The Queen's Secret (The Queen's Secret #2) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,9
to invade unless these alleged dark forces are dispatched, along with me? Montrice could be facing down another war, even if he stands by me and this sham marriage of ours.
A breathless lady of the bedchamber returns, wheezing that a Guild member awaits me downstairs. I wave away the loden-green cloak someone is trying to fasten around my neck.
“It is true,” Lady Marguerite says to the others, “that His Majesty wants our queen to be happy and fit. If she is to bear royal children, she must not be weak or in ill health.”
Royal children. If I’m honest—with myself and no one else—that is the thing that has scared me most since my engagement to Hansen. And I can’t discuss it with Cal, although he is well aware that the throne demands an heir. What if Hansen insists that we consummate our marriage? I cannot refuse him, as much as I would want to.
I am married to the king, and yet I have chosen to follow my heart. Oh, Cal. The path has never been a straightforward one for us, and time makes everything more complicated. I need to get outside. Training will do me good.
Down in the courtyard, it’s noisy in an invigorating way, with the trainees on drill, the stable boys leading horses in and out of the blacksmith’s yard, and fencing practice for the best men of the guard at the eastern end. This is more like it. Even with the queen’s guard around me, there’s still enough room for my work. And in this gear I don’t draw much attention. I don’t look like the queen. I don’t look that different, in fact, from my trainer today, a Guild member I’ve never met before. She’s a young woman, slight and tense as a wild cat. She bounds up and gives a deep, awkward bow rather than a curtsy.
“Your name?” I ask her. She can’t be any older than seventeen, with thick auburn hair tied back from a heart-shaped face.
“Rhema, Your Majesty,” she replies. Her eyes are dark and there’s a glint in them that appeals to me. She’s come ready to fight, and she’s not intimidated by working with the queen.
“You’re new here?”
“It’s my third week, ma’am. I’m an apprentice assassin. From the mountains.”
“I’m rusty,” I tell her, twirling a spear to warm up my hands. Strange that Cal has never mentioned that one of the new assassins is a young woman. He’s told me all about training them, and about sending several of the less able back home. Nothing about a red-headed girl from the mountains.
“Do you want me to go easy on you, ma’am?” Her voice is neutral, but I can see the disdain in her expression. She reminds me of the old me, of Shadow. I would have seen a grand lady like Queen Lilac as an amateur, too coddled to be a real fighter.
“No,” I say, trying not to snap. I’m only two years older than her! I’m still twirling the spear when she leaps at me, feet high in the air. So impressed am I with the height she reaches that I’m a moment late with the spear block, and end up flat on my backside on the cold cobbles.
“Sorry,” I hear her say, and she grips one of my hands to haul me back onto my feet. With my other hand I clasp the spear, and in a flash take out her legs; now she’s on her back.
I clamber up, dusting grit and straw off my hands. Rhema grins.
“Well played,” she says, and we face off again, both prepared this time. I have to admit, she has impressive agility and an admirable range of fighting skills. She’s even better than my last Guild trainer, and he was excellent. She’s more nimble than I was in my prime, but I’ve always had sharp instincts that allow me to anticipate my opponent. These are acts of imagination rather than violence—that’s what my aunts used to tell me. A good fighter lives on her instincts, and fights on her nerves.
In the background, I’m conscious of a familiar voice. Cal is with the new soldiers in the courtyard now, barking commands at them. When I first hear him, I lose my concentration and end up with one arm twisted behind my back, Rhema breathing down my neck.
Hearing his voice gives me a twinge that’s half pleasure, half panic. It’s always strange to encounter him in a public place, where we have to be circumspect,