After shaping the glittering “cloud” of glass back onto the table, Luzia lets it settle—then, stung by Gracia de Valera’s stare, she makes a petty display of control by casually reforming the dust into goblets again. The gesture is intentionally imperfect, meant as open defiance rather than artistry.

Antonio Pérez pushes through the crowd to meet her, accompanied by Don Víctor and Don Marius. A courtier formally introduces Luzia under a fabricated noble identity—“Luzia Calderón Cotado, of Casa Ordoño and Casa de Paredes”—and Luzia privately registers the erasure of her mother’s true name, Cana. Pérez probes how a “simple peasant” knows the constellations, and Luzia answers with practiced humility, claiming God guides her. Pérez demands her hands, confirms her rough scullion’s calluses, and declares that “the little nun” has made a big impression before moving on.

Hualit congratulates Luzia and warns that Gracia (“the Beauty”) will retaliate, while Don Víctor presses Luzia about the Pleiades. As the next performances begin, Luzia searches for Santángel in the crowd and worries he will recognize her lie and realize she read his correspondence. Luzia remembers the refrán from the letter she and Hualit puzzled out—a man is stronger than iron and weaker than glass—and how her humiliation and anger made the words leap into song, saving her onstage even as it may cost her Santángel’s trust.

Teoda Halcón, the Holy Child, performs by reciting a prophetic dream and then whispering something in Pérez’s ear. Pérez reels and repeats it as “a secret” his father told him on his deathbed, convincing the room of Teoda’s power; Teoda then warns that a storm is coming, and thunder and rain immediately strike the windows. Don Víctor grudgingly notes this is the kind of miracle the king will prize, while Hualit cautions that such gifts have brought others ruin.

Fortún Donadei, the Prince of Olives, follows by playing a vihuela with a melody that blends cheer with aching longing. As he bows the strings, small black birds appear near the ceiling, multiplying into a flock that circles and shapes itself to the music before rushing out of the ballroom as the final note fades. The crowd erupts into rapturous applause, and Hualit observes the room has fallen in love with Donadei—leaving Luzia to remind herself that admiration is not the point, and that only the miracles matter.