The Queen's Secret (The Queen's Secret #2) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,72

point fingers at us, shouldn’t you be investigating the actual cause of the trouble? It’s probably in Argonia. I would put money on that.”

“Your Majesty, I doubt that very much.”

“I wonder,” Lilac says, interjecting quickly, afraid Hansen will make more inflammatory statements, “if the truth lies elsewhere. I believe that the peace between our kingdoms is being disrupted by a common enemy, but I don’t think it is Argonia. Our enemy, gentlemen, remains the Aphrasian rebels who want to seize control of the whole region. They possess not only the will, but the knowledge of dark magic that so besets our nations and spreads terror. Surely we have to work together to investigate and address this.”

“We are working on it!” Hansen protests. He jabs a finger in Cal’s direction and all heads turn to look. “We sent the Chief Assassin to rout any gray monks in Renovia. Unfortunately, he had to interrupt his mission when the palace in Serrone was burned to the ground.”

“And now he is back in Mont,” the ambassador observes with a sneer. “Has the destroyer of Violla Ruza been captured? Is mining safe again in the environs of Baer Abbey? Or have these missions simply been abandoned so he might return to the castle? My own sovereign wonders why your Chief Assassin has not been sent to the border with Stavin to investigate our own issues, when he is the most able man in the four kingdoms.”

“You’re quite right, Ambassador Ivanis,” announces the Duke of Auvigne, and the others all look at him, surprised. “Caledon Holt should be sent to the border. There’s no reason for any delay.”

“But what about the deaths here?” Lilac demands. “My priest and the—”

“Yes, yes,” interrupts Lord Burley, and Cal wonders whether the Chief Physician’s murder is something he does not want discussed in front of the Stavinish ambassador. There are already too many lurid stories in circulation. “Unfortunate business. But small, in the scheme of things, when we have . . . incidents, shall we say, elsewhere.”

Cal wonders if the deaths would be “unfortunate business” if someone more noble had been murdered, like Lord Burley himself or the duke.

“I must agree with the Duke of Auvigne,” says Hansen, staring down Lilac. “The Chief Assassin should ride as soon as possible. Ambassador, please tell Grand Duke Goranic that we are acting in the firmest possible way to deal with the crisis.”

“We’ve been training new soldiers.” The duke pours himself a large goblet of wine, oblivious to the splashes on the table and his own rich robes. “New assassins too. Holt can lead a party of our best fighting men north. No time like the present.”

“I would prefer castle business to be settled before all our assassins are permitted to depart,” Lilac says, but Cal can tell she doesn’t have any support around the table. If the king and the duke want Cal out of Mont, then there’s no way he can stay. Lord Burley would rather the two murders in the castle were hushed up than resolved. And the ambassador from Stavin wants to make himself seem invaluable to his monarch, possibly so his next posting will be to Argonia, where the weather is better, the food is richer, and the manor houses are more sumptuous.

At least Lilac wants him to stay. That’s something. But the door to the Queen’s Secret is locked now, and she is moving today to the king’s apartments, to live with him as his wife. His lover.

In his heart Cal knows his time here is up. If he’s honest with himself, it was up a long time ago—the day Lilac married Hansen.

Chapter Thirty

Lilac

This feels like the most depressing day of my life. My mother has gone. Cal is to be sent away, even though we have two unsolved murders in the castle, both clearly related to the Obsidian Monk that Varya conjured up for me in the fire. Why does no one take this threat seriously?

Carriages have been summoned for my ladies so they can return to their homes. An angry energy boils inside me. My bad temper unsettles my ladies, who are trying to organize their own things as well as transport my belongings and my mother’s to the king’s apartments. The official story is that my mother, breakfasting with the king, felt unwell, and is lying in a darkened room there to recover.

I’m tense with anxiety about everything I know and everything I don’t know. Even the crackle of the fire annoys me, and