We stood before the priest below the altar of our Lord Hunahpu, the wind tugging at our white robes; she turned to me, “Do you love me?”
I returned her gaze and smiled, taking her hand in mine, “You know I do, my love, and I would go to the ends of the earth just for one smile from your lips.”
She looked down, but did not smile; then said, “But would you die for me?”
I fell to my knees and raised up my hands to her in imploring supplication, “Anapu, my life is yours. you know it is – why do you need to ask?”
She sobbed, tears flowing from her eyes, and turned to the priest nodding.
He raised his arm in blessing, the knife glinting in the golden Mayan sun.