The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,123

up, ready to take down anyone he has to in order to escape—or at least try. He’s not going to the scaffold willingly, or easily.

The person standing at the door is not a guard, not even a person of the temple sent to comfort him in his last moments. It’s the vizier, swathed in all his flowing robes and ridiculous furs, a ring squashed onto every stout finger. Why is he here? Cal wonders. Does he want to unburden his conscience about something?

The vizier bows. “My deepest apologies for the events which transpired yesterday. I pray you will accept my request for forgiveness, as it was an unfortunate misunderstanding.”

What? What misunderstanding? Cal can’t even speak; words won’t come out of his mouth. He can’t figure out how to respond to that—an apology?

The vizier stands up straight. “If you will, please, follow me.” He begins to leave the room. Cal doesn’t move. The vizier looks behind him, waiting.

Is this a trick? A trap? He isn’t sure what to do. What if this is just a way to make me go without a fight?

“I assure you, there’s been an error since rectified,” the vizier says.

But Cal can still hear the commotion outside. He closes his eyes. What should I do?

He hears his father’s voice inside him: “Go.”

Cal’s eyes snap open. The command was clear, as if he’s standing right next to him. He decides to listen. One way or the other, there is no option but forward. Perhaps following the vizier will lead him to a better opportunity to flee, even.

He nods at the vizier and follows behind him, but keeps a safe distance in case he’s about to be ambushed. The deeper they walk into the building, the less he can hear, until eventually the sawing and hammering fades away altogether. Now all he hears is their footsteps.

They are deep in the dungeons. A man screams from somewhere within the lower levels of the catacombs. Cal startles. The vizier, without looking back or pausing, says, “Ignore that.”

They take winding steps up a tall tower. There are long skinny windows in the tower staircase; he can finally see what’s being built in the courtyard, and it’s not gallows, but something even more puzzling: a stage and rows of seating, as if a joust were to take place. The stands are being decorated with the green of Montrice on one side and purple for Renovia on the other.

He’d heard of this before, though never outside of Argonia: public combat. That’s what he’s going to have to do. Fight a Montrician knight, probably to the death, for the crowd’s—and King Hansen’s—entertainment.

Fine with Cal. He is willing to fight for his life, and fight it will be. He has no doubt he can win, and when he does, he is determined to find the Deian Scrolls, and finally, freedom. There is some hope after all. Silently, Cal thanks his father for the message. He’s glad he didn’t try to take the vizier down at the cell, because he might not have made it out, and even if he’d survived an attempt to run, he wouldn’t have this chance again.

At the top of the steps they enter a tower room. Cal is stunned to see it’s more than just a room; it’s a sumptuous bedchamber outfitted for someone of extremely high rank.

“What is this?” he asks the vizier.

“A token of our regrets,” he says. “You’ll find new clothing laid out for you on the bed, and a freshly drawn bath.”

“Where’s my sister?” Cal asks. This unexpected development makes him more suspicious than anything else.

The vizier’s face changes but he answers. “You’ll see her a bit later, when we return to bring you to the great hall. I pray you like the clothing chosen for you. If the bathwater is too hot, or not hot enough, please call.” He motions to a large silver bell on the bedside table. “In fact, should you need anything at all, please call. A personal servant will hear.” He bows and then says, “Oh! And food is arriving shortly. Again, all my deepest, most sincere apologies.” He bows again. Then he scurries from the