In the aftermath of the wedding night assault, María lay awake beside Andrés de Guzmán, focusing on the ruby at her throat and the weight of Andrés’s hand on her stomach. She stared at the ceiling beams and remembered the veiled widow who once spoke of teas and tonics to bring on or prevent pregnancy. As the fire died and Andrés rolled away, María rose, dressed, and slipped into the corridor before dawn.

Guided by a stolen lamp, María reached the kitchen and examined the stored herbs despite being unable to read the labels. A cook surprised her, first mistaking María for a ghost, then addressing her as “mi señora” and asking if she was unwell. María replied that she was not yet unwell and did not wish to be, implying the need to prevent a pregnancy.

When the cook protested that the kitchen was not an apothecary, María asserted her authority and discretion, placing a coin on the counter to secure the cook’s help. The cook, clearly practiced, gathered specific herbs, measured them into a cup, heated water to steaming, steeped the mixture, and added a drop of honey to temper the taste.

María drank the bitter, earthy brew despite a cramp in her empty stomach, emptying the cup and feeling her muscles loosen in relief. When the cook reached for the cup, María seized the woman’s wrist and, in a low, almost gentle voice, threatened to cut out her tongue if she told anyone.

Having secured the cook’s silence, María returned to her room, climbed into bed beside Andrés, and slept soundly until dawn, having taken decisive steps to prevent a pregnancy from the assault.