The Queen's Assassin (The Queen's Secret #1)(68)
“Never do this?” he asks. He brushes a hand on her cheek and lowers his face to hers. When he kisses her, she’s ready for him, and returns his kiss with fervor.
He grimaces, but continues to kiss her, wrapping his hands around her waist as she digs her nails into his scalp to pull him closer.
“Lord Callum!” The duchess gasps, coming up for air.
“Yes, My Grace?” From the corner of his eye, he catches Shadow watching him from under the desk.
Her glare could melt steel.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Shadow
I’M SEATED AT THE FAR end of a long table in the most formal of Duke Girt’s three dining rooms. As visiting guests of honor, Ambassador Nhicol and his husband are near the head of the table, where King Hansen took the duke’s place, being of the highest rank. The duke sits to the king’s left, the duchess beside him. Ambassador Nhicol to the king’s right. Cal and I are on the same side of the table as the Renovian ambassador. There are candles lit, but the light is dim and yellow, so if I keep the long tendrils of white wig around the sides of my face, I hope I can avoid the ambassador’s attention. With so many seats between us, it shouldn’t be difficult. Not to mention, I’m wearing so much kohl and rouge that my own mother would probably walk in the room and look right past me. As for Cal, he wears an elaborate white wig as well, along with a pair of gold spectacles. Between that and the outlandish Montrician high-necked, lace-collared frilly shirt he’s wearing, I almost don’t recognize him.
Plate after plate of exquisite dishes are delivered to the table, but having recently watched Cal in a clench with the duchess, I have absolutely no desire for food. Especially as I have to sit next to him while she flirts with him and he flirts back. There he is now, raising one eyebrow at her suggestively when she wraps her lips around a thick piece of steak. How much of it is an act, I have no idea.
Why do I even care? He clearly doesn’t.
“Nauseating,” I hiss when the duchess winks at him.
“Jealous, are you?” he whispers.
I sit up straight. No! Of course not. If he wants to kiss her, it’s no concern of mine! “Not jealous, just revolted by how easy this is for you,” I say. Perhaps that explained the closeness between us in the woods and in the inn; perhaps I was just another mark.
Cal takes a long sip of wine.
Duchess Girt taps her fork against the side of her goblet and the chatter dies down. All faces at the table look her way. “I would like to take a moment to share some good news with you. An important guest of ours is engaged to be married.” She raises her goblet and looks directly at us. “A toast to the happy couple.”
At first I panic, but then I remember the lie I spun about Cal’s engagement. Of course the duchess would bring that up. She wants to see if it’s true, and if it is, if it’s still happening. I finish off the rest of my champagne and pick up the wineglass next to it.
“Are they not brother and sister?” the old woman who stood in front of us at the hunt asks loudly. She looks to her husband, face scrunched in confusion. He shrugs and takes a sip of wine.
The duchess giggles. “Oh yes, Lady Helena. My apologies. I meant to say that Lord Holton is himself betrothed, but unfortunately the lady in question is not with us tonight.”
“I see,” Lady Helena says. “Who are they again?” she says about us.
“Excellent question, Lady Helena. For those who have not been properly introduced, the duke and I have had the privilege of hosting Lord and Lady Holton of Argonia.” People clap lightly; some of them nod in our direction. The duchess sips her champagne and puts it down, dabs the corners of her mouth with a white napkin. “Lady Lila, what was the name of your ancestral estate again?”
“On our maternal grandfather’s side, that would be Backley Hall, in Stavin,” I tell her with a false smile, annoyed that she has placed the spotlight on us, and worried about catching the attention of the ambassador. People on the opposite end of the table lean back in their chairs to get a look at the strange girl. I glance down, letting the wig obscure my face.
“Backley Hall,” says one of the courtiers near the king. “I don’t think I’ve heard of it.”
“Oh, the vizier can tell you all about it,” says the duchess. “I hear he has a personal connection. Maybe he’d be willing to share?” The duchess leans forward, making the diamond earrings that hang to her shoulders swing and glitter in the light. I’m suddenly self-conscious of my own naked ears.
I hate to admit it, but the duchess is very, very pretty. She’s all rosy cheeks and gold hair, and so small and feminine and soft. Maybe Cal even enjoyed kissing her. I take another long draft of my wine.
“My pleasure!” The vizier begins to stand. A footman rushes forward to pull the ornate golden chair out for him. He launches into the same story he told the other day, about Lord Holton the Elder leaving him an emerald ring.
“Are you all right?” Cal asks worriedly when I almost tip over the finger bowl.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry I can’t be more elegant, like your gorgeous girlfriend, Duchess Flirt.” I’m practically snarling. And probably being far too loud. I don’t even care.
“More champagne, lord, lady?” A footman leans forward between us.
I hold out my empty flute.