Marcos couldn’t believe what he’d just heard from Veturia’s mouth. “I was just trying to free my soul from the weight of those terrible doubts. How could I know they would arrest him right after?” She justified herself. “Supposedly if I confess to the abbot …” “How could you, Veturia? How could you?” Marcos knew the abbot well. His presence made everything worse. Marcos had just returned from Valencia, where he was with Abu Mizrain closing on a good deal. He hadn’t even been able to sit down before his servant came over to tell him what had happened. She spoke to him nervously, stumbling. “Poor Master Diego! I feel so guilty for what’s happened. But put yourself in my place; what was I to think after what I heard and those strange things he was doing that afternoon with that magician. I imagined terrible things.” “Anyone who would think Diego is responsible for those people dying is an idiot, insane, and doesn’t know anything about him.
