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Inés felt her ears burn slightly with embarrassment.

Isabella plowed on nonchalantly. "Furthermore, I think your future children would appreciate being able to read their father's entire name instead of just a few letters."

It only took a few minutes for Isabella to correct the misshapen letters. Once done with this task, she began to stitch a simple outline of the rest of Cárcel's name so Inés could easily embroider over it.

Inés sighed inwardly in dismay. She had been proud of herself for producing some legible letters, but it appeared that others only perceived it as a bizarre-looking piece of cloth. Of course, she didn't consider embroidery a particularly important skill in life, but it was still disheartening to know that she had grossly overestimated the quality of her work.

She sat silently, finding that she had nothing to do and nobody to talk to. As Isabella and Juana quietly talked amongst themselves while salvaging the handkerchief, Isabella's lady-in-waiting approached Inés and handed her something.

It was a long, narrow strip of blue silk embroidered with a navy thread that was slightly darker than the fabric, as if Isabella wanted it to be discreet. Noting that the embroidery appeared to be incomplete, Inés read the words carefully. "The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night." (Psalm 121:6)

It was exactly the kind of phrase that she would expect Isabella to embroider. She was shocked by how perfect the letters were, as if they had been printed on the silk.

"And this is... incomplete?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes, my lady," the lady-in-waiting responded.

Inés blinked, then said abruptly, "Isabella... I do not wish to give him the handkerchief anymore."

"Pardon?" Isabella said, sounding confused.

"I cannot believe you only described that thing as bizarre." Something like "a terrible eyesore" would have been more appropriate, Inés thought.

"What is the matter?"

"I was so foolish, thinking I was worthy of using that thread and needle when I am living in the same era as you," she muttered with a hint of despair.

"You're hyperbolizing..." Isabella trailed off, looking a bit bewildered.

"My lady," Juana interjected carefully, "while I agree with the last part... I do not believe it's appropriate to say that you were 'using' the thread and needle."

She pointed out that Inés was shamelessly overestimating herself once again.

Juana's words did nothing to help quell Inés's disappointment. Her handkerchief left much to be desired, even though she still considered it a superficial custom that was based on a foolish superstition.

She sighed deeply. "I almost made a fool of myself, but now I know to keep that thing away from Cárcel. Please, give it back."

"I understand it must be embarrassing, seeing him nearly faint from joy every time he is in your presence, but..."

Inés remained resolute despite Isabella's consoling words. "He is not getting that handkerchief. Your embroidery is wasted on that fabric. Let me have it back."

"Just give me a moment," Isabella said as her fingers began to move even faster. "They are two completely different things. Yours is a handkerchief, while mine is meant to be tied to his baldric."

The exchange made Inés feel like an unsympathetic employer who was nagging her own mother-in-law. She said with a small sigh, "I just know that mine will look laughably bad compared to yours. I don't believe in making meaningless efforts, Isabella."

"Don't say that. He will surely have this framed," Isabella responded comfortingly.

"I wouldn't be worried, my lady. Nobody would compare them in the first place," Juana chimed in, her insolent comment thinly disguised as a consolation.

Inés scowled slightly as she watched Juana run her mouth, telling Isabella about all the little things that Inés had done and said. How did Perez produce such a menace? she thought glumly. She only chose to remain silent because Isabella seemed to be enjoying Juana's ceaseless chattering, and she knew Juana was acting in her best interests after all.

Finally, Isabella handed her the handkerchief. "Now you can simply follow the outline."

"I suppose..." Inés trailed off, her face awestruck as she examined the handkerchief. It looked completely different from before, although it was still an eyesore compared to Isabella's masterpiece.

Isabella had even used the needle to mark the place so Inés could pick up where she had left off.

Juana playfully whispered to Isabella, "It seems like she has no qualms about receiving your help. She refused my assistance, saying that it would lose its enchantment."

"Enchantment?" Isabella said with a surprised smile. "Since when did she believe in such things?"

"That's precisely what I said! Then she told me that it was a socially accepted superstition, and that other women shouldn't even touch it, just to be safe."

Ignoring Juana, Inés began to embroider the handkerchief in an attempt to match some of the effort Isabella had put in.

After a moment, Isabella commented, "You may be moving the needle too much, Inés. Try to minimize your movements, if you can."

"Like this?"

"Ah... not exactly, but that is better."

Inés's eyes were narrowed in intense concentration, although she had previously stated that she didn't believe in making "meaningless efforts". Isabella let out a soft chuckle as she watched, even though the needle was dramatically departing from the outline she had placed on the fabric.

Threading the needle through the handkerchief, Inés said, "Isabella. I am planning on traveling to Calztela after the ceremony."

"But Cárcel is leaving in the middle of the ceremony. Are you going to see him off to the naval port, then?"

Inés nodded, still squinting in concentration. "Indeed. I will surprise him when he is least expecting it."

"Is that when you're giving him the handkerchief as well?"

"Yes. I'm planning on finishing it during the carriage ride there."

Isabella frowned in genuine concern. "I would advise against it. You'll end up hurting your delicate fingers."

However, Inés brushed her concern aside and asked, her voice tinged with excitement, "Do you think Cárcel will be happy when he receives it?"

"As I said, I believe he will burst into tears immediately."

"Well, I'll have to complete the embroidery so he can cry over it," she responded, her hands moving tirelessly.

Isabella chuckled under her breath. "You could have achieved that goal with what you had in the beginning."

Inés's eyes, fixed on the handkerchief, gleamed with purpose. "I am determined to see tears fall from his eyes."

Isabella noticed Inés's gaze turning intense, and her mouth parted on a surprised little gasp. "Goodness... You really do look quite determined."

"I can simply wipe his tears with this handkerchief," Inés murmured, as if she was burning with the desire to make use of her project.

For a long time, Isabella watched her clumsily embroider the handkerchief while Juana and the duchess's lady-in-waiting chatted time away.

Finally, a priest walked up to them. "The Archbishop has left the prayer room," he said politely. "Please allow me to lead you to the audience chamber."

Isabella sprung to her feet, holding the box in her hands. Her movements were so prompt that Juana reflexively snatched the embroidery frame from Inés.

"Let's go, Inés," Isabella said.

"Of course." Inés followed Isabella as she briskly walked out of the room, gazing at her mother-in-law worriedly.

On the opposite side of the door they had entered through was a corridor that led straight outside. The Archdiocese of Mendoza was in the shape of a rectangular castle, and it was framed on the inside by these corridors. At the center was an enormous garden that only received half of the light that the sun had to offer, and birds chirped in the trees planted there. But Inés didn't get the chance to admire the beauty of the diocese, as she was preoccupied with supporting Isabella's swaying body, sighing every time Isabella pushed her away gently.

They only reached the doors of the audience chamber after walking along the long corridor and turning a corner. Isabella checked her dress multiple times even though it was already perfectly neat and did the same for Inés as if she were her young daughter. Then she proceeded to open the box very carefully and inspected what she wanted the Archbishop's blessing on.

Inés briefly turned around and glanced at the garden. Her gaze swept over the swaying branches and noted the way the sun only illuminated the tops of the trees, then moved to the corridor beyond the garden. In that moment, the corridor flooded with sunlight.

Anastasio was there, wearing the black, priestly garments, just as he had when she had seen him on Mercedes Street. His silver hair was neatly combed back, but he looked quite young in comparison to the high priest who was talking to him.

He's here... but why? How? Inés's lips fell open slightly, as if she didn't have the strength to keep them closed. She forced herself to remain composed, fearing she would call out to him even though she didn't know who he was. A name that she could not utter was on the tip of her tongue.

She frantically told herself that she couldn't offend him or act insolently in any way. She had to keep her hatred hidden at all costs. But it was possible that she would never find him again if she let him slip away this time.

Her heart threatened to burst through her ribcage, and her throat tightened. A part of her wanted to scream so that he would look at her, yet she couldn't bring herself to speak. Anastasio... It was just one, simple word, but it sunk to the bottom of her chest where it lay quietly.

Behind her, the door opened. "The Archbishop will receive you now," a voice said.

However, she stood rooted to the spot, unable to turn her gaze away from the corridor.

Isabella glanced at her, looking puzzled. "Inés?"

"Please, go ahead. I will follow shortly," she managed to say. It felt like there were giant hands on her shoulders, holding her there so that she couldn't go toward Anastasio or even turn away. A few seconds passed, but it felt like hours. She stiffly reached out to grab Juana's arm.

"My lady?" Juana said, puzzled.

"I want his name."

"Pardon...?"

"You must find out his name, no matter what you have to do for it."

Juana tilted her head, still confused. "What do you-"

"He's the one who... assisted me on Mercedes Street," Inés spat.

Immediately, Juana froze in terror.

Inés silently stared at the priest for another moment. Just as their eyes met, she turned sharply and entered the audience chamber.