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We belonged to Agustín Duarte, and he was a selfish, paranoid maniac running our country. The anger coiled within me like a snake ready to strike, and I struggled to keep my breathing steady.
Contrólate, Antonio.
Control.
Control, damn it.
My breath came slower, and my heartbeat ceased its frantic race to some unforeseen finish line. Everything was going to be okay.
"Let us not dwell on our sorrow and fear," Duarte concluded, his voice rising. "Instead, let us use this tragedy as a catalyst for change—one that will strengthen the bonds between us and secure a brighter future for all."
The applause that followed seemed to echo and bounce off the surrounding walls, a stark reminder of the emptiness I felt now that Carmen had vanished. It was aberrant to applaud when a widower was still wracked with sobs in the corner. Applause was for joy, not grief.
But, then again, the Canciller felt grief for no one but his wife. As the crowd dispersed, I scanned the room for Manuel. The whispers of Carmen and Isaac's supposed engagement buzzed like a swarm of bees throughout the commonwealth. The Palacio Municipal was no different. Trabajadores and Élites alike gossiped behind their hands, casting furtive glances in my direction. I couldn't help but wonder who was spreading these rumors—perhaps Isaac himself, seeking a shiny new toy and winning elevated status by associating with the golden girl who had captivated the entire country. He didn’t understand Carmen. He didn’t even know her real name.
My fists clenched at my sides, knuckles white with the effort to conceal my frustration. The absurdity of the rumors irritated me, but what concerned me more was the thought that Isaac might use this false engagement as leverage against Carmen. I knew he desired her for her popularity and value, but I refused to let him manipulate her any further.
"Antonio!" Canciller Duarte called out as he approached me, his dark eyes searching my face for any hint of emotion. I didn't like the man; he had made me do things I wasn't proud of during my Blood Tournament, all in the name of achieving victory. But, especially with Carmen missing, I had no choice but to endure his presence.
"Let's talk, Antonio," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "This tragedy has left us all reeling, but we must consider the implications of Carmen's disappearance on the upcoming Blood Tournament."
I wanted to tell him to get his hand off me, but I smiled. Emotions were messy. I needed to play my part—the useful pet.
That was how my family gained power.
“Canciller Duarte, buenos días.” I stood taller, trying to appear effortlessly relaxed. “How is your wife?”
His eyes twinkled, like they always did at the mention of Marci. “She’s lovely as ever, but I’m afraid the topic of our little chat is going to be less pleasant than Marci.” He then pulled me in closer. “I’d like to speak to you about Carmen Asbaje.”
My blood turned cold at his words, but I refused to let him see my fear. He only knew her by the name Renata Valarde Bordón. “Who?”
He drew back and smiled. “Normally, I’d invite you over to eat, but I’m afraid that my schedule is quite booked. I’ll be brief.”
"Very well," I agreed, tired of this old, scheming man. We stepped out into the courtyard, where the last light of dusk cast eerie shadows on the ancient walls. The scent of roses clung to the air, a bittersweet reminder of the funeral we had just left behind.
"What do you want?" I demanded as soon as we were alone, my voice simmering with barely restrained anger. My hands shook with an urge to wrap them around his throat, but I clenched them at my sides instead.
“Antonio, what are your honest thoughts of Renata?” Duarte admonished, his thin lips curling into a wintry smile.
Keeping my smile fixed on my face, I tilted my head to the side. “She’s a hard worker, and I believe she’ll do well.” I resisted the urge to walk away.
"Ah," he murmured, raising a thick eyebrow. “So you didn’t know she was actually an Artista living on the fifth Island?”
My heart raced, and I fought to keep my expression neutral, knowing all too well what he was insinuating. "What are you getting at?"
"Simply this," he said, leaning closer as if sharing a terrible secret. "We both know that there is very little that escapes your eye. But I’m not upset you lied. It’s bold, and I respect someone who commits to their decisions. I like that you aren’t a rat like some of the others. You helped me with Beleza, and I am grateful for that. Because of my gratitude, I am going to give you another chance to prove yourself. This mysterious girl is a threat.” His eyes flickered in the direction of Isaac who had just appeared in the doorway while engaged in conversation with another Élite, and a surge of disgust washed over me.
"Then we should work to keep her under control,” I insisted, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut.
"Indeed," Duarte said softly, clasping his hands behind his back. "But you must understand, Antonio, that sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good. There are some people who aren’t worth saving.”
"Are you suggesting that we sacrifice Carmen?" I asked, my voice shaking with fury.
“Ah, yes. Carmen.” He smiled, and I clenched my jaw. My hand had been revealed too quickly. I was constantly making missteps because of her.
I needed to be stronger. Needed to get control of the situation.
“Of course not," he replied smoothly. “Renataon the other hand…”
