Page 16 of Echoes of the Raven
If she only knew how my foolish desire for a man I scarcely knew ended up complicating things further.
She goes on. “We found Emerito’s body in a seldom-visited dungeon.”
I gasp, realizing that I hadn’t given the real Emerito a second thought—not that I’d had the time or the mental ability to process everything that has happened since the engagement ball. Unbidden, the figure of another person emerges from the recesses of my mind: Don Justo. The last time I saw him he was sprawled on the floor after facing the veilfallen at the ball and losing. Did he survive?
“The poor man,” my sister says. “He paid unjustly for being my closest adviser.” She pauses and holds my gaze. “I hesitate to bring this up right now, but I have tried to find Guardia Bastien. I have been unable to locate him.”
I swallow thickly and stare at my hands on my lap.
“There is no record of him at the Academia de Guardias. Few can even remember him, and I have questioned everyone in Nido. Not even his fellow guards can tell me much about him. Jago… he told me that you and the guardia…”
I close my eyes and inhale deeply, the heat of shame rising from my neck to my cheeks. I don’t want to admit to anyone the magnitude of my mistake, but Amira needs to know. I armor myself with courage and speak.
“The… the reason you can’t find any record of Guardia Bastien is because he… wasn’t a real guardia. He was an impostor.”
“An impostor?” She considers. “Was he working with Orys?”
I shake my head, fighting back tears and the aching knot in my throat.
“Val,” she says in a sorrowful breath, “I’m so sorry.” She puts a hand on my shoulder for comfort.
Abruptly, I stand and walk out of the bath chamber, my hair only half combed. I don’t want Amira’s pity. I would prefer her anger, wouldrather hear her say I was stupid and naïve and had no business sleeping with a guard.
I walk to the fireplace and stand in front of it. The maid is gone, and the logs already glow and warm the room. A tray with food sits on a table surrounded by four armchairs. Amira comes out and offers me the comb. I take it, and she sits in one of the armchairs.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” I say. “But it’s the most idiotic thing I’ve ever done.”
“Anyone in your position would—”
“No, Amira, you don’t know how well he played me. You don’t know the enormity of my mistake.” I turn and face her, determined to own my blunder with dignity, if that is even possible. “Bastien Mora is Rífíor of the Veilfallen,” I blurt out.
She seems unable to wrap her mind around it at first, then her expression twists in outrage. “A veilfallen! Here in Nido. How?!”
“Notanyveilfallen. Rífíor, the leader.”
She frowns, understanding slowly dawning on her. Rífíor. River. A slight mispronunciation of the bastardo’s name.
“Now, do you understand?” I ask. “He used me. I fell for his lies. I was reckless and compromised our situation with a person I knew nothing about—only because he was handsome, and I felt… I felt…star bursts.” I lay a hand on my chest to show her where those stupid fluttery feelings took root.
I can see disappointment and understanding warring in Amira’s expression. She wants to yell at me and console me at the same time, but she can’t decide which one should take the prize. I can tell her though. I know what I deserve.
“Somehow,” I continue, “he infiltrated our home and fooled everyone. He came with a recommendation from General Cuenca himself and gained access to Father, to you, and me. He could’ve killed us all if he hadn’t been so obsessed with findingThe Eldrystone.”
Her face is growing red, and her jaw is clenched tightly. I’m tipping the scales, fueling her desire to yell at me.
“He was here for weeks, gaining knowledge that he can use against us,” I add, hoping to finally set her off.
Instead, my words defuse her anger, and a smile slowly stretches her lips. “No, he can’t.”
I frown, unable to understand the gleam in her eyes.
She rises from the armchair and stands in front of me. “You don’t have to worry about any of them anymore, my dear sister, because they’re all dead by now.”
8
RÍFÍOR
“Like Calierin, I begin to doubt our leader.”
