Page 56 of Mistress of Bones
Miguel Esparza had fallen in love many times. With brunettes, with blondes, with coin, with liquor, and with more than a few cloaks. So, he was fairly acquainted with the feeling when it rose, unencumbered and glowing, at the sight of the young woman mounted on a fine horse carefully parting the busy street.
“Are you listening, Esparza?” asked his companion in their guarding duty.
“Not in the least,” answered Esparza, leaving their spot by the corner and making his way toward the newcomer. He readjusted his rapier, tugged on his gloves, and made sure his hat sat at the perfect angle.
The woman had stopped her mount while she looked around, her expression part apprehensive, part lost, but mostly excitement. Her midnight hair had been braided away from her face, and her tanned cheeks held the sun’s warmth as she bent to pat the horse’s neck. A straw hat hung forgotten from a ribbon around her neck.
A countryface, no doubt. Dressed in expensive breeches and a traveling brown cloak bearing De Guzmán’s family crest, but a countryface nonetheless.
“Hello there,” Esparza said, pausing by her side and offering his best smile.
Her gaze snapped to him. Wary at first, then relieved when she recognized the blue color of his tabard and the insignia sewn on to it. Esparza might hate the outfit, but he sure thanked it in times like this.
“Your first visit to Cienpuentes?” he asked, stepping closer and running a reassuring hand down the horse’s neck.
“Sá.”
When she said no more, he took off his hat and gifted her a bow. “I’m Miguel Esparza, proud member of the City Guard. May I ask what brings you to the capital?”
Her answering grin was nothing but magnificent. “I’ve come to make my fortune.”
He chuckled at the enthusiasm in her words. “A lofty cause, I see. If I may be of assistance? I couldn’t help but notice you seem lost. Are you in need of directions? I know the city well, as you can imagine. May I guide you to your destination? Is there anyone looking out for you and your future fortune?”
Her merry laugh filled the air, and Esparza’s heart picked up its pace. “Sá, there is. You’ve seen the crest on my cloak, you must know of my brother and my sisters—I am told they are quite popular. I am Edine, the youngest.”
He let out a laugh of his own. “Which of your siblings will you be staying with, then? Perhaps I can be of further assistance during your stay.”
“I’m staying on my own. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be my fortune, would it?” A hint of regret entered her voice. “I can’t imagine we’ll be meeting again. I know how busy the Guard keeps my brother. Although I’d be thankful for a general direction, and I do appreciate the offer.”
Esparza winked. “Don’t worry on account of my duties. I think we’ll see each other again, Edine de Guzmán.”
And they did.
THE PRESENT
Esparza studied his drink. Murky as usual in the low light of Casa Rojita. The only sign of the earliness in the day came from the fact it was less crowded than usual. His hat lay abandoned on the bench by his side, and he was wearing his blue tabard instead of simply his shirtsleeves or a doublet.
“Drinking already,” said Nereida de Guzmán, sliding onto his other side.
Esparza shrugged to cover his surprise. “‘Happy is the life of a drunken fool.’”
“‘For he knows not the Lord Death is upon him,’” De Guzmán finished for him. “So, it’s come down to the cups?”
“Brawls aren’t helping, and nobody will cross swords with me anymore.” Really, Esparza mused dryly, must he do the Lord Death’s job all the way through?
“Don’t try so hard for a couple of days. I’m in need of your services.”
“We didn’t expect you back for a while.”
“Plans change.”
“So they do, if you seek my help.” Esparza sent her a sly look. “I’ve never known you to be so desperate.”
De Guzmán smiled, and for a heartbeat she looked so much like Edine, his heart lodged in his throat. Same nose, same brow shape, same cheeks. Esparza sipped his drink to give his mouth something to do rather than cursing De Guzmán for intruding into his solitude.
“A year and a half ago,” De Guzmán said, “you got into the Royal Crypt to make sure the vials of the queen’s blood hadn’t been stolen, so they could be used to identify the child king.”
Esparza remained silent while one of the servers placed a cup of ale in front of Nereida. She eyed it, not with distaste or with curiosity.She was too good at hiding the former and had long lost any wish to feel the latter.
