Page 37 of House of the Raven
“Why there?” Jago scratches his head, confused.
“Because there’s a secret passage there that will lead us out of the palace.”
“A secret passage? Since when are there secret passages in Nido?”
“Since always.”
“And how come I’ve only just learned of their existence?”
“Father told us to keep them a secret. I haven’t thought about them in ages.”
Jago huffs. “Just another reminder that I’m worse off than Cuervo in this family. If the palace were to catch on fire, at least he would be able to fly away while I’m consumed by the flames along with everyone else.”
“I would never let you burn, cousin.”
“I’m not so sure about that anymore.” He pauses. “How long have you known about the passages?”
“Since I was nine or ten.”
He throws his hands up in the air. “Saints and feathers, Val! Do you know the fun we could’ve had if you’d told me then? I feel cheated.”
He’s not wrong about that. It would’ve been fun sneaking out of the palace with him—not that we didn’t find other means to do it. But when I was a child, I would have never considered going against Father’s wishes no matter what. After Mother died, he was my hero. I looked up to him and sought his approval in everything I did. I felt starved for his attention when most of his time was devoted to Amira, his heir to the throne. If he had asked me to lunge into the sky from the top of Nido, I would’ve done it. So of course, I didn’t reveal the existence of the passages to anyone.
“Just be there at midnight,” I say. “And don’t let anyone see you.”
“Of course, I won’t. Did you forget who you’re talking to? I’m an expert at sneaking.”
“And I, your apt pupil.”
A smug smile stretches his lips. “I’m glad you recognize that. I’ll go pack.”
“I thought you had already packed.” We were going to leave the palace today, after all.
Jago shrugs. “I’m not ashamed to admit I unpacked with a sigh of relief.”
“I’m disappointed. How could you be relieved in any way after what happened yesterday?” I ask in a teasing voice. I know he likes his luxuries, but that doesn’t mean he’s not mourning Father’s death, too.
“Valeria Plumanegra, do you really need to ask that question? You know me better than anyone. You know my philosophy.”
“Of course,minimum effort unless it leads to comfort.”
“Precisely.”
With a shake of my head, I decide to leave it at that before he notices he’s abandoning his philosophy for my sake.
Upon returning to my bedchamber, I come to a halt at the wide-open door and take a second look in disbelief.
Servants rush to and from at Emerito’s command.
“No, no, no.” He picks a garment up from a large travel case, wrinkles his nose, and casts it to the floor. “No hideous leggings and tunics. I want the prettiest dresses and gowns only. At least seven of each.”
I step into the room, blood roaring in my ears. “What are you doing?”
Nose still wrinkled, Emerito gives me a sidelong glance. “Getting your luggage ready for tomorrow’s journey, of course.”
Five servants enter and exit my closet, rummaging through my belongings, leaving nothing untouched. I see they’ve already been through my vanity as well. In the guise of packing for me, Emerito is searching for the necklace. I have no doubt about it.
I want to yell at them to get out, want to let them know I won’t be going anywhere, but I manage to restrain myself. It would be unwise to do that. Instead, I’m tempted to walk away and save myself the headache, but that would also be inadvisable. The correct reaction here should be indignation, so that is what I deliver.
