Page 86 of Secrets of the Six

With a dramatic wave, he says, "This sanctuary brings me comfort. I was the Minister of the Saints for a decade before I was invited to sit at the Traitor King's table." He practically spits out the last words and my blood boils at the disrespect shown to my uncle. I still my face and keep my expression neutral as he continues, "I thought perhaps I could guide him to serve the Saints better, to learn to hear their voices, and heed their guidance. I knew I had lost his ear the moment he and that wicked woman agreed to allow those winged abominations to integrate into our city."

I grind my back teeth and barely manage to ask, "Wicked woman, Sir?"

His lip curls in disgust. "Ana Otero." I ball my fists and keep them pressed to my thighs. "She too sat on the small council and gave the Traitor King questionable advice. To allow those creatures the opportunity to corrupt our society, ushering their sinful ways of debauchery, was an offense against the Saints. She and I have had our fair share of disagreements, but I never thought she would stoop so low as to encourage the Venturans to be welcomed to Orlencia like heroes instead of the deceitful mongrels they were."

My brows pinch together, and I repress the urge to wrap my hands around his throat and choke the life out of him. He speaks with such hatred in a holy place. How have the Saints not struck him down? Perhaps they don't care.

My mother's lessons from my childhood echo in my mind reminding me the Saints use vessels to weed out the evil in the world. If men and women like me quit fighting against tyranny and standing for what's right, then what's the point? The Twelve Saints were men and women who stood for righteousness and at the end of the day, they all died for their causes. I know there's a high likelihood I, too, will perish for my people, and I don't expect there to be statues erected of me to remind those who come after me of my deeds. If someone does remember me, I hope they'd be reminded the blood staining my hands was to give them a chance to fly.

"But enough of that. I'm afraid being in this holy place brings back a lot of memories." His voice snaps me from my thoughts, and I feel the tears welling in my eyes stinging as I fight them off. "Now, I called you here to inform you of a few changes to my jubilee celebration. The first one is I will need a platform built in the plaza in front of the palace."

"A platform?" For an execution is what he's failing to mention. "Might I ask what kind of platform you need built? Is it for a performance?"

He purses his lips, and a small, mischievous smile appears. "Of sorts. I don't want to give too much away. I want it to be a surprise." He rubs his hands together in villainous excitement, clearly vacillating how much information to slip my way, but then blurts in childlike wonder, "I suppose it won't spoil the entire surprise if I tell you there will be an execution to mark my triumph over the Venturans – a reminder for the younger generation of what I saved them from."

I swallow hard, forcing a grin to match his exuberance. "Who will you be executing? I thought all the Venturans had died when you assumed the throne."

He scoffs. "I'm not foolish enough to believe none escaped me, Don Rafael. But rest assured, if there are survivors, they will be crushed under my boot soon enough. And as for who will be executed, that will have to remain a surprise, even for you, my friend. Please do not take that as me not trusting you. You know I have a flare for the dramatic."

Bastard. Always with the theatrics. Hopefully Olli can find those blueprints to Severo's house, because we're running out of time to prevent another execution.

"I would never question you, Soberano," I tilt my head in feigned respect. "What you say is just and I'm sure I'll relish the surprise as the rest of Orlencia." Saints, I hate stroking his ego. One day soon, he'll be begging for my blade before I offer him that mercy.

He claps his hands together and the sound echos in the cathedral. "Good! Good!" But his joy is short-lived when he remembers, "Oh yes," he grumbles. "To the vexing part of our conversation. Don Severo has requested to double security to ensure my safety during my jubilee and as reluctant as I am to have the Black and Red Guard so visible during a time of joy, I granted his petition. You and I both know Severo becomes relentless when he wants something. Better to succumb to his will now than have him pester me for weeks on end. I hope this does not upend your vision."

"Of course not. The extra security will not be a problem." This is not ideal, but I can work with it. "Your safety is most important."

"I knew you would see reason. Such a logical head on those shoulders." A warmth floods his hard-lined face, and it knots my stomach. "You know, as servants of the Saints, we are not permitted to marry or sire sons and daughters. A blessing really. Women and children tend to make men weak. Our resolve becomes clouded when we aren't focused on our goals. But if I were to ever have had a son, I would hope he would be exactly like you."

I'm taken aback by his sincere compliment and quite frankly sickened. The Soberano reaches for me and clamps a ringed hand down on my shoulder.

"I hope my kind words do not trouble you, Don Rafael."

I swallow hard and whisper, a raspiness in my tone, "You honor me, Soberano."

He smiles and kisses my cheeks one at a time before standing, flicking imaginary dust off his militaristic uniform, and readjusting the red cape draped over his left shoulder. "Good. I shall let you have your time to pray and confess. I will see you at our next meeting."

With a dramatic flip of his cloak, he parades up the main aisle of the church toward the exit. I don't move a muscle until I hear the doors creak shut. My shoulders hunch as I lean forward, rooting my elbows to my knees and taking several deep, steadying breaths. I'm not sure if the sea of emotions I'm wading through are steeped in rage or sorrow. Either way, I'm more determined to break into Severo's house and discover what he and the Soberano are planning. After this conversation, I can safely rule myself out as the surprise guest for execution, but it doesn't ease my mind. I have a nation depending on me for their salvation.

A thud of a body beside me draws a subtle side-eye. Even with his hood covering most of his face, Olli's freckled hand lying in his lap is a dead giveaway of his identity. He pulls a sealed envelope from his billowing sleeve and slides it across the pew. In one fluid motion, I swipe it and shove it into my pocket without making direct eye contact.

"It's a copy," he whispers. "Burn it when you commit it to memory."

I nod my head in understanding before I stand and kneel in the aisle facing the altar. Pressing my palm over my heart, I take my leave. I have a heist to plan.

Chapter 30

Ines

From what I've heard through the aristocratic grapevine, the warden will be executed for murdering Señor 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 Doña 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 Doña 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.