Page 15 of House of the Raven
Juan Anguiano - Castellan Farmer - 1 DV
Five minutes later, I slip through a side door of the petitioner’s hall and search for my sister. She stands by the throne-like chair by the dais, getting ready to listen to grievances from Castellina’s denizens. Emerito Velez, her royal counselor, stands by the door, waiting for her signal to start letting people in. Father and Amira take turns listening to petitioners once a month. I’ve asked them to let me help, but they told me the people would feel slighted if they sentme. I don’t think they intended to make me feel irrelevant, but well… they did.
I march in her direction, grab her arm, and pull her aside.
“Did you, by any chance, instructhimto be an asshole?” I glance toward my assigned guard, who followed me in here but had the decency to stay by the door.
Amira frowns.
“Never mind.” I cross my arms. “I don’t want him.”
“We’ve been over this.” She glances toward the main door where Emerito waves impatiently.
“I don’t want him norneedhim,” I insist.
“Take it up with Father. Look, I’m busy. Is there anything else you need?”
I sigh. “Who is he? I’ve never seen him. He won’t even tell me his name.”
“His name is Bastien Mora. You’ve never seen him because he just graduated from the Academia de Guardias. He comes with the highest recommendation from General Cuenca, who always sends his best recruits to the Guardia Real. Guardia Bastien is said to follow orders quietly, and be shrewd with the sword. Now, I really need to get started.” She gestures toward the door where Emerito wears that annoyed expression that he displays like an emblem. He tugs his long beard for good measure.
I give her a pleading look.
She shakes her head.
My eyebrows draw together, and the question I really want to ask prickles at the tip of my tongue. I want to fling it forward like a slap.
What secrets are you and Father keeping from me?!
But this would be the worst time to ask. She has no time to answer. Feeling defeated, I pivot to walk away.
“Val,” Amira calls.
I glance back.
“Spar later?”
I want to saynoto be petty and hurt her feelings, but this is not her fault. I have no one else to blame but myself. Ihavebeen acting like a child, though not in the way Father means it. I have been allowing him to order me around as if I were not entitled to my own volition, as if he’s the only one who knows what is best for me. But that job doesn’t belong to him. Not anymore, and it is time I let him know that, even if it breaks his heart.
“Yes. I’d love to spar,” I say.
There might be more than swords involved this time, but I don’t tell her that.
With a loud croak, Cuervo lowers his head, gesturing toward the apple in my hand.
“You ate yours already, you glutton.” I use my dagger to cut a slice and stuff the piece in my mouth. It’s sweet and tart at the same time.
“Glutton,” he repeats, eying me this time.
“But the nerve! Who feeds you, huh?”
He hops from one talon to the other and stretches out his wings. “Val. Val. Val.”
“That’s right. So hush your beak or I’ll make quills from all your feathers.”
At the threat, he flies from the parapet up to a perch staked to the ground.
We’re in one of the east rooftop courtyards, waiting for Amira. There is a sparring area here, which we prefer, surrounded by small trees and flowerbeds full of rose and jasmine bushes. We are over one hundred feet off the ground, four stories of solid rock below us, and Castellina sprawls like a tapestry all around, its fringes ragged in the patchwork landscape. Nido is so massive that when I stand up here, I feel like a single blade of grass in a vast meadow, like a tiny bee inside a massive hive.
