The Queen's Secret (The Queen's Secret #2) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,69
you,” I tell him.
“I wish I could turf him out of here tonight. But that’s probably not realistic. It’s quite late. Tomorrow. I wish I could turf him out of here tomorrow.”
“Holt is here to protect my mother.”
“Is that all?” He stands up, throwing his lace napkin onto the table, and marches to the fireplace. The effect would be more dramatic if he didn’t march back to pick up his goblet of wine.
“I can swear to you,” I tell him, “that nothing has occurred between me and the Chief Assassin since his return to Mont. We’ve never been alone together, not for one instant. I’ve seen him at the Small Council, but that’s it. My mother is with me at all times, as you’ve pointed out.”
“Thank Deia,” he says archly. “Maybe Holt is seeing sense now. That’s what I hear, anyway.”
I pour myself more wine, willing my hand not to shake.
“What do you mean, that’s what you hear?”
“Do you really have no idea why Holt trusts this Rhema girl and no one else? Of all the fighters he could ask for, he chooses her. My darling, you’d have to be dense as well as stubborn not to realize that they’re lovers.”
I try not to gasp, and fail. But of course. Hansen is right; it’s what I’ve suspected all along. Of course Cal and Rhema are together. Anyone can see it, even the king.
Still, I can’t let Hansen win. “But, darling,” I drawl. “You can’t have it both ways. You can’t accuse me of a relationship with Holt, and then tell me he’s actually sleeping with his apprentice.”
Hansen shrugs. “A man can have more than one relationship at a time.” Hansen’s pleased with himself now. “I know that better than anyone. You’re not as clever as you think you are, Lilac. Holt is using you to consolidate his own power in the kingdom while he enjoys himself with another woman. He’s more ambitious than you realize.”
“I think it’s time for me to retire to my chambers.” I’m worn out by our conversation.
But before I go, Hansen reaches for my hand. “Lilac, I am not your enemy. Our fates are bound to each other. Think about it. Maybe your precious assassin was the one who burned down the palace in Renovia. Who else could have done it?”
“That’s ridiculous,” I snap.
“Who else has the skills to burn down a heavily guarded palace undetected?”
“He has no reason to do such a thing.”
Hansen looks triumphant. “A very good reason, actually. He knew that the dowager queen would come straight to Montrice to find sanctuary. And that was all the excuse he needed to return here himself. To you.”
The idea of Cal burning down Violla Ruza is ludicrous. The idea that he’s having a relationship with Rhema Cartner . . . maybe not so ludicrous.
No. I can’t let Hansen get inside my head.
“I really should go,” I say, rising from my chair. “My mother is expecting me.”
“No she isn’t,” Hansen replies, still smug. “She told me she hoped that you and I would spend the night together.”
“That’s not happening!” The fury in me is rising again. But before I can step away from the table, there’s a knock at the door, and a page is there announcing the arrival of the dowager queen.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lilac
My mother has gone. I didn’t even see Aunt Moriah, who slipped into the castle yesterday with no one’s knowledge, and has left this morning driving some kind of cart, my mother hidden under its canvas. Their departure drew no attention from the guards. I watched from my window, shifting the shutters just enough to peep through. I mustn’t draw any attention to myself, either, as my mother always reminded me. We need to maintain the secret of her departure as long as we can.
When my ladies arrive to dress me, I will tell them that the dowager queen is breakfasting with the king, and they must pack all our clothing without a moment’s delay, to be transported by pages to the king’s apartments. I have slept in this room for the last time.
Then I will dismiss them all and suffer their wailing and crying, their vows of loyalty to me. They are all to be sent to their manors and country homes, to their fathers and mothers and rich, disgruntled Montrician families. Not even Lady Marguerite is permitted to remain. But I will remain, in this interminable winter, in this ugly castle with its long, dark galleries and smoky fireplaces.