The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,121
open in a now-silent shriek, along with a growing pack of onlookers vying for a glance at what’s happening outside.
The duchess finds her voice and screams again, this time shoving people aside to get inside. As she goes, she yells, “They’ve killed the duke! Murderers! Lord and Lady Holton are assassins!”
“Caledon!” Jander spits out. He grabs him one last time and yanks him close. “The scrolls! He has the scrolls.”
It is the last thing Cal remembers before they are taken away.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Caledon
ANOTHER CELL. ANOTHER DIRT FLOOR. The room spins, hazy; objects waver in and out of focus; voices are loud, then quiet and back again. Searing pain slices through his head. He reaches up to touch the source—he has a massive swollen lump on his head.
Someone yanks him by the collar and drags him across the floor. He kicks and tries to pull the shirt away from his neck. They drop him. He coughs, spits, catches his breath. His head is throbbing. Everything hurts, everywhere. Did they beat him while he was passed out? More important, what happened to the duke’s body? And Jander? And Shadow? Where is she?
Two men lift him, one at each arm, and begin pulling him. He tries to walk. His legs feel numb, asleep; they collapse under him.
Everything around him is a blur—there are shapes, people, doorways, loud clanging noises, what sounds like scraping objects across walls.
A large door opens in front of him. Bright light blinds him—he squeezes his eyes shut against its onslaught. The guards stop abruptly and let him go. He opens his eyes, grabs on to a rail in front of him for support. Once his vision adjusts, he sees dozens of Montrician nobles around him, and in the middle of them, directly across from him, sits King Hansen.
Cal is standing in a partitioned space with waist-high wood rails keeping him away from the rest of the people in the room. He’s in a court chamber. The only way out is the way he came in, and multiple guards stand behind him.
More commotion behind him. Doors open again and other guards escort Shadow into the prisoner space alongside him. Shadow doesn’t say a word to him or look at him. He knows they can’t speak to each other but he wants her to at least look at him, so he can find some kind of comfort in her eyes. She keeps her face firmly forward.
Duchess Girt stands up in the audience and begins shouting and pointing at them: “Lowborn murderers! Assassins!” Another woman goes to her side and quiets her. The duchess allows herself to be directed back to her seat, but she is careful to ensure that the entire room hears her mournful wails.
Phony, Cal thinks. King Hansen watches her; even he looks impatient with the spectacle.
“Please,” Shadow says to the room. “Let us explain—”
“Silence!” the king roars. His lips twist into a snarl. “You trespassed in my country, gained entry under false pretenses, and murdered a man of noble birth who was a member of my court. What else is there to understand?”
I will not be able to come to your aid if you are caught, the queen had warned. He unmasked the Aphrasian conspirator and killed him. But he will die for his duty, and he has failed his father and his friend. Shadow will die as well, because of him.
Cal cannot even bear to look at her now.
As they’re led away, the vizier, wringing his hands, approaches them in the hall outside the chamber. “Why? Why did you do it?” he wails. “Now I too am under suspicion!”
Cal doesn’t answer his question. “When is our actual trial?”
“Oh dear. Don’t you understand? That was the trial. You live or die at the king’s command. And he is displeased, very displeased, indeed.”
Cal watches as Shadow is led away. He tried to save her, he tried to save Jander, he tried to save Renovia. He hopes the princess and the queen are safe. He hopes it wasn’t all for naught. But the thought of Shadow hanging because of him is too much to bear.