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***

Inés continued to obsessively embroider the handkerchief inside the swaying carriage. Juana lamented that she was stabbing her fingers more often than the cloth, but her words fell on deaf ears. Inés's determination was unyielding, even if it bordered on folly.

Though the embroidery had been disastrous from the start, Cárcel's name had at least been legible thanks to Isabella's careful outlining. But now, it resembled a battlefield of thread and frustration. Her embroidery, chaotic even when done on a comfortable sofa, had no hope of improving in a rattling carriage.

The ride had been smooth when crossing the well-paved roads of Mendoza, but it turned jarring the moment the carriage ventured into the mountain ridges with rocks littered everywhere. Even the lantern suspended from the ceiling swung wildly with each jolt. On any other day, the coachman would have skillfully steered around the bigger rocks on the road, except today was different. Inés had demanded that they travel at the fastest pace possible. Time and again, she threw open the small window facing the coachman's bench and chided him for going too slow.

She had done this to herself, in other words. Though the roads leading to Calztela were reasonably maintained for swift military transport, it didn't mean that a rapidly moving carriage was a good place for one to do embroidery. And after the previous night's rain, puddles had formed here and there, threatening to trap the wheels at every turn. The coachman really was doing his utmost to meet Inés's impossible demands.

Even as she continued to stab herself in the fingers, Inés waved off Juana's fretting. But when the needle finally plunged under her fingernail, she slammed open the window and snapped at the coachman, asking whether he was doing this on purpose.

The poor man quickly shook his head in denial, his eyes welling up with tears.

"Keep your eyes on the road!" she spat before throwing the window closed again.

The knights riding alongside the carriage echoed her orders. But as soon as Inés sat down and took up her needle again, the carriage rattled once more.

Juana, her chin resting on her hand, commented, "Have you noticed?"

"What, the pain?" Inés retorted, wiping the droplets of blood on her fingers off against her dress skirt and getting back to her embroidery.

"The more you open that window and chide the coachman, the rougher the ride is getting."

Inés chose not to reply.

"Oh dear... That handkerchief is a mess already, and he hasn't even seen it yet."

"Cárcel's name is legible, isn't it?"

"I meant the bloodstains, my lady."

Only then did Inés notice that a few drops of blood had seeped into the handkerchief, making her frown.

Her gaze swept over the bloodstains decorating her husband's name, which already looked rather haphazard starting from the last two letters of "Escalante." The handkerchief now looked more like an ill omen than a protective charm.

When Juana had first seen Inés draw blood, she had grabbed her hand and tried to stop her, but to no avail. Inés had continued to swat her away like an irritating fly; Juana had given up, telling her mistress to go ahead and pierce every one of her fingers. But now that Inés had managed to stab herself under her fingernail and because the bleeding wouldn't stop, Juana moved to sit next to her and covered her finger with a cloth and put pressure on it.

"I didn't realize I'd bled enough to stain the handkerchief," Inés murmured.

"You're still bleeding," Juana pointed out.

"It didn't bleed this much before, no matter how many times I pricked myself. And if it did, it stopped right away."

"That's because you didn't stab yourself that hard."

Inés hesitated for a moment before muttering, "It would be better not to give him this, right?"

"Why not? You went so far as to draw blood."

"Well... Wouldn't the sailors laugh at Cárcel if they saw this?"

"Do you really think His Lordship will show this to anyone? He would consider it too precious to be seen by anyone but himself," Juana said with a chuckle.

Inés lifted the handkerchief up with her free hand and narrowed her eyes at it with a doubting expression. "Not because it's too embarrassing to show anyone?"

"Well, I'm sure others would not feel the same, but... Your husband will be delighted to receive this, my lady. Just as Duchess Escalante said, he will most certainly have it framed and passed down as a family heirloom."

"You're right... My husband does have very low standards. He would likely even shed tears."

The bloodstains now seemed like a good addition. They almost made the handkerchief look a little like a voodoo charm that protected its owner in ominous ways.

"Besides, it's stained with his wife's blood, so he might want to show if off. Who else would even think to put blood on a gift?"

Juana let out a small sigh. "My dear lady, you make it sound more like the keepsake of someone who died."

"He will be moved to tears whenever he looks at this handkerchief on board." Inés sank into a reverie, imagining a future scenario, and finally went back to her embroidery after Juana released her hand. "I wish I could add some information on the bottom explaining that this was done inside a moving carriage so that no one misunderstands my intentions."

It was uncharacteristic for Inés to be thinking about making such excuses. Obviously, she was convinced that her husband would indeed turn this into a family heirloom.

"You're not thinking about embroidering that explanation too, are you?" Juana asked.

"I'll have you do it once Cárcel returns, of course. I'm never doing this again," Inés declared through gritted teeth, hurriedly getting back to work.

***

"Oh my goodness! What a wonderful surprise!" Arondra greeted Inés with open arms.

Inés smiled at her. "It's been a while, Arondra."

"I couldn't simply go to bed when His Lordship has not yet returned, so I was waiting in Don Alfonso's room, staring out the window-then I saw the carriage approaching in the distance. I couldn't believe my eyes, but it was true! You really are here!"

"How have you been?"

"I have been just fine. If I'd heard that you would visit, I would not have left the house in this state."

"Our little house is as perfect as ever." Inés gave Arondra a friendly hug before stepping in through the front door.

Juana stood there for a moment in shock. She had only heard about how small the Calztela residence was secondhand. Shaking her head, she hurried after Arondra and Inés.

"Lieutenant-oh, right, he's now a captain!" Arondra exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Our honorable captain went to the opening celebrations at the naval headquarters. He was summoned as soon as he arrived in Calztela from Mendoza. He did not even have the chance to stop by the house first."

"I did see the headquarters all lit up on my way."

"He would be delighted to hear that you have arrived, my lady! Shall I send José to fetch him at once?"

"No, that's all right."

"But he will be leaving to war tomorrow morning! You should be spending these last few hours in each other's arms. He won't get anything but a hangover from staying there any longer."

"It's fine. This is for the best, actually," Inés replied, taking the handkerchief in an embroidery hoop from Juana.

Inés had considered having the carriage stop at the foot of Logorño Hill so that she could finish her embroidery, but she had decided that she wanted to see him right away. She didn't mind him not being home yet, since she would be there to welcome him back.

Arondra's gaze landed on the handkerchief.

"Goodness, what on earth..."

"It's a gift for Cárcel."

"You did it yourself? Really?" Arondra asked in disbelief, snatching the embroidery hoop out of Inés's grasp despite herself to take a closer look. "Oh my, it looks like a child made it. How adorable! It must be a trend in Mendoza to make the letters look more abstract."

"Yes, I suppose so..."

"You are so talented, my lady. I cannot even recognize these letters with my old eyes. The trends of Mendoza really are strange!"

Juana let out a small giggle as Inés maintained a serious expression. She took the handkerchief back before ushering the two of them out of the drawing room.

Thanks to her clever plan to lighten her workload by making the letters very small, she only had one letter left to embroider. Inés quickly resumed her stitching with great concentration. Arondra came by a few times, bringing her tea and chattering on about how charming Juana was, but Inés carried on and managed to finish her work. It was just in time for her to hear that Cárcel had arrived. It felt like destiny.

She decided to hide away the handkerchief and give it to him in the morning. She would wake up before him and place it on his pillow. The fact that she still hadn't forgotten about the moment he had done this to her had stirred up her competitive streak.

Cárcel tended to instinctively reach out to check on her as soon as he woke up in the morning, so he would be able to see her gift first thing. Perhaps it would be better to wake him up earlier because the gift might move him both to tears and arousal. Despite the crisis House Escalante was going through-or rather because of it-they needed to produce an heir. Inés thought about this last night with her husband quite strategically, when, in all honesty, she simply wanted to spend as much time as possible with him.

She imagined their obligatory and solemn yet very lewd intercourse in the morning before she pictured his face breaking into a wide smile at receiving the handkerchief. Her heart lurched. She let out a deep breath and rose to go greet her husband.

Just then, Cárcel entered the room, panting slightly. "Inés?" He blinked. He had run here as soon as he had heard the news of her arrival, not bothering to take care of his horse.

Forgetting all about the plans she had made, Inés beamed and hugged him, the embroidery hoop still in her hand.

"How did you actually make it here?"

"I told you I would."

"Wait a moment-I haven't even washed my hands."

She didn't seem to care as she quickly pressed a kiss against his lips. He tilted his head as if to pull away, knowing the scent of wine on his breath would repel her. He had never seen her take a glass of wine before meals.

"I-I've had wine too," he said.

"How much?"

"A glass in exchange for leaving early."

"In case I was here?"

"Yes."

"Then open your mouth, Cárcel."

Inés grabbed him by the chin and shoved her tongue between his parted lips. The kiss was so deep and messy that it was hard to tell whether it was meant as a reward or simply a way for her to fulfill her own desires. Cárcel leaned down closer to return the favor until his knee reached the sofa where she had been sitting. Just as his knee buried itself deeper into the seat cushion, he felt something press against his knee.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Oh." Inés looked down at the embroidery hoop he took from her grasp and remembered her plan that had already been ruined. "Your handkerchief."

"And this?"

"My blood."

"What about this?"

"It's your name."

Cárcel Escalante de Inés, it read. He drew his fingers over the fabric clamped in the hoop, avoiding the letters as though he didn't dare touch them. She pulled him in closer as if to tell him to look at it later.

But he raised a hand and blocked her lips with the back of his hand, not even looking at her.

"I did think you would shed tears, but..." she murmured. "You're really crying."

Cárcel nodded, covering his face with his free hand. Inés chuckled and straightened up to place a kiss against the back of his hand.