The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,86
“It’s not as if he’ll let us into his confidence right away.”
“He might,” Cal says slowly, as if something has just occurred to him. “Especially if he takes to you.”
“Takes to me?”
“You asked to be my apprentice. Seduction is part of the job,” he says with a shrug, as if he hasn’t just offered me up to the royal palate like a cut of fresh meat. “It is an easy way to gain trust.”
“Like you and Duchess Girt, I presume?” My good mood sours.
“Exactly.”
“She is certainly quite taken by you,” I snap.
He returns my gaze levelly and I break my promise not to look into those dark eyes of his. “It is an advantage, Shadow. And we use every advantage we have to fulfill the task at hand. It is what they teach us at the Guild. What you will learn if you are permitted entry.”
“Then I will make certain to arouse the king’s ardor!” I cry. “If that’s what you want.”
“What I want is immaterial; this is about the security of the kingdom,” he says.
“Is that all you care about? Oh, why do I even ask!” I turn away, shaking.
“Shadow!”
“Just go away,” I tell him.
Cal moves from the window so that he’s standing right in front of me, and I put up my hands to shield my face, just as he takes my wrists in his. He lowers them so he can look right into my eyes. His own look wild, desperate.
“Shadow of Nir, Maiden of the Honey Glade,” he says, his voice low and husky. His hands are rough from the road, but his touch has always been gentle. My wound is gone; not even a scar remains. “Renovia does not claim all my heart.”
“Caledon Holt,” I say. “What do you want from me?”
“I want . . . ,” he begins to say, but he never finishes as there is a short rap on the door. He releases me so quickly that it catches my breath.
A lady’s maid walks into the room. “The vizier is ready for you, milady, milord.”
“We will be down shortly,” Cal tells her as I search around for my satin shoes. I find them near the bed. They’re awful, pinching my toes and rubbing against my heels until they’re raw, but it’s what’s expected. I am a lady of court now, and the irony that this would have been my life if I had stayed in Renovia doesn’t escape me.
He doesn’t finish his sentence and I find I don’t care to discover what he meant to say. Cal is right, I am here as a spy and must employ every weapon in my arsenal, including, it seems, my femininity.
We’re quiet for a moment while I check my hair in the mirror and straighten my borrowed gown. It was a little big in some spots and too tight in others but the duchess’s seamstress took care of it. I fret about the neckline, that it’s too low, and fuss with ribbons around the waist.
“Ready?” asks Cal. He doesn’t say anything about my obvious discomfort in the gown nor does he finish what he began to say before the maid interrupted us.
I nod. He has ordered me to catch the king’s fancy and I only mean to satisfy. I am his apprentice, and I learn from the best.
* * *
WE ARRIVE WITH THE duke and duchess for the king’s weekly audience. There are at least a hundred people in the great hall and almost as many armed guards as there are courtiers. Cal scans the room, reading and remembering each face. Is the Aphrasian conspirator here among these obsequious aristocrats? Or is it the king himself?
King Hansen has already begun receiving visitors by the time we arrive. The senior guard bellows out names; once that person is announced, they approach the dais. I have no idea how the order is decided. One after the other, Montrice’s aristocrats are beckoned forward. I hear “Duchess Aysel,” whose name I recall from the vizier’s dinner party.