Page 58 of Mistress of Bones
A tightening of De Guzmán’s jaw was the only reaction to his insolent tone. “Don’t tell her it’s me, and make it somewhere private.” She fixed him with her gaze. “Will you do it?”
Esparza met her eyes. “It’ll be the last thing I do for you, and only because your sister loved you.”
De Guzmán stood, put some coins on the table. “I count on your discretion. It must remain unknown I’m back in Cienpé. Surprise is… everything.”
Esparza called for more ale. “You have my word.”
“De Guzmán is back in town,” Esparza told De Anví as they strode along a busy street. Evening was falling, and the rushing of people hurrying home for supper hid their conversation.
De Anví’s steps didn’t slow, but his sharp inhale was audible. “How did you learn of this?”
“She asked for my help, on behalf of someone she’s met. A young woman, from the sounds of it.”
“Anyone we know?”
“I’m not sure yet. I couldn’t follow her.”
“You’re losing your touch,” De Anví admonished.
Esparza readjusted his rapier. “She must have new friends in town.She hasn’t touched her house or those closest to her, or been at the inns.”
“Something to do with the envoy to Valanje?”
“It’s too coincidental, but I don’t think so. Her business seems private.”
“Care to share?”
Esparza glanced De Anví’s way. He wore a dark waistcoat instead of his usual whites and golds—a concession he occasionally did when he didn’t care to be recognized—but his confident stride, his posture, was hard to hide. “Why not, I’m already damned to the Void. She seeks an audience with the Witch.”
De Anví frowned. “That cannot be good.”
“Wanted to make sure the Witch is still wearing Sío.”
“Not good at all. Have you contacted her?”
“Not yet.”
“Good.”
Esparza had never been able to tell what kind of thoughts ran behind De Anví’s severe countenance—like De Guzmán, he had spent too long in court, had become too adept at making a mask out of his face—but he admired De Anví’s guts for worrying about Nereida in the face of her coldness. But then, at least Nereida de Guzmán was alive. At least De Anví had hope.
She reminds me of Edine.
Damn De Guzmán and her attempts to assuage her guilt.
“Was that all?” De Anví asked.
“No.”
“Do I have to wring it out of you?”
“I’d hoped you’d allow me to retain some shred of professional integrity.”
“Integrity is for young lads aiming to be tabards. You and I lost ours long ago.”
Since it was well known Esparza shared this wisdom, he changed topics instead: “Do you ever wish we hadn’t found the king’s kidnappers?”
De Anví’s voice was heavy with sarcasm when he answered, “What do you think?”
