The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)

The queen smiled and rubbed her arm. “Well, hopefully his visit will help resolve the situation. There will be fewer people around to distract you. I wish the Wizr wasn’t with him, but I have to say I’m grateful he left. We all felt horrible until you arrived. There was so much tension in the air despite our efforts to be civil.”

Trynne nodded. “I’m glad I missed that part. It was good seeing you, Genny.” She pressed a kiss to the queen’s cheek.

“Trynne,” Genny said hesitantly. She glanced to make sure no one else was around. “I wanted you to know that I did speak to Fallon. About the clothes you found in Morwenna’s chest. Actually, I had someone go up there and look for them. His things were there, just as you said, and it gave me the pretext of asking him about it.”

Trynne’s stomach began to churn with worry, and a queer, bitter ache throbbed inside her. “And?” She could tell the news wasn’t good because of the subdued look on Genny’s face.

“Fallon was surprised by it, actually. He said he had never been to her tower before. It was a place she never brought anyone.”

Wariness and suspicion mixed with relief, which was quickly squashed when the queen continued.

“He rode to Marshaw to ask her about it.” Seeing Trynne’s confused look, she explained, “Forgive me. Not many know of it. It’s a small manor in the Forest of Bowland, close to Blackpool. There are no ley lines in or around that wood, so Morwenna has been sent there. He confronted her with the tunic.” Genny sighed. “Well, she confessed that she’d stolen it from him during one of her stays in Dundrennan. She’d kept it in secret to comfort herself.” Genny’s gaze was piercing. “Trynne, when he returned from Marshaw, he was changed. I think Morwenna has been in love with him for some time. I don’t know much about their conversation, but he was noticeably altered. He asked Drew for permission to marry her. He promised to watch over her in Dundrennan. It’s his belief that she was fully under Rucrius’s sway, and he thinks she deserves better than to spend her life in isolation.” Her hands reached and clasped Trynne’s between them.

“When was this?” Trynne asked, nearly choking on the words, the ache inside her growing unbearable.

“It’s been two months already,” Genny answered. “Drew hasn’t given his permission yet. He wanted to be sure that Fallon’s feelings were constant. His requests have become more and more agitated and ardent. I’ve never seen him . . . well, I thought you should know.

Drew is planning to grant his consent, but he may make them wait until the Feast of St. Benedick.”

“What were you going to say?” Trynne asked, feeling miserable.

At least this settled one of her concerns. Fallon had not been wooing both of them at the same time, but she was still disappointed in how quickly his feelings had altered.

“That’s all I wanted to say,” Genny said, squeezing her hand.

“I know you’re only trying to save my feelings, but I would prefer to know everything. You said you’d never seen him so . . . ? What?

You stopped yourself just now.”

Genny was always honest, even when it hurt. “I’ve not seen him so lovesick. Not since he told me how much he loved you. I was frankly startled by the violence of his feelings. But she is a handsome woman and he has ever been vain. Her very vulnerability was probably alluring. And her secret feelings, when they finally came out, gave him succor. Something to hope for. That he’s smitten with her, I have no doubt. It pains me, but I want to see both of you happy.”

Trynne let out a strangled sigh. “Thank you for telling me the truth, Genny. And for dismissing the guards first. I’m glad it was just the two of us.”

The queen hugged her again. “Go back to Ploemeur and remind Gahalatine that he’s desperately in love with you. I wish we could prove that Rucrius was dead, but the Pisan school still won’t admit to having found his body. Even so, I know you can help him see reason. Gahalatine is still grieving from losing his sister and seeing his city destroyed. He’s misguided, but there is no reason why we cannot mend this rift. Ah, there is Reya.”

Trynne turned and saw her friend approaching. It was small comfort, but it was some. “I will do my best, Genny, but it wouldn’t hurt if Gahalatine showed more trust and humility. He should have come to me straightaway. We’ve been married for more than half a year, and look at us. We’re still strangers.”

When Sureya arrived, Trynne reached out and they clasped hands as friends. They all smiled at one another, enjoying this small moment of peace.

“My father has done all he can to persuade Gahalatine to trust you,” Reya said. “He can be very stubborn when making a point.”

“I know,” Trynne answered. “And I’m grateful he advocated for me.”

“Then you two must fix this together,” the queen said brightly.

“When you and Gahalatine return, I hope to see some evidence that things have improved.”

“I hope so too,” Trynne sighed. “I desperately hope so.”





CHAPTER SIX


Transgression


Gahalatine’s approaching visit to Brythonica was heralded with shock and nervous anticipation. The short time to prepare had driven the staff at the palace, normally staid and composed, into a fit of hurry. The arrangements started immediately upon Trynne’s return— the capital city eager to properly welcome her husband to the ancient duchy so richly blessed by the Fountain. Trynne hoped that Gahalatine would feel the presence of the Fountain magic as he entered the peaceful domain. The berry farmers were hard at work with the spring planting. The climate was mild and the sky could not have been a purer shade of blue.

Trynne paced in the audience hall, feeling her stomach tingle with both worry and hopefulness. She had sent Sureya and an escort to greet her husband at the borders of the wood. Word had reached her from Lord Amrein that Gahalatine’s mood had softened as they crossed Westmarch. He’d become more prone to laughter and intensely curious about the history of the land. But his laughter always seemed to wane, his mood to sour and darken, after he consulted with his Wizr each evening.

The company of travelers had made fast progress through the realm, exchanging their horses for fresh mounts to ensure they were not delayed.

Because the road to Ploemeur led directly to the sacred wood, Trynne had left explicit orders with her mother’s aging battle captain, Marshal Soeur, that none of the entourage was to visit the grove.

Only a command from her personally could revoke the order. Any of the Fountain-blessed who passed through that wood would sense the magic there—and be intrigued by it—but Marshal Soeur had promised that her order would be obeyed.

Thierry entered the audience hall with news from the baking guild that all the food would be prepared and in order. “They seek to honor and welcome your husband with the finest fare that Brythonica can offer,” he said with a hint of smugness. “I think, my lady, that he will be duly impressed.”

“Thank you,” Trynne answered, feeling herself start to fidget again. “Any word on their progress?”

Thierry pursed his lips and rocked back on his heels. “Word just arrived from Sir Louden that the travelers are on pace to reach Ploemeur in time for dinner, if not earlier. The meeting with Marshal Soeur at the border was amicable. No demands were made.”

Trynne bit her lip and nodded. “Excellent, thank you.”

“I have duties to attend to with the goldsmith guild,” he said, bowing to her before departing.

She walked to the nearest window seat and stared out at the beautiful cove, the rippling waters of the bay, and the city hunkered down amidst green hills decked with manor houses and gardens.

Ploemeur was truly an idyllic setting, but her fears would not be settled until she had reconciled with her husband. She would do anything in her power to soothe his concerns and regain the lost trust between them. Deliberately, she had not reclaimed the Fault Staff from where she had hidden it, for its power could be sensed by anyone Fountain-blessed.

While she believed Gahalatine genuinely wished to destroy it, something told her Albion did not share his emperor’s intentions.