“No, Lord, I shall be very unhappy. But what does it matter? I am only a woman, and such is the lot of women.”
“Women, like gods and men, are also sometimes loved and adored, Quilla.”
She flushed at the words and answered:
“Ah! if that were so life might be different. But even if it were so and I found the man who could love and adore even for a year, for me it is now too late. I am sworn away by an oath that may not be broken, for to break it might bring death upon my people.”
“To whom are you sworn?”
“To the Child of the Sun, no less a man; to the god who will be Inca of all this land.”
“And what is this god like?”
“They say that he is huge and swarthy, with a large mouth, and I know that he has the heart of a brute. He is cruel and false also, and he counts his women by the score. Yet his father, the Inca, loves him more than any of his children, and ere long he will be king after him.”
“And would you, who are sweet and lovely as the moon after which you are named, give yourself body and soul to such a one?”
Again she flushed.