The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,106

says, “always wins.”

CHAPTER FORTY

Shadow

WE’RE SITTING AT BREAKFAST THE next morning, back at the duke’s estate, Cal with a strangely foul mood about him. He seems irritated, but I don’t recall having said or done anything to upset him last night, nor do I remember anyone else causing concern.

A footman arrives to deliver a pot of fresh tea to the table. “Excuse me,” I say to him. “But could you possibly bring me a sprig of peppermint from the kitchen?”

“Lady Lila, if you require anything, please feel free to come to me first. I am your hostess,” the duchess says. She reaches for a slice of toasted bread, muttering, “Directly addressing the staff, imagine . . .”

“Maybe that’s your major disaster,” Cal says to me out of the corner of his mouth.

Ah, so it was the fortune-teller—after that he went from having a wonderful time to wanting to leave and go to bed. Except he didn’t even believe she was a real wise woman, and besides that, nothing she said was terrible—I can’t remember every card exactly, but I do remember she said all would be well in the end. Though I suppose she could say that to anyone? I’m not certain how that type of thing is supposed to go. I’ve only had my fortune read once.

On my thirteenth birthday, when I was finally old enough to practice some magic, my aunts cast Seeing Stones for me, as they had done when they turned thirteen. At the time I thought they were the most beautiful things I’d ever seen: translucent rose quartz, polished smooth, with carved symbols accented in gold leaf. Moments after they were thrown, from a pouch Aunt Mesha’s great-grandmother had made, into a circle drawn with coal, Aunt Moriah gathered them back up and shoved them in the bag.

“What happened? Why did you do that?” I asked her.

“It was a mistake” is all she would say. Whenever I asked them to throw the Seeing Stones for me after that, they made excuses or outright refused. Which is why I was insistent on having my fortune read last night; a part of me was dying to know what the fates had in store.

A knock at the door. One of the footmen opens it. The butler walks in carrying a silver tray with a single white envelope on it, along with some peppermint leaves on a tiny porcelain plate. “A message arrived for Lady Lila,” he announces.

“For me?” Who could possibly send something to me here? He lowers the tray next to me so I can take the letter. It’s sealed with a plain, red-wax circle. No royal stamp, no identifying monogram or crest. It’s deceptively simple—exactly why the Guild uses it for secret correspondence. So no matter what’s inside, you know where it truly came from.

Cal is studying the envelope and I know he knows too.

I release the wax and take out the folded parchment. Everybody is staring, watching me. “Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing,” I say as I scan the paper. My stomach lurches. This shouldn’t surprise me. Of course they would know where I am.

It’s a short letter. Only a few lines. The less said, the better, they taught me. Always. Because you never know who else might read it.

Dearest Child,

The ambassador will send a carriage for you this evening. Make certain you and your brother are on it.

All my love,

Mother

“Bad news?” the duchess asks me.

“My brother and I have to see to our mother.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, Cal throws his napkin down on the table as if he’s ready to leave this moment. “Not an emergency, brother,” I say, holding up my hand to stop him. “Mother isn’t feeling well, but that could mean anything.”

The duchess looks as if she’s about to cry or have a tantrum or both. “B-but . . . what about the ball?”

The duke shakes his head slightly but says nothing to his wife.

“We just went to the ball?” I say, confused.

“Not that one, the other one. There’s another. Fine—I wasn’t supposed