The Queen's Assassin (The Queen's Secret #1)(63)

“The vizier tells me you’re visiting our great kingdom?” the king says.

“Yes,” Cal answers. “We’re headed north into Stavin.”

The king nods and says to Cal, “A lot of good hunting in Stavin.”

Cal agrees.

“Do you like fishing?” the king asks.

“Fishing? Yes, I’ve done a bit of that lately,” says Cal, without looking in my direction.

The king nods approvingly. “I spent quite a bit of time fishing at the summer palace last year. One of my larger lakes is there. Truly blissful. The trout were amazing. I’m quite looking forward to next year. I intend to spend the entire season, rather than just a month. Breeders are working on restocking the lake for me already. I want them nice and big by the time I get there. Otherwise, what’s the point?” He pauses.

“There is none, Your Majesty,” agrees Cal, and I swear I can see an imperceptible lift in one of his eyebrows.

The king nods to the vizier, who steps forward to usher us away. No! Wait, it can’t be over so soon.

“Your fields and valleys are beautiful, Your Majesty,” I blurt. How am I supposed to get the king’s attention if I don’t even address him?

“Have you seen much of the country?” The king looks in my direction as if noticing me for the first time. His eyes lazily take in the shape of my dress and wander over the low neckline of my gown. I am on display, and available for the plucking should he so desire.

I smile. “Not as much as we would like.”

The king considers that. “Do you plan to be in Montrice at the end of the week?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” says Cal, even though we have no idea if the Duke and Duchess of Girt would extend their hospitality to us for that long.

“Excellent,” says King Hansen. “Then you will both join me on the royal hunt.”

“We would be honored, Your Majesty,” I say as Cal agrees.

King Hansen nods. We bow and curtsy again. The vizier steps forward and says, “Thank you, Your Majesty,” and leads us away.

He is even more excited than we are. “Such a great compliment!” he exclaims. “A royal hunt! And guests of mine—this is good for us all. One must always be concerned with staying in the king’s favor.” He titters nervously. “Excellent job, Lady Lila. Your charms made quite an impression on His Majesty. Did you see how he looked at you?”

I certainly did, and it was unnerving.

“The king is rumored to marry soon, after turning down many suitable maidens, which makes this all the more fascinating, don’t you think?” asks the vizier.

In my opinion, fascinating is not the word.





CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Caledon

ANOTHER HUNT, AND SHADOW IS invited this time. The royal hunt, as is customary, has provisions for the ladies to participate. Duchess Girt spent all morning after the meeting with King Hansen instructing us on proper etiquette. Demanding a guest slaughter the prey is noticeably absent from her lessons, but Cal doesn’t say anything about how the duke behaved at the last one. The other day, he told Shadow what he’d overheard among the Montrician lords during the hunt. The lords are certain that war is coming to their lands—but when? And how?

For now, Duchess Girt is preoccupied with outfitting both of them. Because they are her houseguests, the duchess has taken a special interest in their appearance. The way Cal and Shadow look reflects directly on her and the quality of the company she keeps.

And the way the duchess feels about Cal and Shadow directly affects their ability to fulfill his task in Montrice.

That’s how Caledon finds himself back in a tailor shop. Being measured and draped in one fabric after another, all indistinguishable to him. Duchess Girt takes it upon herself to monitor the situation this time, though, which he welcomes since her presence prevents the tailor from asking too many questions. The basic story about Lord and Lady Holton worked the first couple of times, but now that they’ve run out of things to discuss, the nosy little man is starting to probe further.

“I want him to have the most traditional Montrician hunting attire,” the duchess tells the tailor. “But perhaps with just a touch of Argonian flavor. What do you say, Lord Holton? What sort of details do you miss from home?” She looks at him expectantly.

Thankfully, Cal is up to the task. “Well, Argonian hunting jackets always include a small green rose on the lapel, typically embroidered, to represent the defeat of the Stavinish invasion that ended the Twenty Years’ War.”

“Would you require a green rose on the lapel, then?” the tailor asks.

“Certainly,” Cal answers. “And one for Lady Holton as well. But the women never wear a green rose. Make certain it is a yellow one.”

“You are so sweet to be concerned about your sister,” says the duchess as she leans back against the chaise and fans herself, watching him.



* * *





BACK AT THE GIRT estate, the duchess presides over dinner that evening with the kind of giddiness Cal had previously seen only in children eagerly awaiting a much-desired gift.

“The Vicar of Rivefont will attend, though he is staying at the vice minister’s house, as usual, and the vizier, naturally, and . . .” She rattles off a long list of names. Cal’s thoughts begin to wander as he watches one of her dogs wrestle with a stray chicken bone at her feet. Then she says, “And Ambassador Nhicol of Renovia will attend with his husband, Mathieu . . .”