Page 43 of Mistress of Bones

XXX

THE COUNT, ONCE MORE

A YEAR AND A HALF EARLIER

The shutters were open to the night air, the curtains drawn.

De Anví and Esparza peered through the curtains, watching the building across the street and the second-floor passageway linking it to the next house.

Underneath another bridge, a trio of men huddled around a shabby brazier—the only light in the street aside from Luck and Wonder, which were currently hiding behind a cluster of clouds.

Esparza, wearing an old blue doublet, rubbed his arms. “Tell me again, De Anví, why we must suffer not only in the dark but in the cold.”

De Anví didn’t bother to answer, his attention returning to the door of the building opposite.

The Countess de Losa and part of the King’s Guard were waiting in another building up the street, ready to strike the main house, where the conspirators against the king hid.

He and Esparza and a few City Guards had been pushed to the side to watch over this annex—a glorified servant’s door attached by the walkway—in case someone managed to escape.

He didn’t mind. He welcomed it, in fact. Let De Losa earn all the glory—he had no use for it. Once he was done with this mess, he’d go back to his family’s homestead in the countryside, where people meant what they said, and he would be left alone and at peace.

“You’re sure you found the queen’s blood?

You’re sure it was there, in the crypt?” he asked, not for the first time.

Asking settled the part of him that would not stop prodding his ribs.

It worked for a few minutes, at least. “Did you take care to take one vial? We might need it to prove the child’s identity. ”

“Two vials, resting there inside her stone casket, one now under lock and key. Did you know they put the old twin princes side by side? It’s amazing their caskets haven’t fallen off their ledge to get away from each other.

” A shiver ran down his frame. “Come to think of it, perhaps the stories are true and their essences remain behind to keep torturing each other. And they put King Harea in his own niche. I suppose getting away with murdering all four of your older siblings ought to be rewarded in some way.”

“If you would like to ever collect your own reward,” De Anví told him in a cold voice befitting the chilly space, “perhaps you could be of help and pay attention to the outside.”

At the lack of response, he fixed his attention on Esparza. A small smile tugged on the man’s lips, and his hand toyed with the edge of the curtain.

Realization hit him. “Gods, you’re in love again.”

Esparza grinned wide. “You know me too well.”

“Put her out of your mind if only for a night, will you?”

The other man remained silent for a few moments, staring into the street without really seeing what was in front of him. “This time it might be fated.”

“Our saving the king?”

“Ná. True love, De Anví. True love!”

“You’ve claimed such before,” De Anví pointed out.

“Not like this, my friend. A kindred spirit at last.”

Or at least for the next few weeks , De Anví thought dryly.

“I finally understand what you find so compelling about De Guzmán,” Esparza said.

De Anví gave him a sharp look, which Esparza met with a laugh.

“I’m only interested in the younger sister, don’t worry.

Although, perhaps you should. The queen has been dead for over six months.

Make your move before someone else catches Nereida’s whim. ”

De Anví’s heart made that strange leap it always did when he thought of Nereida.

It sent heat through his veins and stabs of anxiety across his nerves.

The worry, forever present in the back of his mind: that their courtship might never come to pass.

“After the mourning,” he said. “It wouldn’t look right otherwise.

You know some still think she’s behind Her Majesty’s death. ”

“You worry too much about what others might think. She was her lover for a few months, not her spouse. Everyone knows she had nothing to gain by her death. Think of Countess Leonés. She didn’t care what others said when she took a new spouse three weeks after the old one ended up in the gutters.”

“It is not your place to question me,” De Anví reminded him. Esparza shrugged in a way that said he didn’t care about the warning but he did care about enraging those who gave him coin.

Esparza had it partly right. While De Anví did not care what others said of him, he would not put Nereida in such a position. She deserved his best, and for her sake, he would wait.

Esparza leaned closer into the window, his whisper urgent and sharp. “Someone comes.”

De Anví shook off the memories of his and Nereida’s last dance together, although he could not get rid of the lingering bitterness. How different things might’ve been if only he had spoken up. He rubbed his chest, but the searing regret did not abate.

“A carriage,” Esparza added in a lower voice.

De Anví heard it now, too, horses clopping on the flagstone.

A simple covered cart appeared on the street, coming to a stop in front of the building.

De Anví and Esparza tensed when two people alighted from the back and went to the door.

It opened for them immediately, as if someone had also been keeping vigil.

The cart moved away, leaving the newcomers inside the house and the street deserted again.

“One of them carried a big bundle,” Esparza said.

“A toddler. The king?”

Esparza gave him a sidelong glance. “Are you sure?”

De Anví flexed his hands. “That was the plan, according to the Witch.”

“She also told us they would take him to the main house.”

De Anví tapped the wall with his boot, attempting to find the perfect combination of speed and solidity with each thunk and cursing himself for beginning its search.

Tearing himself away from the encroaching fixation and hardening his will against the anxiety stopping would produce, he shoved the curtain open and stepped over the windowsill. “We’ve been played,” he snarled.

Alarmed, Esparza followed him through the opening. “The Witch lied to us?”

De Anví raised his hand and made a sign. One of the men huddled by the brazier under the bridge slipped away up the street. Trotting, Esparza and De Anví crossed the street and reached the narrow alleyway cornering the building.

“She’s playing one of her games,” De Anví whispered roughly.

“To what end?”

“To give me a present I do not want. She must’ve figured out De Losa is set to lead the charge on the main house and claim ownership of the plan’s success, so she maneuvered the traitors to make the king end up here, or gave us the wrong information so De Losa would be at the wrong spot instead of us. ”

“Why not stop the ploy altogether? Why risk the king’s life?” Esparza snorted. “No, never mind. I already know the answer.”

Because the Witch didn’t care about who resided in the Heart. She only cared about schemes and how much joy they brought her.

Esparza’s hand landed on De Anví’s cloaked arm. “There’s someone else.”

De Anví followed his gaze. A man was darting out of another alleyway, looking around before crossing the street.

“Not one of mine,” Esparza added.

“Go deal with him,” De Anví ordered curtly.

“No need, he comes to us,” Esparza answered, going deeper into the alleyway and stopping by the far corner. He only had to wait a few moments before the newcomer hastened by the backstreet.

Esparza grabbed him and slammed him against the wall, twisting one arm behind his back.

“Wait,” De Anví said. He walked closer to the struggling pair. The darkness was nearly complete, but something about the man’s features felt familiar.

“Release me,” the man seethed. “On the order of the City Guard.”

“De Guzmán,” De Anví said in surprise, his hand stilling around the grip of Valiente.

Esparza stepped back instantly. De Guzmán spun and glared at them. “How dare you?”

“Mind your words with His Honor, the Count de Anví,” Esparza barked.

De Guzmán stiffened and lowered his head. “Your Honor.” His gaze flickered to the other man. “Esparza?”

“Why are you sneaking around?” Esparza asked, his tone low but menacing.

“I… Oh, you’re the reason, isn’t it?” De Guzmán turned angry. “She lied to me about Iriana, and she came to meet you, didn’t she? What have you dragged Edine into this time? Curse you—”

“Lower your voice,” De Anví snapped.

“Sorry, Your Honor,” De Guzmán said, immediately contrite.

Esparza took hold of De Guzmán’s doublet and pushed him against the wall again. “What do you mean about Edine?”

“She’s somewhere around here,” De Guzmán hissed. “Looking for you in the middle of the night, I bet. How dare you drag her into one of your schemes?”

Esparza’s hold loosened. “I have no meeting with Edine, De Guzmán. I am here with the count today. Where is she? What is she doing around here?”

De Guzmán’s shoulders crumpled, his anger vanishing. “Oh, damn, she was telling the truth.”

“Explain.”

“She’s convinced some dirty ploy is being done behind our sister’s back.”

De Anví was suddenly alert. “Your middle sister?”

“No, Iriana. Edine wanted to investigate some rumors. I’ve been trying to find her in this maze.” He hesitated. “Will you help me look for her?”

Esparza opened his mouth, but De Anví made a sound of warning.

More sounds came, different ones, from a distance: faraway shouts and the rumble of running.

Esparza cursed and pushed De Guzmán away. He glared at De Anví, as if seeking permission, but De Anví could not give it. Saving the king was more important than following his latest conquest.

“Go,” Esparza barked to De Guzmán. “Find Edine and take her away. I will find her later and we’ll sort this out.”

De Anví didn’t wait to see if De Guzmán did as he was told. He strode back to the main street and turned the corner. A second later, Esparza joined him, rapier in hand. Figures ran through the passageway above.