Echoes of the Raven (The Eldrystone #2)

21. CHAPTER 21

21

VALERIA

“I wish she would show more interest in official matters. Perhaps with time.”

Rey Simón Plumanegra (Casa Plumanegra) - King of Castella - 19 AV

T he next morning, I wake up to Cuervo’s croaks out on the balcony. The door is closed due to the fall chill, and he hates that. Yawning, I get out of bed and walk outside. A shiver runs up my arms when the air hits me.

“Good morning, Cuervo.” I kiss the top of his head, and he preens and sways from side to side. “You’re so lively today.”

“Treasure safe,” he reports, as if he clearly understands how important this knowledge is to me.

“Thank you, friend.”

Cuervo jumps off the railing and flies away. He looks like a bird with a purpose, and I feel a bit jilted by his abrupt departure—not that I can blame him. I have been too busy to pay much attention to him. Before all of this started, I used to spend a lot of time with him, exploring the city, playing, and feeding him. Now, I wouldn’t get to see him if it weren’t for his morning visits, however short.

Hoping I can make time for him soon, I take a quick bath and dress in black leggings and a gold-embroidered burgundy tunic. They are the nicest set I own, formal enough for a council meeting. I finish the look with a tight braid.

After much thinking about what I should do to help Amira, I decided it’s time to stop skirting my duties, even the most loathsome ones. I had hoped to live a carefree life, where I only had myself to worry about. I never wanted to be responsible for the welfare of others. An obstinate bird was as far as I was willing to go, but just as my sister’s future looks nothing like what I imagined, mine is morphing as well. I don’t like it, though my decision to take up my spot on the council as Father always wanted is not entirely selfless. If I’m able to put Amira’s life back on the right path, perhaps mine will be set straight, too.

Walking with purpose, I leave my bedchamber. Yesterday, I checked the schedule and know there will be a meeting in one hour. This gives me enough time to visit Nana and enjoy breakfast by her side, next to the warm hearth in her bedchamber.

Like usual, she’s up early, warming her old bones by the fire. Today, there’s a cart topped with hot tea and honeyed rolls next to her rocking chair. Depending on how she feels every morning, she makes her way to her favorite dining hall by the kitchen or requests breakfast in her room. Today, it seems, her joints aren’t cooperating, and she’s staying in.

There are extra teacups and rolls on the cart—enough for four. Amira, Jago, and I visit her whenever possible, especially around mealtime, and she ensures there’s always enough food for everyone.

After kissing the top of her head, I serve myself tea and sweeten it with three sugar cubes, then place a roll on a small saucer and sit across from her. She smiles at me and sips from her cup, rocking gently.

“You look smart this morning.” She scans me, focusing on my polished black boots. “There isn’t even mud on your soles.”

I take a large bite of my roll and mumble, “I’m attending a council meeting this morning. ”

She sets her teacup down. “Did I understand you correctly, dear? Council meeting, you said?”

I nod.

Calmly, she sets the teacup back on the cart, pondering the news. By her confused expression, I assume that Amira’s plan to confine the fae hasn’t reached her ears.

“Amira is trying to do something I don’t agree with,” I say.

“Child, are you sure it is wise to oppose your sister? She’s only beginning to get her sea legs as queen. She will not appreciate her younger sister undermining her authority.”

I’m glad for Nana’s immediate disapproval. Now I know exactly why I came here this morning. I need her opinion, her judgment. She’ll be my guiding force today. If she still thinks I’m wrong after I tell her what Amira is planning, I will relent.

Thinking my words carefully, I say, “She has changed much lately, Nana. Sometimes, I don’t recognize her. Father’s untimely death was a huge blow to her, and I think the attack from Orys Kelakian warped her perception of the fae.”

Nana doesn’t interrupt. She simply nods, encouraging me to continue, so I do.

“Because of this, she has developed a plan to relocate the fae. This is what she calls it, but in truth, her plan means their extrication from society and their imprisonment behind secure walls.”

As she takes everything in, her gaze drifts to the burning logs in the fireplace. She twists her hands together, rubbing her aching knuckles, and as she digests my words, her expression slowly shifts, inviting deep grooves of worry to her forehead.

After a long moment, her rheumy eyes meet mine again. “She must indeed be tremendously changed if this is her plan. I haven’t seen her but a couple of times since your father died. I must admit she seemed haunted, but I attributed it to the demands of her new role. You’re not in an easy position, Valeria, but I certainly understand your desire to act now. We must fight to uphold our values, and I know well what yours are.”

“You and Mother always taught us to respect everyone, to treat all as equals, no matter their race or creed. Why has Amira forgotten that?”

“Perhaps she hasn’t,” Nana says hopefully. “Perhaps all she needs is a reminder. Have you tried talking to her in private?”

“I have. More than once.”

“I guessed that much.” She shakes her head.

“She refuses to listen, Nana. She’s hurting so much, and she keeps pushing me away. I don’t want to oppose her in front of everyone, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“It seems to me you’re at a difficult crossroads, mi ni?a. All I can advise you to do is to follow your heart.”

Does listening to my heart mean the same as listening to my gut? I wonder as I make my way to the council meeting. If it does, that means that Father’s advice would be the same as Nana’s, and I should completely ignore the nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

When I get to the double doors leading to the meeting, I stop and take a deep breath.

Gods, help me!

I push the door open and walk in. Several faces turn in my direction, each one expressing surprise. Inclining my head in greeting, I move further into the room. Amira isn’t here yet, but I find my way to the head of the table, where a chair larger and more elaborate than the rest presides .

When Amira and I attended with Father, she sat to his right and I to his left. There aren’t any additional chairs next to the leading seat anymore, but an attendant standing in the back of the room quickly finds one and sets it to the right of my sister’s, sparing me the embarrassment of appearing clueless and out of place.

Sara shoots me a glower from across the table. She’s not the only one. Ministro Flores and Ministro Covarrubias do too. The rest seem indifferent, and only Ministra Eva Aquina, the minister of war, offers me a welcoming smile. She was one of Mother’s few friends. We used to see her often when we were little, but not so much after Mother’s death. The Ministra and Father never seemed to see eye to eye on most important policies.

I don’t take a seat. Instead, I stand next to my chair and wait for Amira to arrive. When she does, it doesn’t take long for her to notice me. Her expression hardens, and it’s obvious she knows why I’m here.

“Your Majesty,” all murmur as they stand and nod their heads in greeting while she makes her way to the head of the table.

She stands in front of her chair, and the attendant pushes it in when she takes a seat. Everyone else sits down, including me.

Taking advantage of the rustle of chairs and clothes, she hisses out of the corner of her mouth, “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to help you avoid making the biggest mistake of your life.”

She turns to face me and leans closer. “Have you stopped to think it is you who is making a mistake?”

I blow air through my nose and smile sadly. “Trust me, I have. I don’t want to do this. Please reconsider.”

“Oh, Valeria, always so na?ve.” Calmly, she straightens and sets her hands flat on the table. “The main topic of our agenda pertains to The Haderia . ”

What? They even have a name for it? Hada means fairy in our old language, so Haderia would mean a place where fairies live or in this case… a place where they’re kept . They can’t be serious.

“Every proposal has been presented,” she continues, “including financial information of how the project will be funded. I trust you have read each page and every painstaking detail I’ve put together with the help of some of you. Are there any questions?”

Everyone has a stack of documents in front of them, except me. I realize how woefully unprepared I am, but I have a feeling Amira wouldn’t have facilitated a copy for me if I’d asked beforehand.

Ministra Aquina is leafing through the pages, wearing a frown. “I have a question, as a matter of fact.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Sara says, her mouth twisted to one side.

The Ministra ignores her. “Funds from our efforts against Los Moros in the south are being diverged into this… unnecessary endeavor.”

So she is against the project. I wonder who else. My gaze travels quickly around the table, trying to judge everyone’s mood. Some are hard to read, while others like Sara are nothing but open books.

Amira opens her mouth to speak, but Sara puts a hand up and demurely asks for permission to speak. Amira grants it.

“Our alliance in the south isn’t as precarious as we believed it to be only yesterday. Other members of the family may not care or be willing to make sacrifices for Castella, but I’m certainly not one of them.” Her gray eyes flash in my direction for a split second. “I have secured an alliance with Don Justo Ramiro Medrano. He will continue to make his resources available in support of our sovereignty.”

Oh, gods!

So Sara’s ambition proved greater than her haughtiness, after all. An awful turmoil stirs in my chest, emotions clashing, the biggest one… apprehension. This doesn’t bode well. Yet, I can’t focus on their so-called alliance now. That’s a problem for another day. I’m here for a different reason.

“Thank you, Sara,” my sister says. “We value your… sacrifice.”

I know Amira well, and I can tell from the tone of her voice that she realizes the danger of this partnership too. She casts a sidelong glance in my direction, and I can’t tell whether she’s angry at me for allowing it to happen or grateful that, for now, it facilitates her plans.

Bishop Benedicto, the religious viewpoint of the council, clears his throat. “I apologize for not being in attendance during previous meetings,” he says, hands interlaced in front of him, the sleeves of his robe hanging wide. “I know I’ve missed much of the discussion, but I would like to take a moment to contemplate the humanitarian aspects of this project.”

I sit straighter in my chair, eager to hear what he has to say.

“In the history of our proud nation,” he continues, “with all due respect to Queen Amira, we have never endeavored to curtail the freedom of others.”

My sister’s fists tighten under the table, but she doesn’t interrupt him.

The bishop goes on. “Based on the church’s charitable enterprises, we estimate that there are over twenty thousand fae in Castellina alone. A holding compound for that number of people will be a challenge and will quickly become a burden to the crown.”

“Bishop Benedicto,” Amira says, “yes, your absence from previous meetings has certainly hindered your understanding of the council’s commitment to this project. We are more than willing to confront these issues in order to guarantee the safety of our people, including all citizens, members of the court,” at this, she pauses and glances toward Father’s portrait on the wall, “as well as the clergy . It is only a matter of time before they make you their next target.”

“If the financial burden isn’t of concern to the council,” the bishop says, “I must appeal to your sense of compassion. No good can come of this, Queen Amira. Such an action will only brew animosity between our races. Moreover, an internment camp will inevitably create harsh conditions for its residents.”

The bishop is expressing my exact thoughts. Expectantly, I peer at Amira’s face, hoping to see a glimpse of understanding in her eyes, but she only seems to harden her resolve.

“No harsher than what they have created for our citizens with their unwarranted attacks,” she says. “They live in constant terror, always wondering if they will be next.”

Bishop Benedicto presses his hands together as if in prayer. “Those attacks are perpetrated by a small number of rebellious fae, Your Majesty. The vast majority are peaceful creatures, who toil every day to feed their families and contribute to our society.”

“I never took you for a batracio lover,” Ministro Eliseo Flores says. He is the minister of agriculture, a man with jowls the size of beehives.

The cleric’s gaze slowly swivels to Ministro Flores. “I love all creatures equally, good don.”

Ministro Flores rolls his eyes upward to express his skepticism.

“We have been trying to eradicate that small number of rebellious fae , as you call them, for a long time,” Amira says. “We thought we had succeeded in destroying them, but the attack on Biblioteca de la Reina reminded us they’re unrelenting. They have regrouped and easily recruited new members. Every fae out there,” she points a hand beyond the walls that surround us, “is a potential enemy of our country, a future murderer.”

“Queen Amira, please. I—”

She lifts a hand. “We’ve heard your opinions, Bishop Benedicto, and they will be taken into account as we make our final decision. I think it’s time we vote.”

I sit there, my stomach in knots. Bishop Benedicto has spoken better than I ever could. He also carries the authority of the church, and Amira was unmoved by anything he said. What could I add that would help change her mind? I’ve already tried and failed.

But her vote isn’t the only one that matters. Every minister present and every Plumanegra in attendance has to cast a vote. Maybe there’s something I can say to the others that will sway them in the right direction.

“Let’s proceed—” Amira starts, but I clear my throat, doing my best to control my nerves.

“I would like to address the council,” I say, my voice firm despite everything.

Beside me, Amira takes a deep breath, as if trying to draw patience from the air. “Much as Bishop Benedicto, you have been absent from crucial discussions. We don’t need to waste any more time dealing with those who are uninformed and unprepared.”

“As a council member, I have the right to address my equals,” I say, citing one of the main rules of the council, which she knows well.

She turns her hands over in a gesture of surrender, her expression signaling that it won’t matter what I say. No one will change their mind. I hope she’s wrong.

“We have to find another way,” I say.

Bishop Benedicto has tried to appeal to our coffers and compassion, but that didn’t work, so I have to try a different angle to approach the topic. I also need to wisely use what little time my sister might allow me.

“Many of the fae have espiritu,” I continue. “They will find a way to escape any security measures you place around them.”

Ministro Flores scoffs. “Good! Let them. Those are the ones we will take care of first.”

Bishop Benedicto’s eyes open wide and Condesa Juana Clavel lets out a little gasp behind her heavily ringed hand.

Amira interjects. “There aren’t many who still possess those abilities, and this document,” she places her hand on the many pieces of parchment stacked in front of her, “outlines procedures that will help with those eventualities, should they arise. Perhaps, you should read it, Valeria.”

“Yes, I haven’t read it, but I still don’t think it is what Castella needs,” I say. “If we do this, it isn’t something we can take back. A year from now, we can’t say oh, sorry, we made a mistake, go back on your merry way . Those who don’t hate us now will surely hate us then.”

My eyes rove around the long table, holding everyone’s gaze for an instant. I’m met with more hostility than I would like. It seems few are opposed to Amira’s plan.

“If we do this, we might be committing to years upon years of oppression, a burden we may have to pass on to future generations.” I stare squarely at Amira at this. She may be willing to let hatred shape her life, but what about her children? Has she considered what their lives would be like growing up with this kind of burden?

I notice a slight tightening of her eyes, and for a moment, I think I’ve said the right thing, but then her expression hardens once more.

“At least,” she says, “the chance that we’ll be there to advise them and support them will be higher.”

In those words, I perceive the brunt of her pain, the fierce way she misses Father. And for the first time, I realize that she must mourn him far more deeply than I do. It’s not that our love for him is not the same. It’s that ever since Amira was old enough to sit still and listen, she was by his side. It was her duty to learn and grow into the ruler Castella needed. Wherever Father was, Amira could be found, taking notes, whispering reminders in his ear, sharing meals and tea breaks, laughing at a joke only they understood.

Then one day, she woke up from a nightmare of Orys’s making and found Father gone, unable to offer the advice and support she now needs.

Desperately holding onto my last bit of hope, I glance around the table once more. I perceive no change in anyone. I’ve done too little… too late .

“Now that you’ve had your say,” Amira smiles condescendingly, “may we proceed?”

I sit back down, defeated.

Even before the votes are tallied, I know the result. What I didn’t count on was the weak opposition the council offered. There were only four votes against Amira’s proposal, and it’s obvious who cast them: Bishop Benedicto, Ministra Aquina, Condesa Clavel, and me.

Gods! How did we get here?

Perhaps, this was the way it would always turn out. Perhaps two fundamentally different races living in harmony is an impossibility. Our differences were never meant to be surmounted. Compromise was never an option. Clearly, I’ve been fighting the wrong battle, and there is only one solution.

The fae must return to Tirnanog.