The Butterfly Box Read Online Free Page B

adventures she remembered, not the many months of drought. She watched him splash about with Rasta in the glittering water. The light caught the tips of the waves and the silk of his hair and if she hadn’t known better she would have thought he were a playful seal. She placed the box on her lap and ran her hand over the rough wooden surface. She wondered to whom it had once belonged. A shudder of anticipation careered up her spine at the thought of another magical story. She opened the box to the ringing of little bells and marvelled once again at the glittering gems that caused the butterfly’s wings to quiver.
     
    Finally, Ramon’s wet body sat down next to her on the hot sand to dry off in
    the sun. Rasta, unwilling to stop enjoying his liberty even for a moment, galloped up and down the beach, playing tag with the sea. Ramon was pleased his daughter liked the box. She deserved it. After all, Helena was right, he wasn’t a good father. Good fathers gave their children their time. He couldn’t be that sort of father. It wasn’t in his nature. He was a wanderer, a nomad. His mother used to tell him that children give according to what parents put in. Well, he must have done something right, for Federica loved him and her love showed all over her face. He cast his eyes out over the blue horizon and wondered how long he’d last on this shore before the itchiness in his feet got the better of him and the winds of new adventures blew outside his window to lure him away.
     
    Tell me the legend, Papa,’ said Federica. Ramon lifted his daughter between his legs so that he sat behind her with his arms around her body and his rough cheek against hers. They both looked into the mosaic of crystals and listened to the light clatter of tiny bells.
    This box once belonged to a beautiful Inca princess,’ he began. Federica gasped in delight. She loved his stories and nestled in closer, for she knew this one would be special. She kept the box open on the folds of her yellow dress, running her hands over the stones and turning it from side to side to watch the colours mysteriously change as if by magic. The Inca Princess was called Topahuay and lived in a palace on the hillside village of Pisac in Peru. The Incas were an ancient Indian civilization who worshipped the sun, Inti, and paid homage to their Emperor, the ruling Inca. Beneath the Emperor were the nobility, the “Capac Incas”, the true descendants of the founding Inca, Manco Ca-pac. Topahuay was a member of one of these ruling houses called panacas. She had smooth brown skin, a round open face, sharp green eyes and long black hair that she tied into a plait that fell down her back, almost to the ground. She was admired by everyone and all the young men of the nobility longed to marry her. But Topahuay was secretly in love with a man of lowly birth, a member of the yanakuna , a domestic class who served the panacas. A marriage between these two such distinct classes was unthinkable. But Topahuay and Wanchuko, which was his name, loved each other so fiercely that they defied the laws of their land and saw each other in secret. Sometimes Topahuay would disguise herself as a woman from the yanakuna and they would walk the streets unnoticed, hold hands away from the suspicious eyes of her relatives and even kiss when no one was looking. Now, Topahuay was only
    thirteen years old. You may think that is very young for a girl to be thinking of marriage, but in those days thirteen was the beginning of womanhood and her parents were scouring their society for a worthy husband for her. Topahuay felt trapped in a world of strict social codes with no escape. She knew in her heart that she would have to marry a nobleman and relinquish Wanchuko for ever. So Wanchuko decided to make her a box that was so unremarkable she would be able to take it with her wherever she went without attracting suspicion, but which contained a secret message within that only she would ever see, to remind