in the crawling age and you've noticed he's the little version of his father, but who's to say a single black hair on his sandy head won't alter everything? The way his father speaks plants frightening phantoms deep within me pohtli. They're oooing in my ear.
Your friend of preoccupations,
María
YOU ARE READING
The Letters: Prequel to Cenquizqui the Novel
Historical FictionThe 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...
