The Queen's Secret (The Queen's Secret #2) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,6
crones’ tales.”
I put my hands on his temples and massage. If I could take his burden, I would. He is more husband to me than my own.
He leans back, his olive skin against the crisp white linen sheets, his eyes glinting in the flickering light of the taper. “The villagers swear the pond went black with dark magic, and then lilac. And news has leaked of the letter from Stavin—”
“Which no one cared about until now,” I interrupt. “Even Hansen thought Goran was merely a warmonger looking for an excuse to invade us. But now it’s different. People are scared.”
Cal sighs, tracing a hand over my hair. His touch is pure comfort and I have to resist the urge to close my eyes. “Fear is contagious,” he says, “especially where the Aphrasians are concerned. But we need to know more. It’s possible the story is exaggerated.”
“Tell that to the people booing me in the countryside. Maybe Hansen is right for a change, and we can’t trust Goran. Stavin has never been one to shy from a conflict or a chance to expand its borders.”
“Part of the issue,” Cal says in a deliberate way, choosing his words carefully, “is that this happened in Montrice, not Renovia. It reminds everyone that you’re Renovian.”
I lean against him, trying to draw on his strength. “But why would I do something so cruel, and then leave a sign that blatant?”
“No one who knew you would ever believe it,” says Cal.
“But they don’t know me at all,” I say in despair. It suddenly dawns on me that my position here is as flimsy as my marriage.
“I will never let anything happen to you,” says Cal, his gaze steady. He puts his arms around me and I feel my heartbeat slowing.
“The Montricians associate the Aphrasians and their dark magic with Renovia,” I say. “It’s only fair, I suppose. The Aphrasian king ruled Renovia, and since that time our kingdom has failed to defeat or contain his followers. And now here I am, married to the King of Montrice.”
Cal winces, as he often does at the mention of my marriage and my husband. He would rather we had run away than see me as another man’s wife. The life we have eked for ourselves in secret, in shadow, wears on him. I begged him to make this sacrifice, but it does not come without heartache.
For now, however, we both must push our feelings aside. I clear my throat. “So I’m the evil queen,” I say, my voice low. “They believe I’m in league with the Aphrasians. But why?”
“With Aphrasian magic at your disposal,” Cal reasons, “you plague Stavin until it’s weak enough to annex. Then you undermine Montrice in a campaign of magical terror. Next target is Argonia, I suppose. Everywhere would be subject to the Kingdom of Renovia and its Dellafiore queen. The Avantine Empire intact once more.”
“All hail Avantine,” I say, unable to suppress my bitterness.
“All hail the queen,” Cal says, with a raised eyebrow. I know he’s teasing, trying to make me feel better about this absurd theory. This plan I would never want. I never wanted to be a princess, let alone a queen. That is my mother’s plan, my mother’s wish, but it is not mine.
“Just last week they loved us,” I tell him, pulling away from his embrace. “Hansen and me, I mean. They all wanted us to visit their manor houses and villages and harvest festivals. The groveling, the declarations of fealty. How quickly things change.”
“The kingdoms may be united in name,” Cal says, “but suspicion persists toward Renovia. Everything about this situation is new for the people here. Montrician queens are meant to be consorts, not joint rulers.”
“I may as well be a consort,” I say, unable to shake my dark mood. “No one listens to me in court. And my mother doesn’t seem to need my help back at home.”
“You’ll never be a consort.” Cal’s face softens and he smiles at me. “You’re a born leader. And a wild Renovian. That’s why they’re scared of you.”
He’s right. When they think that I can’t hear, Hansen’s courtiers speak of Renovia as a haven for animals, criminals, and the very darkest magic. They probably consider me half savage myself.
“They have long memories when it comes to old gossip about Renovian royals poisoning one another,” I tell Cal. “But short ones when it comes to how much my father—and your father—sacrificed while trying to break the Aphrasians.”