“No,” Reina said softly. “I… the baby was dead.”
Celeste watched Reina coldly and with disapproval, which Reina thought was unfair. It was easy for her to judge her actions from far away, when she could merely dodge her father’s orders and ignore Do?a Ursulina’s altogether. But Reina knew, once Celeste saw her mother’s smile again—once Do?a Laurel’s return brought life back to this grim manor—she was going to shower Reina in gratitude instead.
Reina reassured herself with this future and all the possibilities this door opened for them. She tainted her hands so Celeste wouldn’t have to.
The double doors of the dining hall swung open. The caudillo stormed inside but paused at the sight of Reina and Celeste. Little of him had changed in the last year. His hair remained cropped short. He still had those sharp edges to his cheekbones and jaw, though he had grown a short beard, immaculate as the jackets and tunics he wore.
“Reina, Ursulina has been looking all day for you.”
Reina stepped away from the table with her head bowed. “Mi se?or, I was searching to see if last night’s ritual had been successful.”
“It wasn’t. We don’t need you searching for a corpse to know it. Ursulina says she’s discovered the identity of the eighth.” He swept to the head of the table and said to his daughter, “Celeste, you couldn’t be bothered to wash up before supper?”
Celeste’s sneer never eased. “So what?” she said.
“Don’t be insolent.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t have to suffer my presence long. I’m done eating.” She made to stand up.
“You ate without waiting for us?”
“The arepas were getting cold.”
“Do not leave this table.” Don Enrique’s voice thundered in the vast hall. It froze Celeste into obedience. It always did.
Celeste could tug and stretch the bounds of her insolence. She knew she was the precious reminder of the only thing to ever bring Don Enrique happiness, and she abused this knowledge. But in the end, Don Enrique’s commands would always reign supreme.
Celeste shoved herself back in her seat. She glared at her father, then at her half-empty plate.
“Reina,” Don Enrique said, regarding her, “because you were gone all day, Javier had to be the one bringing the girl. So go and take over so that he may eat and pack for his journey to Galeno.”
“Of course, mi se?or.”
“Why is he going to Galeno?” Celeste said at once.
“The Serranos invited me to the wedding of one of their granddaughters. So instead of insulting them by turning them down, I’m sending Javier.”
Celeste huffed. “I want to go to a wedding…”
“It’ll be a dangerous journey. Unrest is brewing on the road with this talk of overthrowing King Rodrigo. There have been reports of attacks on merchant caravans from the Llanos all the way to Sadul Fuerte.”
“Are you sure it’s not the tinieblas?” Celeste asked with an insolent smirk. “If you’d let me go hunt them, the roads would be safer.”
Many things about the caudillo were the same since Do?a Laurel’s passing, but not his relationship with Celeste. He barred her from training with Javier and Reina and from going on the tiniebla hunts. One could speculate his undue protection was his way of preserving his last possible heir. For tinieblas were becoming a growing problem for all who coursed the mountains and the Llanos. Their numbers grew swiftly, like the ticking seconds were delivering them all closer to the coming of Rahmagut’s Claw. With each hunting party, fewer ?guila soldiers returned unscathed and alive. But the truth was Don Enrique was no longer interested in the legacy Celeste could forge with her strength and his influence. In fact, he wasn’t interested in anything that didn’t immediately benefit the return of Do?a Laurel.
Don Enrique ignored Celeste. “Reina, I do not want to hear again of Javier picking up your slack on the matter. You’re only useful to me if you perform the duties we command of you. It is in your best interest not to fall out of line.”
Her transplant heart betrayed her with a shudder. Reina’s cheeks went hot from shame, as she knew the iridio spell flowing through her heart was visible to their valco eyes. Even Celeste could see she was terrified of the caudillo. Reina supposed that brought Don Enrique great satisfaction. With her jaw clenched, Reina nodded and whirled out.
Javier waited for her in the courtyard, under the pocket of light from a nearby wall torch. His antlers were slightly bigger, as were his shoulders. But he was still lean, his frame so feminine he was apt to be confused for a woman from behind, especially as he wore his shoulder-length starlight hair tied back in a low ponytail.
Finally he heard her approach and said, “About blood-damned time you arrived. Aren’t you supposed to be around when things like this happen? What, were you too busy sniffing Celeste’s undergarments to come when you’re called?”
Reina’s fists curled. “Don’t—” she blurted out. “Why would you say that?”
“Pace yourself there, duskling. You’ll give yourself a heart attack,” he said.
Maybe her face was an open book. Maybe it told him everything she felt. But even if there were nothing she should be feeling guilty about, any word or misheard whisper was fuel enough to feed the worst sort of gossip at ?guila Manor. The kind that could earn her a whipping from the caudillo.
“Don’t spread lies about me,” she said in the steadiest voice she could muster.
Javier shot her a side-glance as he entered the larder. “If it really bothers you, then, you know, stop looking at Celeste like she’s a fine meal, and the household will move on to better gossip. No one cares if you fancy girls of your breed. But keep off my niece.”
“Your mother bedded women.”
Reina had even asked her grandmother about it, when she’d heard the rumor one too many times from the help. Do?a Ursulina confirmed it with a sneer, and the consequent conversation had revealed she didn’t care if Reina, like Do?a Feleva, never had eyes for men.
“What did you just say? Did you just compare yourself to Mother?” Javier lunged to push her against the wall, but Reina had been fully expecting the reaction. She was quick-footed and sure of her words, so she stepped out of his way.
“The whole world knows it, and she was still mighty and renowned all the same.”
Javier didn’t pursue the assault. The red in his eyes glimmered dangerously under the torchlight. “Yes. But she didn’t bed animals. And despite her renowned stupidity, Celeste wouldn’t either.”
Ire blazed through Reina. It made her foolish. It made her want to reach for her machete and demand a duel. But Reina remembered Don Enrique’s threat. She swallowed the hatred for this spoiled, hateful man who had a heart worthy of a tiniebla and said, “Show me the girl already. The caudillo wants you to join him for supper.”
It was too dark to see him, but Reina could almost feel his smirk; his smugness for her lack of retort.
With a spell of iridio, Javier lighted the wall torches inside the room. He approached the crate perched in the middle, by barrels and dusty crates of armor and other abandoned junk. He shoved the lid open, revealing a sleeping human in a rough-spun dress. She had the milky-light skin typical of the people from the Páramo, and her hair was black and cropped to the jaw.