The Queen's Secret (The Queen's Secret #2) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,4
bewildered. “They’re upsetting my horse.”
“The terrible news from Stur has upset our people,” Lilac says in a loud, clear voice, no doubt aware that her words will carry. “That’s to be expected. We should have canceled this visit today as I suggested. It is . . . unseemly at such a sad time.”
“I don’t know why they’re angry with us,” Hansen complains, frowning at Lilac. “Hang this. We’re in the dark like everyone else, and news of Stur arrived just this morning. I saw no reason to change course. This is still my kingdom.”
“Quite,” says Cal, keen to end the conversation. The booing intensifies, the crowd growing more brazen. He holds up an arm to summon the assassins, and they gallop up, circling the monarchs.
“Rally to the king and queen,” he mutters. “Follow me.”
“What on earth is going on here?”
It’s the Duke of Auvigne, his face even ruddier than usual. “What is all this to-do? These subjects need a good thrashing, if you ask me. I’ve never heard such disrespectful nonsense.”
“We’re returning to the castle, Your Grace,” Cal tells him. “At once.”
“Very well, but the guards should arrest some of these louts and make an example of them.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Once again, Lilac sounds calm and firm, though Cal knows that she must be in turmoil. When he looks into her dark eyes, there’s no sparkle. “We should make haste.”
At a nod from Cal, Jander takes off toward the back of the procession, to spread the word of an about-face. In an instant, they’re on their way, retracing their progress along the road to Mont. The city is visible on its hilltop in the distance, and Cal wants to set a quicker pace than their journey out.
The countryside isn’t a happy place anymore, and it’s not a safe place. Deia damn the witch who killed them.
In the minds of the people of Montrice—so adoring last week—has everything changed so utterly? Is Lilac the “witch” they fear? Cal is troubled, but for now he needs to get Lilac back behind the city wall and into the castle, where she will be safe from her people.
Chapter Two
Lilac
It’s been three days since our last attempted journey, and for the time being no one is allowed out of the royal castle. People here in Mont call it a palace, but it’s more like a fortress, the moat a weed-infested gully strewn with iron spikes to deter invaders. At nightfall the heavy portcullis clangs shut and the drawbridge rises. We’re all trapped in here, for our own safety. These are dangerous times, and I fear the danger will only grow.
Aside from an emergency meeting of the Small Council, I haven’t seen Hansen. He has always had the love of his people, and I don’t think he’s taken our recent reception well. Maybe he thinks it’s my fault. In fact, I’m sure he thinks it’s my fault.
The weather has turned chilly and wintry, and it’s been decided that we should suspend further excursions around Montrice until . . . until what? Until spring? No. Until the rumors die down, and the anger.
The day drags, and then at last, night falls. I sink into my vast bed, its brocade curtains drawn around me before my ladies depart, fussing with their candles and competing to be the last to wish me good night.
“Sleep well, Your Majesty,” they say, though their faces are anxious, and I doubt any of us are sleeping well right now. All the talk is of the terrible news from Stur and the people who died there. The children who died there. My ladies are careful not to say anything directly to me, but the men in the Small Council are less circumspect. Anyway, I knew—as soon as I saw their faces and heard their displeasure when Hansen and I rode out the other day. They hate me. They blame me.
The lilac-colored frost over the pond. A curse from the Renovian witch. It is easier to blame the devil they know—the foreign queen—than the one they don’t, the demons who walk among us once more. The King of Stavin is convinced the Aphrasians have returned, and who am I to dispute this? Stavin is right: We have been slow to act. The problem is that the king does not even know where to start looking for perpetrators. The Aphrasians seem to have disappeared into thin air. I have pushed Hansen to send soldiers to Baer Abbey, but the king does not listen to me.