“That won’t be necessary,” Méndez says. “Lady Nuria is here. Please see that she and Judge Alessandro have everything they require.”
At the mention of her name, Leo and I look at each other. His dark eyelashes flutter and he tugs on the bottom of his attendant jacket, the only sign that he might be nervous. My heart spikes to my throat, but I break our gaze and begin unwrapping my own bandage.
“Right away, my justice,” Leo says, and folds into a low bow before leaving.
“I thank you for coming to see me,” I tell Justice Méndez. “I know your time is precious.”
He gives a small, weary smile, and takes my bare hand in his. He makes short noises of frustration at the long cut across my palm. My wound is healing quickly, but not as quickly as he seems to need.
“Is something wrong?” I ask carefully.
His thumb drags gently across the scabs on my knuckles. I bite back the revulsion that nearly makes me pull away. This feels like a trap, a snake gliding around my body.
“On the contrary. I have found a new Ventári for the Hand of Moria.”
“Where?” A twinge of pain comes alive over my temples. I think of Esteban. I think of the Whispers. I hold my breath to stop myself from shouting.
“Right here in the capital. I will be needing your alman stone for him to read.”
I feel sick. There are almost no Moria left in the capital. They must have used the weapon. How else could they have found him?
I yank my hand away, unable to stop myself. My heart races as Méndez looks at me, startled.
“Renata?” He grips me by my shoulders. I can hardly stand. He pulls me against his chest. He smells of incense and sugar. The scents I thought of as home for so long. I am so tired I can hardly push him away. The way he brushes my hair back, like I’m a little girl once again, makes my insides churn. I remind myself that he is not my father and never was. He was the monster who kept me in a birdcage. But when he repeats my name, with more worry than anyone has shown for me, with the exception of Dez, I can’t speak.
“I’m well,” I manage. “It’s nothing.”
He sits back down. I take off the necklace and hand it over, wondering if he realizes that only I can read the stone. The new Ventári can only verify what I see. He exchanges it for a new one. This one is smaller, the size of a marble, and rests at my collarbone. I feel the thrum of its magic, like it’s calling to my own. “I need you to be more vigilant.”
“Yes, Uncle. Can I ask? Has something happened?”
He readies the supplies to dress my wound. “There has been a robbery of sorts. Some of my alman stones have gone missing.”
“From the vault?”
Méndez shakes his head once, his gray eyes skimming over my features. At least my surprise is genuine. “Other places around the palace. Two of them are gone.”
Justice Méndez is spying on Prince Castian! The realization makes me dizzy. I think of Castian in Esmeraldas. No one can know I was here. Did he mean anyone or Méndez specifically? Castian has the connection to Lady Nuria. Castian has the weapon. Could they be rivals for the king’s approval?
“Renata?” Méndez’s voice booms in my ear.
I haven’t been paying attention. I suck in a breath. “I’m sorry. Forgive me, my justice.”
“I thought you were going to be honest with me, Renata.” Méndez twists off the cap of the tincture and drops the brown liquid over my wound. I know it stings but I can’t register it anymore. “If something is wrong, I must know it.”
“Sometimes my memories surge back. I can’t control them all the time and it becomes painful.”
His gray eyes scan my face. He brushes a lock of black hair away from my eyes. “I think about the night you were taken quite often.”
As do I, I say to myself. The image of a sweet young Dez pulling me to safety is both a balm and a knife to my heart. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.
“I’m better now,” I say, and offer a smile that seems to convince him.
“I have brought you something.” He fishes out a small blue velvet pouch from his satchel and unfolds it.
I do not want gifts from Méndez. This is how it’ll start, and then I’ll be right back where I was all those years ago. But the old me would not have refused, so I don’t.
The red-jeweled pendant is the official seal of the justice, similar to the one Leo wears. Méndez pins it to the fabric of my dress over my heart.
I take a long, trembling breath. “You honor me, my justice.”
He lifts my chin with his finger. His sincerity burns me. “You are more valuable than you know, Renata. Soon, King Fernando will see all the work I have done for our cause.”
“The king is pleased?”
“More so since your arrival.” His forehead strains. “While I am gone, you must continue being my eyes and ears. Only Judge Alessandro and Leo can reach me.”
“Do you have to go?” I ask. “What if you don’t return in time?”
“All the more reason my duty calls. The new Ventári must be broken in for the king.”
Is that what he’s going to do to me? Break me in? A voice that sounds like Margo says, He already has.
“When I return, I expect your injury to be healed completely and in time to perform.”
Dread pools on my tongue. “To join the Hand of Moria.”
“The only Robári for miles must impress our foreign visitors,” he says.
The only Robári for miles. The only Whisper in the palace, too.
I watch Méndez’s carriage leave from the sky bridge facing the main street. The ruby-and-diamond pin on my chest carries the weight of every person whose life I’ve touched with my power. Here I am, wearing the justice’s seal. I try to tell myself that this is exactly what I wanted when I arrived. To stay here for more than just my vengeance. For the justice to trust me. I am worried that I’ve played the part all too well.
The Sun Festival is fast approaching. I am far from ready. If the mission isn’t complete before then, if I haven’t yet been able to secure the weapon and destroy the prince, will I be able to go through with it? To create a Hollow of Lord Las Rosas to keep my cover and continue on for the greater good of the Whispers?
My guilt will kill me one day, but I’ve decided that’s not today. I walk across the length of the sky bridge and rest my gloved hand on one of the pillars for support. From up here, the maze of gardens is a dizzying thing. Glossy tiles form intricate patterns that seem to lead between manicured hedges. The last king had this garden designed as a gift to his wife. Divided into quarters, the hedges and arches covered in blooming roses trick the mind into following a path to the center, where all the royal revelries take place.
In each of the separate garden quarters, there are hidden nooks with stone benches for courtiers to pass the time. The girls dot the gardens like flowers as attendants walk beside them with parasols to block the sun’s burn from their skin.
Leo’s laughter flits up from one of the gardens. There, under a canopy of sheer fabric and lanterns is a woman surrounded by half a dozen courtiers and attendants as if she were the queen herself.
I move unnoticed past the gardeners preparing for the Sun Festival. They tend to braided trees with white buds ready to flower, and polish armor and statues until they gleam from meters away. A small boy arranges lily pads in the glistening reflective pools that line the queen’s gardens. From down here, the tops of the palace towers shine like individual suns. I remember looking at this structure from a greater distance, when my unit and I rode down a road flanked by severed heads. Every time I enjoy the beauty of this place I remember it is equally matched by a hideous heart.
I find Lady Nuria’s canopy in one of the quarter gardens. Her face is hidden in the shadow of the canopy, but her long, full body reclines on a plush chaise covered in pillows and white fox-fur throws. She wears her dress cut lower than the other courtiers, in what I know to be the Dauphinique style according to Leo. Her gown is
the color of cherry juice, hugging a slender waist and wide hips. Her hair is pinned up, curls arranged to fall delicately around her neck. Her sienna-brown skin gleams like a jewel.
She sits up when she sees me, and when her face comes into the light, she is not what I expected at all. She’s younger than I imagined, perhaps seventeen like me. Dark eyes that are somehow both kind and scrutinizing all at once. Her lips are stained as red as her dress, but the rest of her face is left untouched, including thick black eyebrows, naturally arched to give her a look of skepticism. Or perhaps that’s merely how she’s observing me now. She picks up the porcelain cup with a delicate gold-painted trim and takes a sip with her plump mouth. The half-dozen girls lounging around her do the same.
“Hello, there,” Lady Nuria says to me, batting her impossibly long lashes. She sets her teacup back on the saucer and tilts her head to the side, and that gesture reminds me of an owl curiously observing its prey.
“Lady Renata,” Leo says in a tone of surprise. He gets up from a cushioned bench and stands at attention. “Do you require me?”
“I lost my way to Justice Méndez’s workshop,” I say, a little too loudly for the benefit of the courtiers whispering behind their open fans.
One is Lady Garza, whose memory of the prince I stole on the sky bridge. She averts her eyes and sits at an angle that faces away from me.
“Lady?” a woman whines to Leo. Her dress is an extravagant thing, not at all suited for tea. There are beads and crystals sewn in patterns across the bust, and her gloves are fine lace. She has a short, haughty laugh as she eyes me up and down. “What is she the lady of exactly? Our Lady of Ruins?”
“Forgive me, Lady Borbónel.” Leo swallows hard but keeps his eyes on the ground.
I want to tell him that I was right in insisting he not refer to me with a title. I shouldn’t have come here, but I wanted to get a look at Lady Nuria myself. She, however, is the only one of the courtiers not laughing.
Lady Nuria sets her teacup down. Her slender hands rest on her lap. Her smile cuts precious dimples on her face, and in this moment, I want to hate her.
But the moment passes when her smirk lands on the source of my humiliation. “Tell me, Lady Borbónel, before your father was gifted the title of Duque of Salinas by King Fernando, what was he?”
Lady Borbónel’s already white skin pales. She flips her fan open in a snap. “A merchant.”
“But he was not always a merchant,” Lady Nuria says, that smile betraying the sharp edge of her words. “You may correct me if I’m wrong; however, I do believe he was from my citadela, where my father, the Duque of Tresoros, granted his skilled and trusted Majordomo Borbónel a ship to trade under my family’s name.”
Leo’s eyes flick from Lady Nuria to Lady Borbónel, but I’m fascinated by the other girls. They are equally split in horror and delight at their friend being cut down.
“I do not know what you’re getting at.” Borbónel’s face twists into a sour, puckered look.
“I only find it strange that a change of title bothers you when it comes to this young girl, but not when it is advantageous to you.”
“My father earned his—”
“And who is to say Lady Renata has not earned hers?”
“That is not a lady. That is an unnatural creature that shouldn’t be walking around the palace as if she owns it.”
Everything within me is screaming to turn. To run. To find anywhere but here. But my feet won’t move, as if they’re sinking into the earth of the garden.
“Tell me, Lady Renata,” Lady Nuria says. “Who gave you that seal upon your breast?”
“Justice Méndez,” I say, my voice like the crumble of ash.
“The justice deemed you trustworthy enough to wear his seal,” Lady Nuria repeats. She picks up her teacup once again and sets challenging eyes on Lady Borbónel. “Do you question the word of the justice?”
“No,” the lady says between gritted teeth.
“Please, join me,” Lady Nuria says, patting the velvet cushion beside her.
I start to object, to retreat, but Lady Borbónel sucks in a breath. “If she is to join, I will not sit here.”
“Then you are free to go,” Lady Nuria says with a close-lipped smile. I hate that I’m impressed by her composure. The way everything about her is elegant, even the brown coils escaping from her carefully arranged hair. She holds herself as if she knows how much she’s worth, and yet, this fierce, beautiful girl was going to marry my enemy.
Lady Borbónel stands, knocking her chair to the ground. She stomps away and waits. Her two friends rise from their seats and give Lady Nuria a curt nod before taking their leave.
“My mother was right,” Lady Borbónel says, exaggerating her loudness for the benefit of everyone within earshot. “We should not associate with the prince’s castoffs.”
If Lady Nuria is bothered by this, her expression does not show it. She simply moves her hand from the seat she offered me. I fear I have to stay after all that.
“You did not have to do that on my account,” I say.
The two remaining courtiers are a bit older, perhaps midtwenties. Only one of them is already married, by the two rings on her fingers. The other has a crown of golden hair braided in long plaits. She reminds me of Margo.
“Leo, I believe our guest requires a teacup, if you please.” When she looks up at Leo, I can see her true smile. He gives me a tiny wink as he steps out of the canopy, leaving me alone with the three ladies.
“Lady Nuria, I have missed your smart mouth in court these past few months.” The married woman chuckles—this close I notice the seal of Soria. “The Sun Festival has brought out all the hounds vying for the prince.”
“And here, I believed the Sun Festival was about piety,” Nuria says, flashing me a smirk.
“I thought we celebrated the Father of Worlds destroying the wicked Lady of Shadows?” Lady Soria asks, completely having missed Nuria’s sarcasm.
“Or to make sure Prince Castian finally finds a bride,” says the golden-haired lady, and at the realization of what she said, she covers her mouth. “My apologies, Lady Nuria, I didn’t mean anything by that.”
Lady Nuria doesn’t seem bothered at all, and simply keeps drinking her tea. How does she do that? How does she let words roll off her like water over rock?
“No apologies, Lady Roca. Despite the rumors about us, Prince Castian and I remain friends. We’ve known each other since we were infants. My husband, Judge Alessandro, is quite fond of him.”
I can’t help but think of the sealed letter Leo left in Castian’s chambers. I have a hard time believing Nuria and Castian are only friends. I wouldn’t perfume my letters to Sayida. Then again, I don’t pretend to understand the ways of royals and nobles—and Nuria’s secrecy intrigues me.
Perhaps in it lies a weakness I can exploit. Leo returns, handing me a porcelain teacup, and flashes me a warning eye.
“And where is the good judge?” Lady Soria asks. “He must have missed you terribly while you were taking in the fresh air of the Salinas coast.”
There’s a pause where everyone drinks their tea. Should I be drinking tea? Leo gestures that I should. But I spill some.
“The air is fresh in the whole of the kingdom,” Lady Nuria says amiably. “I was there speaking to an ambassador from Empirio Luzou to strengthen our relations.”
“Why ever would we need that?” Lady Roca asks, and I believe she genuinely wants to know.
“Nuria, dear, the first six months are the most blissful of a union. You shouldn’t take such long trips. Especially when the justice warns the Moria danger is not completely over.”
Lady Nuria’s beautiful lips become strained. I feel my body heat up at the words Moria danger, but I now realize this is why people drink tea during these conversations. To hide their faces in these giant cups. “Alessandro is taking up Justice Méndez’s duties while he travels to Soledad prison.”
Lady Roca gasps. “So close to the fes
tival?”
I can’t control the frown across my forehead, even as Nuria stares at me. Méndez is going to Soledad? I remember Castian’s map had the prison circled. Is this where they’re training the Ventári? Not training, I remind myself. Breaking.
How could they risk traveling that far? Then I remember—the justice is free to take the main roads. No hiding in forests. No evading tax farmers. His route will be direct.
I lock eyes with Leo. We’ve been through enough that I hope, I pray, he will understand how much I hate being here now.
He sweeps into our space and clears his throat. Addressing Lady Nuria only, he folds himself into a bow.
“I’m afraid I must be taking Lady Renata to Justice Méndez’s workshop,” he says, with genuine regret. I don’t actually have to go there, but I will thank him profusely for helping me escape. The ladies make sounds of lament and pet the top of my head as if I’m a domesticated mutt.
“Lady Renata,” Lady Nuria says, catching up to us just out of earshot from her guests. When she stands she seems to tower over me. She hands me her fan. I take it in my gloved hand. “It’s getting hot these days. And it’s a good way to hide that constant frown of yours. You’ll have an easier time at court if you can hide what you’re truly feeling.”
I laugh at that. The fan is delicate black lace with tiny red roses on one side. “Thank you, but I can’t accept this.”
“Take it. The real reason I wanted to talk to you was to ask a favor.”
What could I give a lady like this? When I stare into her brown eyes, I see the sorrow she hides so well. “Yes?”
“I have a memory that plagues me. Would you take it from me?” Lovely brown eyelashes bat at me. It is impossible not to fall in love with her. Why would Castian have called off their engagement, then? “And don’t tell me that your hand is injured. I know quite well how Robári magics work.”
I was wrong. Lady Nuria isn’t just bold. She’s reckless. She reminds me a little of Dez. I hesitate for a moment, unsettled by what could plague a lady like Nuria. But I need all the information on Castian I can gather. That and her blackmailing, while subtle, is still laced with a threat. I wonder if her husband told her what he saw me do. But then, why not go to Méndez instead?
Incendiary (Hollow Crown) Page 25