Page 94 of House of the Raven
I tell him every detail of our conversation.
“Be careful what you wish for.” Jago shakes his finger at me. “You wanted adventure since you were little, and now you’re in the middle of a conspiracy.”
“Look,” I say in a no-nonsense tone, “I need you to find Don Justo and tell him that I will have breakfast with him tomorrow in the sunroom. East wing.”
Jago frowns, clearly displeased by the assignment.
“I don’t want to see him yet,” I say. “I want to delay any interaction with him as much as possible.”
“Um, why not have one of the servants deliver your message? It doesn’t have to be me. The man is a dolt, and I’d rather someone twist my nipples—they’re very sensitive, mind you—than see his face again. I already had to ride five days with him from Alsur, thanks to you.”
I clear my throat. I thought about this long and hard. “I understand, but I was thinking you could act as my representative in all official matters.”
He sits at the edge of the small desk he keeps in one corner and gives me a slow blink. “Official matters? Since when do you care about those?”
“Since I came to terms with the fact that it’s the only way I’m going to figure out who killed Father?”
He huffs and crosses his arms. “I don’t want to have anything to do withofficial matters, and you know that. I thought we were of the same mind.”
“Maybe it’s time we grow up, Jago.”
“And end up like our parents?” He walks to the night table, grabs the wine bottle, and takes a long swig. “I’d rather not.”
“What then? What is your plan?”
“I have no plan.” The smile he gives me is one of his most fetching ones. He’s proud of this.
“And you expect to go on like that your entire life?”
He shrugs. “I see nothing wrong with that.”
Slowly, I stand, the heat of anger filling my chest. “So you’re saying that your aspirations amount to being a drunk and a cad who sleeps with anything that moves.”
His eyes widen. “A drunk and a cad who sleeps with anything that moves?” he echoes. “Is that what you think of me?”
I want to take the words back as soon as they’re out. I can see the hurt in his expression and hate that I sound exactly like Father. But maybe he was right.
He sputters a laugh. “Thatiswhat you think of me. At least you didn’t call me a leech. Your Father used that word once.”
I shake my head. “That is horrible. I would never—”
He cuts me off. “My father and my mother gave this kingdom enough, and what did they get in return? A stately mausoleum in an abandoned cemetery? You think that might have been enough to buy their only son a quiet existence.”
I can do nothing else but stare. I have no words for him because I never knew he felt this way, never knew that Father—
“Simón Plumanegra never saw any value in me because I didn’t aspire to be the captain of his Guardia Real, because I don’t value violence, because I don’t think life is a prescriptive formula everyone needs to follow.” His voice is several octaves higher now, and his cheeks are red with the fervor of his words and feelings.
“I’m sorry, Jago.” Still holding the tapestry, I incline my head and walk toward the door. I stop and stare at the floor for a moment before I reach for it. “I will find someone else to help me. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
I don’t look back as I exit. I’m too embarrassed to do so. Father thought there was only one way for a Plumanegra to live their life, and that was in the service of Castella. He was selfless in that way, but he was unable to understand that not everyone was like him. Duty isn’t the sole measure of one’s existence, and while some might feel lucky to be a Plumanegra, it doesn’t mean that is all they would ever want to be.
As I meander down the least frequented halls in Nido, I realize the irony of my situation. It seems I’m growing up to be exactly who Father wanted me to be.
Regardless of that, I understand Jago. I can’t lie and say I’m not disappointed. I want him by my side in this. He, Nana, and Cuervo are the only beings I trust at the moment. But I won’t force him or guilt him into doing something that goes against his nature. At least, I learned that much after being asked to do the same so many times.
Five minutes later, I find that I’ve wandered all the way to my favorite sparring courtyard. It seems my mind can’t quiet down despite the fact that I already have a plan. I roll up the tapestry and leave it in the armory.
Outside, I lean against the battlement, allowing the crisp breeze to caress my face. My gaze drifts across the woods and city encircling my home. Clouds drift lazily across the sky, a stark contrast to my racing thoughts. Castellina sprawls beneath me, with distant blue-gray mountains tracing the contours of the valley.
