Page 44 of House of the Raven
I don’t ask what she heard. I know she has been told the lies everyone else has, but I wonder what she would say if she knew Amira is involved.
“Not getting enough sleep, I see.” She points toward the circles under my eyes.
I always stay up late into the night, reading or working on crafts. She hounds me about not getting enough rest. If only my concerns today were as simple as they were a week ago.
“But now, I understand the reason. Why don’t you sit?” She points to the armchair opposite her.
I do as she says. The heat from the fireplace is stifling, the kind I allow in my bedchamber only in the dead of winter. She rocks gently, her fingers flexing on her lap. They are red, every joint nubby with arthritis. I know it hurts her, though she doesn’t complain.
She sighs heavily. “I haven’t seen Amira. How is she taking all of this?”
Many sharp answers fester on my tongue, but I hold them back. Instead, I say, “I’m not sure. She’s very busy.”
“Poor child. No time to grieve for her father.” Nana shakes her head. “If you talk to her, tell her to come see me.”
For the first time, I wonder about what Amira might be feeling if she’s under the spell of that miserable sorcerer. Does she know what’s going on around her? Is she actually grieving behind that mask of cold indifference?
Oh, sister! I’ll free you. I promise.
“I’m not sure I’ll have a chance,” I say. “I’m leaving, and I’ve come to say goodbye.”
She frowns. “Goodbye? Why?”
Gossip travels like the wind in Nido, but it rarely reaches Nana. Everyone knows she despises it.
“Amira is sending me to the Aldalous province. Alsur to be precise.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “I thought that with your father’s passing, you had escaped thatfate.”
“I thought so too, but Amira told me some facts that Father left out. Don Justo is threatening to join forces with Los Moros if he isn’t given a chance to elevate his name through a royal marriage.”
“Oh!” She rests a hand on her chest. “I am so sorry.”
When I was little, I used to talk to Nana about marrying a handsome prince whom I loved with all my heart. I wonder if she’s thinking about that innocent girl right now and if that’s the reason her eyes now brim with such profound pity.
But I don’t want her to worry, so I say. “It’ll be all right, Nana. I’m happy to do my duty.”
She reaches out and pats my hand. “I am so proud of you, my little Valeria. You have grown into a remarkable woman. You are willing to sacrifice for the welfare of the people of Castella. When Los Moros last occupied the kingdom, there was much suffering. They persecuted everyone who would not relinquish their religion for theirs.”
My lower lip trembles, and I bite it to keep it from giving me away. I’m nothing like what she suggests. Even if what Amira says is true, I will not marry Don Justo. I don’t possess a selfless heart. I’m not the kind of person who can sacrifice everything for the well-being of people I don’t even know. That was never meant to be my path.
I stand up abruptly and press a kiss on Nana’s wrinkled forehead. She smells of her lavender soap, a scent so familiar and comforting that I have to clench my teeth not to fall to my knees in another fit of tears.
Taking a couple of steps back, I put on my bravest expression. “I hope to be back soon, Nana. I would never let marriage keep me from seeing you.”
She smiles gently, and her eyes tell me she won’t blame me if I can’t come back soon. She knows it might not be up to me once I’m married. Don Justo could easily turn out to be controlling, selfish, jealous, or any number of things that awful husbands sometimes are. The worst partis that the scant knowledge I possess about this man tells me he will be precisely that kind of husband.
An hour later, Jago and I walk out of the palace through a door by the stables. As soon as we exit, I notice one of the big carriages, led by two white horses, with my luggage already strapped to the top. Six guards stand behind the carriage, already mounted. One of them is Guardia Bastien. They’re dressed in blue jackets, not the black of the Guardia Real.
Saints and feathers! Really?
I stare at him, wishing my eyes could shoot little daggers.
Cuervo shakes his feathers, perched on a nearby roof, which makes me notice him. Whenever we leave Castella, he always follows. I like knowing he’s around.
Emerito is already inside the vehicle, waving a fan in front of his face. I refuse to ride with him. Absolutely not. I start toward the stables. I’m taking my mare. No question about it.
“Valeria,” my sister calls behind me, and I’m surprised to see her, and out of the palace, wearing a dress far more regal than she normally does. As she comes closer, she looks Jago up and down. “Come to say goodbye?”
