The Queen's Secret (The Queen's Secret #2) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,93

ice pick until it’s pried from his hands. I see he’s still wearing the child’s pig ears and I motion discreetly for him to remove them. He catches my gesture and does so.

“An excellent tradition,” he says to nobody in particular. “So happy to share it this year with my wife! After we have defeated the Aphrasians together!”

Everyone within earshot cheers wildly at this announcement, and the enthusiasm spreads throughout the crowd until the noise is deafening.

We head back to our horses, Lady Taryn holding my train, though my hem is already saturated with mud from the ride here. I wish I’d worn boots, much more sensible for this weather and these conditions, because my leather shoes, laced around thick stockings, do nothing to keep the damp from seeping into my bones.

Hansen is evidently pleased with himself, particularly as he’s managed to wrangle a second tankard of ale to drink before he mounts his horse again.

“That was quite a success,” he tells me as we turn our horses to face the road home, the mounted guards closing ranks on us again. “Everyone seems to love us again.”

“Yes,” I say, unable to suppress a shiver. The sun’s power is weak today. We may be heralding the spring with songs and speeches, but it’s still the depths of winter.

“This was a good idea of mine,” he says, waving at some locals leaning over a fence. There seem to be more people out now, word of the royal procession having spread.

I choose not to point out that this outing was the Duke of Auvigne’s idea. Yes, Hansen does it every year, but he had no intention of leaving the castle today until the duke’s early-morning visit.

“Maintain the annual ritual to test the waters, as it were.” Hansen is still talking. “None of that unpleasantness of the Winter Races now, is there?”

“None,” I say, and that’s true. Something has turned, not just the weight of the season. But still, I’m anxious. I wish I could see Cal. Where is he? I wish I could ask Hansen how he intends to punish Cal, or make him pay. I can’t believe that Hansen will just let what he witnessed go without further comment or further action. The fact that he’s said nothing to me so far means little. I don’t know how to read Hansen yet—not today, anyway. But I need to think quickly and be ready to counter whatever he throws at me, or at Cal. I can outwit Hansen, as well as outfight him.

“Look at them waving at us—they’re so happy we slaughtered the demon,” Hansen says, sounding smug. I can’t let this pass without comment.

“Jander was the one who realized what was going on,” I tell him. “He worked it out, not us. He was the one who drew the crows back into the castle to poison them and flush out the Aphrasians.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” muses Hansen. He sniffs, then wipes his nose with the back of a glove. “Funny that, isn’t it? The apprentice was the one who solved the mystery. The Chief Assassin wasn’t able to.”

I brace myself. Is Hansen going to reveal something here? Is he going to tell me that Cal is demoted or fired or exiled or . . . worse? I won’t have it. Time for a counterattack.

“Jander had hundreds of years of Guild knowledge,” I say, staring at my husband. “Cal’s still young. Young like you and me and . . . Rhema Cartner.”

Hansen’s eyes dart to Rhema’s slim form, just ahead of us, riding her bay. She’s light in her seat, and her auburn hair, tied up high on her head, bounces with each of the horse’s steps.

“I don’t know what that’s got to do with anything,” he grumbles. “We may be young, but we have responsibilities. Jobs to do. Roles to play. Official roles.”

I don’t reply right away. Instead I wave to some local people gathered by a stone wall, staring at the royal procession. When we reach a stretch of field populated only by grubby sheep huddled around a trough, I turn back to him, pulling my horse closer to his.

“I was thinking of what a good team you and I made when we killed King Phras,” I say. Flattery usually works with Hansen.

“As we should.” Hansen’s sounding smug again.

“Of course. The King of Montrice and the Queen of Renovia. We may never be as popular as this again. This moment, after the vanquishing of the Aphrasians without a single battle.”

“I was

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