Page 55 of House of the Raven
I incline my head to one side, demanding more, but Ynes seems at a loss.
“We ran into a small troop of Romani on our way here. Are you expecting a visit from them? They always offer good entertainment.”
“Romani do stop here every now and then,” she says, sounding less enthusiastic about this subject.
“Are they not welcome?”
“El Jefe considers them lawless.”
“And you? Do you think the same?”
She thinks for a moment, and I can tell she’s pondering whether or not to be honest. In the end, I think she decides on the former. “Some are, but that isn’t a trait exclusive to the Romani. There are many dons, lords, and kings who also partake.”
“Well spoken, Ynes. I couldn’t agree with you more. Thank you for the information.”
She inclines her head. “I will be back with dinner in an hour to give you time for your bath.”
“Perfect.”
As soon as she’s gone, I test every door and window. One door leads to a large empty closet, and the second one to a washroom. As I throw open the windows, I curse under my breath. Wrought iron bars cover them,leaving only a small gap toward the top, where the bars end in what look like spearheads. The windows face the inner courtyard, so why the bars? My eyes rove over the flowerbeds outside, then drift toward the windows beyond… windows without bars.
My stomach sinks. Maybe Father or Amira told Don Justo to expect a reluctant wife. I shake my head, not wanting to believe that they would willingly and knowingly put me in the charge of a man who would lock me up.
I rush to the door and test the handle. I sigh in relief when I find that it isn’t locked. Would it be locked if Don Justo was here? Will I still be a prisoner when he comes back and I refuse to marry him?
Securing the door from the inside, I decide that I don’t want to find out what that man will do. I will get out of this villa before he returns.
I take a quick bath and change into another tunic and a pair of leggings. My skin smells of roses and feels soft. I squeeze the dampness from my hair, enjoying how clean the strands feel.
Ynes comes back accompanied by a teenage girl carrying a tray with my dinner. The delicious scent of saffron and shrimp makes my stomach rumble.
“That smells amazing,” I say.
“I hope it is to your liking, Your Majesty.” Ynes guides the girl toward the door, ushers her out, and is about to leave too, but remains when I call her name. “What more can I do for you?”
“Can you tell me why my bedchamber is the only one with bars in the windows?” I ask, never taking my eyes off her face in order to examine her expression.
She seems to choke, and it takes her several hard swallows before she can answer. “I don’t know, Your Majesty.”
“Please, don’t lie.”
“It’s not a lie.” She closes the door and comes closer. “Don Justo had them installed a month ago. I don’t know why.”
A knot forms in my throat. A month ago?! Is it possible that Father knew then this would be my fate?
“Perhaps,” I say tentatively, “Alsur is dangerous, and Don Justo only aims to protect me?”
Ynes winces slightly, which makes me think this conjecture is wrong.
I shake my head and swallow thickly, fighting back the anger that rises inside of me. It is directed at my father.
The housekeeper moves closer still, and when she speaks, she does so in a whisper. “Don Justo is extremely jealous and overprotective. That may be the true reason.”
Her explanation makes sense, but her quiet delivery does not—not unless the jealousy and overprotectiveness she’s referring to is the irrational kind, what should instead be called mistrust and possessiveness.
“I think I understand.” I nod slowly, holding Ynes’s gaze.
She smiles, satisfied that she got her message across.
