Page 42 of Secrets of the Six

"Oops." Doña shrugs as she beelines to two women arranging flowers in the main entryway. "Well, now you know."

"Con permiso, there is something I'd like to discuss with you, Doña."

"Of course, what is you would like to talk about?"

She doesn't give me the courtesy of meeting my gaze, so I don't bother sugarcoating when I declare, "The torture you signed off on last night."

Otero whirls and although I expect to see remorse or sympathy or even surprise in her gaze, there's nothing but a cunning and matter-of-factness in her eyes. "After you attempted to leave the grounds and Salvador caught you – "

"You can quit calling him Salvador, I know his real name is – "

"Hush!" Doña snatches my arm, glancing around to ensure no one overheard, and pulls me outside to the garden, away from the workers. "We do not speak his given name here," – she whispers harshly – "Or anywhere for that matter. No where but in the company of the members."

I pop my hip to the side, throwing my arms across my chest. "Why?"

"He may not be a prince," she whispers, "but his bloodline is noble. If the Soberano hears of his existence, it would mean disaster upon this city."

I quirk a brow. "Would he not have the same reaction finding out about the prince who escaped?"

Doña shakes her head. "A lost prince is no threat without the generals who win them battles. Salvador is his general and if he is lost, the rebellion will scatter."

"Fine. I won't speak his true name in the presence of others." I reluctantly agree and she seems relieved. "That doesn't excuse what you had them put me through."

"There may be no excuse for cruelty, but we had to be sure you were true. When Salvador caught you trying to leave, we thought perhaps you were going to expose us and cash in for a bigger payday." She lifts a hand to silence me before I can defend myself. "Now, before you become self-righteous, this was a precaution I was willing to take. That doesn't mean I agreed to it joyfully. I'm truly sorry for what you endured but thousands are depending on us. Our feelings for you can't muddy the water."

I recoil. "Your feelings for me?"

"Yes," her face softens as she rests her hand on my shoulder. "I've grown quite fond of you over the last few weeks, Ines. You're spunky and blunt and fear nothing and no one. I find my chest swelling with pride every time you push through a tough lesson and take another step into the role I've asked you to play. Sometimes I feel as if you are the daughter I was never granted to have. I'm glad you are with us."

"Am I supposed to shed a tear over those hollow words, Doña?" I scoff, swatting her hand away. "You had me tortured. You're not my family, you’re not even my friend. You are my employer and I'm expendable."

She grips the pommel of her cane, straightening to her full height. "Tell me, Ines. If you had something precious, so valuable you would burn the world to keep it safe, would you do it?"

My silence fuels her to continue.

"Those two boys came to be in my care when their parents were brutally murdered during the Soberano's coup. I swore then I would never let any further harm come to them if I could prevent it. A promise I have kept these last fifteen years. Granting permission for your interrogation wasn't a decision made lightly. I do care about you, Ines, but those two men – those boys I have loved as my own for nearly two decades – are my life. Mi vida." She pounds a fist against her heart, tears welling in her eyes, showing the first bit of humanity I've ever seen in her. "I will always keep them safe, even if it means all others suffer. Even if it means my life is forfeit so they might live on."

When I take a moment to mull over her words, her plea, I sadly realize I do not have anyone in my life I care for the way Doña Otero cares for Remus and Cassius. All I've ever loved has been the loot I could steal from the elites, but now I'm coming to understand none of that brought me true happiness either. I've been alone all my life, minus the few years I spent with Carmen by my side, and now at the first sign of caring for someone – in friendship or otherwise – I shove them away. Fearful that being with someone, caring for others, being included in a proper family, would make me weak and therefore useless. All I have going for me is my skillset – hell, that's why I was ushered into this rebellion in the first place – but before last night, I thought I was finally finding a place I belonged. It wasn't the waterboarding that broke my heart. It was the fact Doña Otero chose others above me. And of course she would. She's loved Remus and Cassius all their lives. She's known me all of one month. We are not the same. We will never be the same.

"Ines?"

I swallow the lump forming in my throat as my glossy eyes slide to meet hers.

"Are you alright, mi querida?"

I bob my head and clear my throat. "I'm fine."

"I know you will be cross with me for quite some time – "

"I understand why you agreed to it." I interrupt her, which she graciously allows. "I just hate that I care."

"Despite what you are feeling right now – which you are fairly entitled to – you belong here, Ines. The Brogratto is behind you."

"I'm not concerned about what's behind me, Doña." I eye her ferociously, steadying my wavering voice. "I'm worried of what lies ahead of me and if I'm being completely transparent, it appears bleak."

She reaches for me, but I side-step her. "If there are no lessons today, I will take my leave. There is a lot I must do to be presentable for the ball tonight."

If she had plans for me today or not, I don't really care. I curtsey before taking my leave and march inside to the kitchen where Lupe is assisting the chef. She casts a glance my way but before she can say anything, I swipe some slices of cheese, cured meats, and bread from the counter and slip back out to eat in solitude. I stomp past more workers decorating and cleaning the garden, clutching my items to my chest like a dragon hording a pile of gold until I find the bench with the unobstructed view of the city and the sea. I plop down and tear into the bread like a wild beast, not caring what the others might think of my unladylike behavior.