The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,99
back onto the shelf. “Thanks for the lesson,” she says. “You’re a wonderful teacher and an even better actor.”
“What? No . . . wait! That’s not . . .”
But she doesn’t answer. She runs out the door, leaving him alone in the duke’s study.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Shadow
THE SMALL BALL IS TOMORROW night. Cal is undertaking a dress rehearsal with the costumes that have been made for us. “I look like a fool,” he says, frowning at his clothing.
We are easy with each other, having entered into an unspoken agreement never to discuss what happened between us the other day—the “lesson”—and me running away from it. He was making a point about espionage, nothing more. I have to stop thinking about his kiss. Obviously, he’s more than forgotten about it.
As for the true identities of our hosts, we have agreed to keep a wary eye on them but decided it is safer to stay at the estate than to tip them off to our suspicions by leaving.
So the Small Ball it is.
“Oh, stop pouting,” I tease him. “You look rather elegant, if I do say so.” I smile, thinking of the Queen’s Assassin fretting over a dancing costume.
“I’m not pouting. Consider the practicality. Look, I can’t move my arms”—he demonstrates by lifting his arms to show me how confining the metal breastplate is—“and the cape is so heavy. It will slow me down if we encounter any problems.” He fusses with it, yanking the front tie down. “And it’s choking me!”
I laugh and reach out to help him tie a better knot. “You had it too tight.” We haven’t stood so close together since the kiss. I finish quickly and back away. “There. Is that better?”
He nods but continues to fuss with it. “The king’s upcoming engagement will most likely be announced at the Small Ball. A marriage to a princess of Argonia or Stavin will strengthen his army and forge a greater alliance against Renovia. The royal houses of Argonia and Stavin are already unified through a great-grandmother. Only Renovia remains apart.”
“Or maybe he’ll marry our Crown Princess Lilac,” I say. “Wouldn’t that be something.”
“I’m sure the queen has considered it,” says Cal. “It would be a pathway to peace between the kingdoms.”
“Poor Princess Lilac,” I say.
“Is Hansen so unappealing?” Cal asks.
I shrug. “King Hansen is fine, a little pompous and a little vain, and our enemy of course, but he seems harmless. I just meant how sad not to be able to choose whom to marry, even as a princess.”
“We all have our duty to fulfill,” he says, continuing to fidget in his formalwear.
A thought occurs to me. Cal’s nervous. I’ve never seen him this way before. “You don’t know how to dance, do you?”
“I know how to dance,” he says indignantly. Then reconsiders. “Generally speaking. But the Guild does not offer their assassins formal training in the art, no.”
I laugh. Growing up I learned all the court dances from village fairs and festivals. Plus all the lessons from Missus Kingstone over the years. “It’s easy. Believe me—they can’t do anything too complicated in those wigs.” I look at his chest. “Or that armor. I’ll teach you.”
“There’s no need. I can stand in the corner with my sword and cape.”
“Unacceptable. Nobody will believe you’re Lord Holton of . . . oh, what is it? It’s been called so many things by so many people I don’t know what’s right anymore.”
“Backley Hold,” he says.
“Exactly. Listen—nobody will believe you’re Lord Holton of Backley Hold if you don’t dance. All highborn men of the realm know how to dance. They love dancing. So let’s get started.” I hold my arms up. I wait for him to come toward me but he just stands there. “Come on. You need to be a lot closer to me than that,” I say.
He takes a few reluctant steps forward. “Really, this feels entirely unnecessary. I’ll have you know I’ve gotten by just fine all these years without dance lessons.”
“But it is necessary if we are going to uncover what’s truly going on here in Montrice. Remember