The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,28

sip the tea.

* * *

I TOSS AND TURN well into the early hours of morning, thinking about what I overheard. At some point I must fall asleep, though, because the next thing I know, my mother is standing over me at the side of my bed. Her back is to the open window so that the moon glows in a vibrant yellow ring around her. She is dressed in Guild black, her face obscured in the darkness of her hooded cloak. Before I can react, I feel her gaze lock on me. I can’t see her eyes, but their intensity sears my soul. When she finally speaks, her words settle into me like the warmth of a hearth. “Follow your path and fulfill your destiny, Shadow.”

After that it’s morning. My eyes flutter open; the sun is shining through the window. And I decide that this time I will follow my mother’s command.

CHAPTER NINE

Caledon

NIGHT TURNS TO DAY, AND then to night again. And again. Soon enough Cal’s imprisonment has lasted nearly a week. To him it feels more like a year. The days drag on and on endlessly. Mornings are spent doing push-ups and pacing the perimeter of his round cell, what he has come to assume is a converted bedchamber in the fortress’s east turret. He considers stuffing his wool blanket with hay to create a fighting dummy so he can keep in shape, but he’s reluctant to make his sleeping conditions any worse than they already are, especially since he’s no longer so certain this will be a short stay.

There are no books to read, and no letters arrive in the post. He has no idea what’s happening outside the prison walls, no way of knowing when he will be released. It’s maddening.

He examines the handkerchief over and over again. Holds it up to the bit of sunlight that streams in the tiny cell window every morning, in case there’s something he missed, perhaps a secret message written in milk or lemon juice—but there’s nothing.

Maybe the handkerchief itself was the code, and her words: You’re not alone. He may be reading too much into the encounter—she could have merely been a sympathetic bystander. But there was something familiar about her . . . When—if—he finishes the task in Montrice, he decides he’s going to find her.

In his isolation, he tries to keep his mind nimble. He runs over the list of courtiers at the palace. It’s impossible that the grand prince was acting alone. There are surely other traitors at court, and what good is Cal if he’s trapped behind bars? He can’t do his job here. There aren’t even other prisoners nearby he can extract information from. That may be for his protection; but it could also mean Queen Lilianna is keeping him isolated to protect others. He doesn’t want to believe that, but under duress his mind is going to dark places.

Cal scratches a mark into the wall for every night he sleeps on the cold floor, on top of the increasingly filthy hay. Good thing I didn’t wear my best clothes to Violla Ruza.

Though he tries to keep the thoughts away, at night Cal’s mind wanders to his father. When sleep finally comes, Cal dreams of him. They’re usually sitting in front of the hearth back home together. Sometimes Cordyn speaks to Cal, though when he wakes he can’t remember anything the man said. Sometimes all Cal sees is the back of his head, looking up at it, like he’s a child again, following him on a crowded street, scared they’ll be separated and he’ll be lost.

Cal wakes and sighs. If he wasn’t bound to Queen Lilianna, he wonders what his life would be like now. It certainly wouldn’t include a stint at Deersia. But there is no escape from a blood vow; he’s learned that the hard way.

It first happened after his father was killed. He was only thirteen. Rash and angry, old enough to desire freedom but young enough to feel orphaned, abandoned. He knew about the vow by then, of course, but he figured he could flee from it; perhaps, if he hid from it long enough, it would die with him instead of being passed on. At least, that’s what he thought.

He’d packed up a

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