Page 95 of House of the Raven
The realm of the Plumanegras stretches far and wide, a legacy that has endured for nearly four centuries. The fae magic, that ancestral gift, has been instrumental in maintaining our enduring dynasty, a rarity among neighboring kingdoms. While elsewhere, disputes, internal strife, uprisings, and conquests create new kingdoms in the blink of an eye, Castella is different in this regard. But what if we have reached the end of our road?
It must have been what Father was worried about.
Since we lost our espiritu, things have changed. There are the veilfallen, deep within the kingdom’s womb, and Los Moros to the south, hoping to reclaim what was once theirs.
Now, our king is gone, and his daughter, his replacement, may not be the person he hoped. And even if she is, perhaps she’s not strong enough to take his place—not if she has fallen under the influence of Orys’s malevolent powers. Could it be that the task falls to me now?
Anxiety clenches my throat at thevery thought.
A sudden noise from behind startles me, yanking me out of my reverie and grounding me in the present. I whirl, clearing my throat and the choking sensation that nearly stole my breath away.
Of course, the choking sensation returns as I see who stands behind me: Guardia Bastien Mora.
I wait for him to say something as I stare at his stern face, but not a word comes out of him.
“Do you want something?” I demand.
“Your sister sent me to watch over you.”
Now, it’s a laugh that chokes me. “You can’t be serious. I’m sorry. You might have been a top cadet at the academy, but as a personalguard, you’re a failure.”
The satisfaction that floods me when his mouth twists and a muscle ticks in his jaw is very… well… satisfying.
I walk closer and stop a few feet away from him. I thrust my chest forward and put on a self-important air. These things don’t come easy to me, and I feel extremely awkward. However, I’m hoping practice will make me perfect.
Bastien’s dark eyebrows draw together as he scans me, his eyes subtly sweeping over my attire, and even though it happens quickly, I don’t miss the glance directed towards my décolletage.
I smile inwardly.
“Pray, do enlighten me, why would my dear sister burden me with such a disappointment?” I circle around him as he remains steadfast, his gaze seemingly fixed on some distant point as though I’ve vanished into thin air. Still, I sense there is much he’d like to say.
“Are you in league with her?” I dart around his left flank to peer into his face and gauge his reaction, but it remains as inscrutable as ever.
I continue pacing around him, arms behind my back. There’s a small ledge to his right, a three-inch brick barrier that encircles the flowerbeds.I step on it and walk along its length. Balancing, I go from one end to the next, and on the way back, I stop and face him.
His profile captivates me, and I’m struck by his sheer perfection. His jawline is impeccably chiseled and angular. The bridge of his nose rises gracefully before descending to a subtly upturned tip. His brow and chin exude strength, and his lips are neither too thin nor overly full, striking the perfect balance. Wavy black hair is swept back from a slight widow’s peak, resembling the texture of soft silk.
My foot slips from the ledge. I yelp and throw my arms out, but I know I’m going to end up ensconced in the rosebush behind me. I’m just on my way down, but I’m already mortified.
Bastien’s strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls me upright. As he sets my feet on the ground, I find myself standing against his hard body, his arms embracing me tightly.
He’s looking down at me. I’m looking up at him. Something passes between us. I don’t know what it is but it feels slightly like… recognition.
But that makes no sense.
Abruptly, he lets me go and takes a step back. “Dainty shoes don’t seem to suit your usual agility, princess. It seems I don’t have to worry about any escape attempts while you’re dressed in this manner.”
I glare at him, nostrils flaring. Clenching my fists, I take a moment to ease my temper, and when it passes, I know what I need to do.
“You’re absolutely right,” I respond, forcing a smile with that air of haughtiness that makes me feel like a harpy, even though this man deserves every bit of my disdain. “But that isn’t the only reason you and my sister shouldn’t worry. You see, I’m back for good. As I told Queen Amira, I’ve come to my senses. I’m here to do my duty, and since you’re here, and I have no one else to do my bidding, I want you to find Don Justo and inform him that I’m ready to meet him tomorrow for breakfast in the east wing sunroom. Good day, Don Bastien.”
I turn on the heel of my traitorous shoe and march out of the courtyard, resisting the temptation to glance over my shoulder to see Bastien’s reaction. I can well imagine it, though.
I’d wager it’s corpse-like.
When I get to my destroyed bedchamber, I find Jago waiting for me. He’s on the balcony, feeding Cuervo grapes and making clicking sounds with his tongue.
“Hey,” I say, unsure whether or not he’s still mad at me. I hope the fact that he’s here means he isn’t.
