Echoes of the Raven (The Eldrystone #2)

18. CHAPTER 18

18

VALERIA

“Wouldn’t you know? With Simón Plumanegra dead, I’m fourth to the throne.”

Gran Duquesa Sara Plumanegra (Casa Plumanegra) - Fourth in line to Plumanegra throne - 21 AV

I hate the need to placate that awful man. Don Justo is a villain if I’ve ever seen one. But I have to put the future and peace of the realm ahead of everything else, and if that means trying to find him a wife… so be it. I can only hope that any respectable woman I steer in his direction will see through his facade and run far away from him.

It’s ironic how Jago’s idea to thrust Don Justo at another royal ended up being the outcome of our conversation. I guess I was too na?ve to expect Don Justo to simply walk away without a prize for all his troubles. Perhaps we will need to go with my cousin’s plan and introduce him to Sara.

Taking two steps at a time, I hurry down the staircase in search of my sister. As I round a corner, I’m staring at the floor and have to come to a sudden stop to avoid a collision with what looks like a walking bolt of yellow silk and lace.

“Apologies,” I blurt out at the voluminous dress .

“Valeria,” a syrupy sweet voice says, making me cringe. “Are you well? After what happened, I’ve been concerned about you.” Fake concern colors her tone.

I would recognize that voice anywhere. It’s as genuine as those beauty marks Emerito fancied. Reluctantly, I meet the woman’s gaze and try to match her smile. I almost succeed, except my face feels stiff.

“Sara, it’s good to see you,” I say, avoiding her question.

Gran Duquesa Sara Plumanegra. Fancy running into her. It’s as if my thoughts conjured her. Could the gods be sending me a message?

She’s my second cousin, granddaughter of Teresa Plumanegra, my grandfather’s sister. In our tradition, the Plumanegra surname is passed down through both male and female lines, a custom uncommon in Castella, which is the reason we bear the same last name. She is fifth—no, now fourth to the throne, following Amira, myself, and Jago—as she keenly likes to point out whenever given the chance. Unfortunately, her mother passed away last year due to a tragic fall from her horse, and with her father also deceased and being the eldest of three siblings, she inherited the title of grand duchess and moved up the line of succession.

Like many other Plumanegras, she lives in Nido—somewhere in the west wing. I seldom see her, though, a testament to how big the palace is.

She looks like a sunlit cloud in her voluminous yellow gown, her chin held up imperiously. Cascading blond curls frame her slender face, flowing past her shoulders.

“You look,” her cold gray eyes scan me from head to toe, “the same as always, so you must be all right.”

“I could be better.”

“Glad to hear. Glad to hear.”

What? Is she even listening ?

She pulls out an elaborate fan and waves it around her face. “I was just talking to my brother about the council meeting this morning and told him how surprised I am to discover that Amira has a backbone, after all.”

I frown, curiosity overtaking my anger at her backhanded comment about my sister. Sara holds a seat on the council, like her mother Ana Plumanegra and her grandmother Teresa Plumanegra before that.

With cold calculation, she examines my reaction, then delivers her venom as I knew she would. “The taint of the fae shall soon be removed from our streets.”

I feared this was where Sara was going, yet the words cut me deeply. I convinced myself that Amira would not dare present the proposal to the council and wash her hands of our heritage.

Somehow, I manage to keep my feelings hidden from this viper and say, “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to, Sara.” I sidestep her and walk away. “My apologies, I have somewhere to be,” I add as an afterthought.

She huffs, then throws her words at my back. “You and Jago could have benefited from a proper governess. A horse has better manners.”

I stop and do my best to bite my tongue, but this battle was lost many years ago when Sara and I were little girls, and she taunted me with jokes about my dead mother.

Calmly, I turn, push my face close to hers, and say in a soft voice, “I believe you’re wrong. A horse would have already stomped on your snake head.”

She gasps audibly, pressing a hand to her chest.

As I step back, I wink. “And your governess can’t hold a candle to Nana. At least she taught me to respect other people’s dead parents, so I’ll refrain from making jokes about yours. Have a good day, Gran Duquesa.” I curtsy with exaggerated deference, then turn on my heel and leave.

It takes me several passes up and down an empty hall to calm down and gather my thoughts. When I feel capable of facing Amira, I head toward her study.

Rolling my shoulders, I knock on the door. Renata peeks out and offers me a smile.

“Does Amira have a moment? I wish to talk to her,” I say.

The adviser is gone for a moment, then returns and lets me in. “She can see you now.” After I enter, she closes the door behind her, leaving me alone with my sister.

Amira is waiting for me with her arms crossed over the desk.

My gaze darts toward the cabinet where the Plumanegra keys are kept. I wait for her to demand where The Eldrystone is, but it appears my sleight of hand remains unnoticed. An urge gnaws at me to swap my key with Amira’s before my luck runs out.

“Renata told me you met with Don Justo just now. How did it go?” she asks.

“I’m handling him.”

She narrows her eyes, and I think she will press me further, but she lets it go. “Good.”

I know this means she has decided to trust me. I wish I could do the same, but I think she’s making a big mistake.

“I ran into Sara,” I say.

Amira says nothing. She simply holds my gaze.

“You can’t,” I manage.

“I have to. We need to quiet the unrest, and this is the best way.”

“It’s… not right.”

Fluidly, she pushes to her feet, hands flat on the desk. “And what they did to our family… is that right?”

“Orys is dead, Amira. ”

“And what about Rífíor and the veilfallen who escaped? What about those fae still out there who will continue to do harm to our denizens?” She points vaguely in the direction of the city, her finger shaking.

“They can be punished for their crimes, but the innocent shouldn’t have to pay for the mistakes of others.”

“Well, you and I are paying. Regardless.”

“Amira, please, you must think this through. This… action can’t be part of your legacy.”

“That is not for you to decide,” she says, fixing me with the same unyielding gaze as the other night, when I hesitated to relinquish The Eldrystone.

By all accounts, it seems Orys made her distrustful, even of me. But how can she feel threatened by her sister? I’ve never given her a reason.

She won’t think that when she discovers the amulet is missing , a rational voice chimes in within my head.

“I know it isn’t my decision,” I say. “I only fear for what you still have to lose.”

Her eyebrows knit together, and at her silent, questioning expression, I see my chance to go on.

“Orys took much from you and me. I regret not ending his life the first time, so that he never had the opportunity to harm you. What he did to you was awful. I see the toll it takes in the shadows beneath your eyes. You’re not sleeping well. I know you’re scared, and I understand why.”

Tears glint like silver in her eyes, and no matter how hard this is to put into words, I have to keep going, have to get through to her.

“You don’t want to disappoint Father. You don’t want to fail as a queen. You’re scared you may lose me and want to keep me safe. You’re also worried that anyone around you can turn out to be a traitor, an impostor, so you’re unwilling to trust.”

Her tears spill, cutting twin paths down her cheeks.

“But you can trust me. I’ll help you. We’ll get through this together. ”

“Will we?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“You’re certain?”

“Yes.”

She swats her wet cheeks with the back of her hands, drying the tears with the bandages around her injured palm. After several calming breaths, she comes around the desk and heads for the door.

“All right, come with me then,” she says, and without glancing back, she walks out, expecting me to follow her.