Page 32 of House of the Raven
Ministra Eva Aquina, minister of war.
They all look haggard as if they haven’t slept all night, which I imagine they haven’t. I search the crowd for Guardia Bastien, but I don’t see him.
After eating my last slice of orange, I wipe my hand on my leggings and march toward Emerito.
When people notice me, they lower their heads and murmur their condolences.
Ministra Aquina steps in front of me and meets my gaze. She was Mother’s closest friend once, and she has always kept an eye on Amira and me, even if she is more adept at battle plans, infiltration, and whatever other things her ministry does.
“Valeria,” she takes my hand and drags me aside. “How are you holding up?”
Immediately, a knot forms in my throat. I fight it and manage to swallow it down. “I’m fine.”
She shakes her head. “This is a tragedy. Simón was so young. My deepest condolences. If there is anything I can do, you know I would move the heavens and the earth to help you. We are already doing everything we can to find that miserable sorcerer. Security has been reinforced at all of Nido’s gates, and guardias are raking the streets of Castellina as we speak.”
I’m tempted to suggest that she inquire about his whereabouts from Amira, but that might prove to be a mistake. I wouldn’t be surprised if my sister is counting on a direct accusation from me. It would give her the chance to fling an accusation of her own.Dynastic rivalry, she wouldclaim, then everyone would think me a traitor, hungering for the throne. I can’t take that risk.
So I simply say, “Thank you, Ministra Aquina.”
“You’re here,” Emerito says, noticing me for the first time. “Excuse us, Ministra Aquina, but Queen Amira is waiting for Princess Valeria.”
I nearly choke at the wordqueen. Up until last week, she was saying she wasn’t ready to be queen. Was she only lying in order to hide her true feelings? Was she yearning for the post all along?
Taken aback at the realization that Amira is expecting me, I walk forward. She must have sent someone for me, but they missed me since I left my bedchamber early.
Emerito rushes me into the council chamber, and I find Amira pacing the length of the long table that dominates the space. She is the only one there. The space is bathed in natural light, which comes from the high windows that flank the vaulted ceiling. At the far end, an imposing throne of polished mahogany stands upon a raised dais, the House of the Raven banner hanging above it.
“Your sister is here, Your Majesty.” Emerito bows even lower than he used to just yesterday, steps back outside, and closes the door.
Amira appears as haggard as the ministers in the hall. She has dark circles under her eyes, and her normally glowing skin is lackluster.
“Good, I thought it would take a thunderclap to rouse you,” she says.
“I slept well, so I got up early,” I say from across the table. “A clear conscience helps with that.”
She smirks. “I had a feeling you were going to be unpleasant.”
“You killed Father, what do you expect me to do? Knit you a scarf?”
“I thought for an instant you might be smart about this whole situation, but then I came to my senses. You have never been a sensible person, so why would you start being one now?” She waves a hand in the air, then smooths her sage court dress. It is opulent, the necklinelined with jewels and fine lace. “None of that matters now, anyway. I have something important to talk to you about.”
My breath catches.Is she going to ask me about the necklace?I do my best to appear nonchalant.
She goes on. “I’m afraid the life of leisure you envisioned for yourself simply cannot be. It turns out you still have a duty, the same one Father arranged for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your marriage to Don Justo Medrano can’t be swept aside.”
“I had already told Father and now I will tell you… I amnotgoing to marry that man or any other.” My words are firm and brimming with anger. Who does she think she is? She can’t force me to marry anyone. She only wants to get rid of me, ship me to a faraway province, where I’ll be less likely to uncover her treachery or challenge her right to the throne.
“What makes you think you have a choice?” she asks.
“There is always a choice.”
“I am your queen, Valeria, and you are my subject. You have no choice but to do what I command you.”
I lean over the table, placing my hands flat on its surface as I stare her in the eye. “Is this really you? If that sorcerer has some power over you, please give me a sign, sister.”
