Page 22 of Echoes of the Raven
Heavy banging on the door jolts me out of bed. Before I know what’s happening, I’m on my feet, crouching and ready to pounce. My heart beats as fast as a frightened mouse. Amira is gone, and the fire at the hearth is reduced to embers.
“Princess Valeria,” a man’s voice calls outside the door. “Princess Valeria, open the door, it’s urgent.”
“A moment, please.”
I glance all around until I spot one of my robes draped over an armchair. Quickly, I slip it on under the faint glow of the fireplace.
“Princess, please hurry,” the man calls again.
“I’m coming.”
Hands shaking, I search the night table until I find a small dagger in one of the drawers. It isn’t the raven dagger Father gave me—someone took it from my luggage when we traveled to Alsur. However, this one fits perfectly in my hand, which is precisely why I hold on to it.
My heart hammers as I approach the locked door. “What do you want?” I demand.
“It’s your sister… she needs you,” he replies.
“Who are you?”
“Guardia Enrique Palacios. I was with you during your trip to Alsur, at the inn in Las Torres.”
I open the door a crack, bracing my foot against it. I recognize the young guardia’s face. He’s wide-eyed and pale, and so are the three other royal guards who stand behind him.
As I step out of the room, they move back in unison. The young guard notices the dagger in my hand with a quick flick of his gaze, then looks up again.
“You’d best come with us, Princess Valeria.” He extends a hand indicating the hall, and it feels more like an order than an invitation.
“What is the matter?” I ask.
“I will explain on the way.”
I can’t help but be wary. Orys played Emerito’s part flawlessly for weeks. Bastien posed as a royal guard for the same length of time. And I walked alongside them without barely a shred of suspicion. I must be careful, even if it feels stupid and unnecessary. I must be brave, too.
Tightening my hold on the dagger, I let my wariness morph into anger. I can’t let those two bastardos turn me into a coward, afraid to inhabit my own home. Taking a deep breath, I lift my chin and make my way down the hall. The young guard walks to my right, and the other three behind us.
“What is your name again?” I ask him, examining his black uniform closely.
He wears snug-fitting black trousers tucked into knee-high black boots, along with a black velvet doublet secured tightly by leather straps. A House of the Raven coat of arms—a raven with its wings outstretched over an intricate emblem—is sewn on his left breast. A standard-issue rapier dangles from his waist, completing the ensemble with precision. Nothing seems out of place.
“Guardia Enrique Palacios, Your Royal Highness.”
“Tell me, Guardia Enrique, where are we going?”
“The queen’s bedchamber.”
“Why?” My mouth goes bitter. I know this won’t be good.
“There is an intruder in the palace, and he has barricaded himself in the queen’s bedchamber, demanding to talk to you.”
I stop mid-step and catch my breath.
Guardia Enrique’s words are halting and embarrassed because… how could the royal guards allow such a thing to happen?!
I don’t have to ask who the intruder is. I know. And I also know how he got in. This was the niggling thought that tried to surface earlier when Amira kept saying we were safe. In the back of my mind, I knew we were not, but I was distracted when she said that the veilfallen were dead.
I let my guard down, dared to believe. I should have known better. Vermin like Rífíor don’t die easily. This ismyfault. I should have tried harder to figure out what that niggling thought was, and now…
Hastening my step, I resume walking. Soon, I’m running with only the thought of my sister’s safety in mind. When I get to her quarters, which reside in the heart of the palace, I run into a dozen guardias, all standing with their swords at the ready.
