Page 36 of Echoes of the Raven
VALERIA
“Craft a similar key for my youngest daughter, except smaller. She should match her sister yet know her place.”
Rey Simón Plumanegra (Casa Plumanegra) - King of Castella - 2 AV
After sitting with Nana and Jago, I meander through the palace, thinking about our conversation. More than once, I have to pause and shake myself as flashes of the different dreamscapes Calierin put me through flood my vision. It takes much effort to push them away. I must conjure images of happier times, when my family was whole.
It works, and I hope with time those awful few days will be erased.
However, there is another thought that keeps intruding and proves harder to dismiss: Rífíor is here, in the dungeons.
I tell myself I’m unable to stop thinking about him because he’s the only one who has the answer to all my questions, but I fear, deep inside, that there’s more to it, and I hate myself a little more for it.
Determined to keep my mind clear of him, I go in search of Renata, Amira’s new adviser. In my opinion, she’s a major improvement over Emerito—Renata used to serve as Father’s scribe, and she was always nice to everyone. I would never tell Amira that, though. She had a soft spot for the little man, and I should not disrespect the dead.
I head to Amira’s study and find guards posted at the door, a new development since Nido’s core rooms were always considered safe due to its concentric design, which traditionally only required protection in its outer ring.
When I enter, I still expect to see Father sitting behind his desk. The sight of Amira is incongruous in his place, and I suspect it will take a long time to get used to it.
My sister looks up from a document she’s reading. When she notices me, she sets it down, signs it with a flourish, and offers me a smile. Standing behind her, Renata takes the document and sets it on top of a large pile of parchments.
“Val, I’m glad you’re here.”And not in bed, her expression seems to add.
“I came for my Plumanegra key,” I say.
“Oh, yes, Renata will get it for you. I have a meeting with the council, and I’m already late.” She glances at the large clock in the corner and stands. She comes around the large desk in a hurry and pats my shoulder on the way out.
Renata offers me a sincere smile. “I’m so glad you’re home safe, Princess Valeria.”
“Thank you, Renata.”
She has beautiful brown skin as flawless as polished wood. Her eyes are the color of honey and her hair a mass of curls that frames her face and defies gravity.
“Let me get your key,” she says, though she remains by the desk, making sure all the documents are perfectly aligned and the quill is returned to its proper place. Once done tidying up, she walks to a tall cabinet with many drawers, a relic that has sat in this room for who knows how long.
I approach Renata, distracted by a portrait of Mother and Father on the opposite wall. It depicts their wedding day, portraying the immense joy of a couple destined to be united by fate.
“That is one of the loveliest portraits in all of Nido,” Renata says, pulling me back into the moment. She’s holding my Plumanegra key in one hand, the drawer from where she got it still open.
“I agree.” I extend my hand, and she offers me the necklace with the feather-shaped key hanging from it.
The key opens my nook in the family vault, which holds nothing at all. It’s not the contents of the strong box that matter, though. It is the necklace itself. Father gave it to me.
“Thank you,” I say, inspecting it.
“Adviser Suarez,” someone calls from the door.
Renata turns to the door, back straighter than any royal guard. “Yes?”
“The queen asked me to deliver a message. She says she needs the summer ledgers right away.”
“Certainly!” She rushes to one of the bookshelves, retrieves a hefty volume, and hurries out. At the threshold, she stops and glances back over her shoulder. “My apologies, Princess Valeria.”
I wave a hand. “Not to worry. I’ll show myself out.”
Renata is out the door with the messenger quick at her heels. I don’t envy either of them. Amira can be as demanding as Father. I smile fondly and begin to turn toward the door, but the contents of the still-open drawer make me pause. Frowning, I pull the drawer out a few more inches to reveal a row of Plumanegra keys held in velvet-lined boxes.
With a painful pang in my chest, I notice Father’s key. I recognize it immediately. It’s bigger than mine, the shank and bow carved into the shape of a raven’s claw. Tears blur my vision as I examine the other keys and read the names scrolled in their respective boxes. Julián Plumanegra, Jago’s father. Vicente Plumanegra, my grandfather. Margarita Plumanegra, my great aunt. The names keep going. Some boxes bear multiple names, indicating that more than one person held the key at various times. It’s a customary practice. When someone passes away, and the key is no longer needed, a new Plumanegra infant can inherit it.
