Chapter 30
Ines
From what I've heard through the aristocratic grapevine, the warden will be executed for murdering Senor Montenegro, although some people doubt the prison keeper is the one responsible for the assassination.
The warden has maintained his innocence, proclaiming to anyone who will listen that a woman slipped inside their carriage while it was moving and hit him over the head with a pistol and she is the one who actually assassinated the wealthy lord.
Over the last few days, I've overheard the gossip and reveled in the rumors circulating the Market District shops as well as during intimate dinners with some of Dona Otero's business associates.
I've had to curb my sinister smile and avoid outing myself as the vigilante who has captured everyone's undivided attention.
Otero has flashed me a few questionable glances, especially once the news broke.
Knowing my history with the departed, she has every right to be suspicious.
Either she doesn't want to know the truth or has pegged me as the real assassin and doesn't need confirmation, but she hasn't asked me directly about it and I certainly won't be admitting to anything anytime soon.
Montenegro's murder isn't the only news making the rounds around Orlencia.
Unconfirmed rumors have spiraled over Rogelio being officially off the market.
Neither of us have confirmed or denied these allegations publicly, but when I showed Dona Otero and Lupe the giant ruby sparkling on my left hand, they erupted in praise.
Lupe even made a plate full of churros to celebrate.
Despite my handful of victories, I haven't seen or heard from Remus or Rogelio since the night of the murder and I'm beginning to listen to the tiny anxious voice in my mind convincing me I've done something to ruin both relationships.
But this morning after breakfast, I receive an invitation from Rogelio asking me to join him for lunch at his house today and I breathe a sigh of relief. Lupe helps me dress for the occasion, picking a cute day dress and comfortable silk slip on shoes.
When I pull up to the Murrieta Estate, my jaw drops.
Their house is enormous, and the immaculately manicured landscape would give Dona Otero's garden true competition.
The stucco and brick facade is light and welcoming but the sloped terracotta roof will prove difficult to scale if we need a quick getaway.
I stride inside the house when the butler opens the front door and admire the black and white checkered tile floor and wood beam ceilings.
The library off the foyer is lined floor to ceiling with books and entices me to spend hours perusing.
To my right, I notice the dining room table is empty and wonder if we will be eating outside in the courtyard but the male voice that greets me from the corridor leading to the back of the house doesn't belong to Rogelio, but Severo.
Trailing him are the three infamous mastiffs I heard so much about and I regret teasing Remus for fearing them.
Though I've never been terrified of canines before, these three give off vicious dispositions by their stances alone.
"Senorita Lozano." Don Severo clasps his hands behind his back as he saunters toward me, a polite, albeit unnerving, smile on his face.
Startled, I dip into a quick curtsey. "Good afternoon, Don Severo."
He grabs my hand and plants a firm kiss to my knuckles, maintaining unwavering eye contact the entire time.
His moustache tickles my fingers, when he murmurs against my hand, "You look lovely, mi querida.
" Entirely creeped out, I avert my gaze only to find the three war dogs staring at me like I'm their next meal.
Noticing my attention is no longer on him, the senior Murrieta glances in the direction I am and thankfully releases my hand to pat one of his dogs on the head. "Are you afraid of dogs, Elena?"
"Forgive me," I smile to mask my trepidation, "I'm not accustomed to being in the presence of such large dogs."
"Don't let their appearance fool you," he clicks his tongue. "They are gentle giants."
Yes, gentle giants with very long, sharp teeth.
I know animals can sense fear and will prey upon those they deem weak.
I should know. I've studied and hunted men my entire life.
The more fearful they are the weaker they are and the more likely they are to be my next target.
So, I muster every bit of courage I have coursing through my veins and reach my hand out to pet the one closest to me.
"May I?" I ask Severo for permission and he eyes me with malevolent curiosity.
He nods. "Please."
Perhaps he's given permission to test my boldness or to watch in amusement as his dogs nip at my fingers once I get a little too close, but either way, I'm determined to prove to him I'm not a frightened creature he can prey upon.
I take a confident step forward and quickly rest my palm on the beast's head and rub gently.
My chest is so tight I feel as if my heart might burst. But I retain all five fingers, so far so good.
"What are their names?" I ask as I move to pat the next one's flat head.
Severo seems impressed. He points one by one as he names them. "Narcissa, Beto, and Socorro."
"Pleased to meet you," I smile, eyeing each one, silently warning them if any of them attack me, I'll snap their necks. When I straighten, Don Severo has his eyes narrowed, clearly filing away some kind of information about me in the recesses of his dark, sinister mind.
I clear my throat and glance around the house. I hope Rogelio will bound around the corner but until then, I scan the main level to get a layout of the Murrieta house in case Olli cannot procure a blueprint. "Rogelio invited me to join him for lunch. Is he in the courtyard?"
A sheepish grin slices across his tan face. "Please forgive me, Senorita," he presses his hand to his chest, "but my son did not invite you here, I did. I wanted to speak with you privately if you don't mind."
Unease quickly bubbles in my gut. "Perhaps we should wait for Rogelio to join – "
"He's out in the Market District shopping for an engagement present if I'm not mistaken." He shrugs nonchalantly, knowing damn well he's set me up and there's no escape. "I suppose I shouldn't have told you, as it was supposed to be a surprise, but I'm sure you can pretend when the time comes."
The way he says the word pretend makes the hair on my arms stand on end. He's not a man of words, he's a man of action, so if he suspects me of something, then I'm fucked, because he will have evidence to back up his suspicions. "Don Severo – "
He suddenly motions for me to follow him upstairs, successfully cutting off my attempts at circumventing his invitation. "My office is this way."
If I run now, I will only rouse or confirm his conjecture. Although every fiber in my being is warning me to not follow him, I do so anyway. What other choice do I really have?
I slowly ascend the wooden staircase, my hand gripping the iron railing on my way.
He marches down the hallway, all three dogs right on his heels.
Once he reaches the third door on the left, he waves me inside.
If nothing else, I'll at least have an idea of where his office is now and can inform Remus – if things don't go to shit this afternoon and I find myself rotting in some prison cell.
I feel like a lamb being led to slaughter – an odd and bitter sensation.
I smile and saunter into his office which is the most masculine furnished space I've ever laid eyes on.
Dark mahogany panels line the walls with two narrow windows overlooking the garden in the fenced backyard.
Tan leather armchairs face a heavy desk with claws for feet resting atop a green pattered rug.
But it's the black feathered wings nailed on the wall behind Don Severo's desk that makes me stop dead in my tracks.
There is dried blood splattered at the base of the wings – as if they'd been ripped from a Venturan's back and he kept them as a sick reminder of the cruelty he inflicted.
When the door shuts, Don Severo invites me to sit in one of the armchairs as he takes his spot in his high-back chair and roots his elbows to his desk.
"Should we not leave the door open?" I ask and when his eyes dart to find mine, I add, "For decorum's sake, of course."
He smiles and shivers spider walk down my spine. "Sit down, Elena. We have much to discuss and I would rather it remain private. Servants tend to gossip, you see."
I swallow and I fear the bob in my throat was visible to him across the table.
Despite warning blaring in my head, I do as he bids and sit across from him.
Resting my hands in my lap might give the appearance of passivity but I have a dagger strapped to my calf and will be more than willing to use it if he acts in aggression.
"What did you want to talk with me about, Don Severo?" I initiate the conversation, hoping the sooner we start the faster I can escape this stuffy room. Though I do my best to fight the urge to look, I can't help but spy the torn wings just over his shoulder.
He tilts his head upward and grins. "Are they not magnificent?"
"Whose wings are they?" I hate that I asked, but my curiosity got the better of me.
"General Vitalis Kane," he beams.
General Vitalis Kane was Remus' father. My stomach twists and I swallow the bile rising in my throat.
"Do you know about the general?" He asks, grabbing the decanter of brown liquor from a tray situated on the corner of his desk and pours two glasses.
I reluctantly accept the drink offered, though I don't sip any. "I've heard of him."