The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)

“Are you ready for the news, then?” Genny asked somberly.

When Trynne nodded, the queen continued. “Morwenna’s trial was completed last week and the Assizes rendered judgment. Nothing was rushed, and copious records were made. Polidoro performed the task of recording the proceedings with great diligence. We will be judged in the future by how we treated Morwenna Argentine.”

“Treated—you mean she’s dead?” Trynne asked, her soul feeling a pang of unexpected sorrow.

Genny nodded. “Looking at the record of the Maid, it is clear in retrospect that she was Fountain-blessed and only sought to do the Fountain’s will. She was judged harshly and condemned because of politics. We did not want to replicate the mistake, so we refused to rush to judgment. Your evidence played a strong role in the decision, but not yours alone. She was feared at the poisoner school in Pisan.

As the pieces came together, the conclusion was inescapable. She had committed treason in every possible way. And so she was condemned.”

Trynne breathed through her nose, trying to suppress a shudder. “Was she chained to the rock like the Maid? In Helvellyn?”

Genny shook her head no. “Sinia had a vision of her execution.

In the records, the way to kill a Wizr is to bury them with stones. It was how they tried to kill Myrddin, if you remember the legend.” She laughed softly. “She was taken to a cave without food or drink and a stone was dragged forth to cover it. She railed against the king the entire time, during the trial and after. She didn’t go to her death quietly. Well, at least until the stone covered the door. Your father stood vigil with guards for ten days. When they removed the stone, she was dead.”

Trynne’s voice quavered. “I’m grateful that I didn’t have to be there.”

Genny stopped and touched her shoulder. “Drew insisted you should not be,” she said gently. “He felt—we all felt—you’d been through enough. She is gone forever. Dragan’s end—well, that is a somewhat different story.”

“Truly? Were his memories restored?”

Genny nodded solemnly. “Apparently the anguish of them drove him mad. Perhaps the clarity of the Dryad’s kiss finally made him realize that he was responsible for his daughter’s death, not your father. He hanged himself two days later.”

“Let’s keep walking,” Trynne suggested. “This talk is too gloomy on such a morning.”

“It is indeed,” Genny said. “It needed to be said, though. Not all of Gahalatine’s Wizrs were captured, were they? Any or all of them could prove troublesome later. Drew is watching the Wizr board closely. What happens now that the game has ended? None of us knows. Thankfully, we do have our own Wizr—and that is a comforting thought.”

Trynne smiled, missing her mother very much. She thought of her father having to participate in Morwenna’s execution. He’d never be rid of that memory. The Dryad’s kiss guaranteed it.

“There is one more piece of news. A small matter,” Genny added. They’d walked around the castle in one giant circle. It amazed Trynne that they’d ended up at the part that led to the garden with the magnolia trees. Genny was tugging her toward the door, but Trynne resisted, pulling back.

“I’d rather not go that way,” she said, shaking her head. The memories of that place were more painful than ever now that she was separated from Fallon.

“Come with me,” Genny said, her eyes shining. It was then that Trynne began to sense the presence of another Fountain-blessed coming from the garden. She felt the lapping of the Fountain’s magic, realized it had been growing steadier as they’d neared the gardens. She sensed someone’s presence.

Trynne looked at Genny in confusion. “Is Father here? Mother?”

“They arrived last night,” Genny said with a quivering smile.

“They knew you’d arrive this morning.”

Of course they would. She was about to charge through the door to see them, but Genny caught her arm. “As I said, there is one more bit of news.” She paused, licking her lips. “It’s regarding your friend, Captain Staeli.” Genny had tears in her eyes. She swallowed, trying to keep her composure. “It’s why Mariette was crying earlier.”

“Is something wrong? Did something happen to him?” Trynne asked in anguish.

“Yes, in a sense. He . . . he rejected the king’s offer to become a duke. He said”—here she stumbled, the tears spilling from her lashes—“that your happiness was worth more to him than his own.

He’s left Kingfountain forever. Willingly.” Genny smiled sadly, her fingers squeezing Trynne’s arms. The realization finally dawned on Trynne, striking her with the force of a hundred waterfalls.

Fallon.

Fallon was here.

“We spent most of the night talking,” Genny said, sniffling, dabbing away her tears. “He’s changed so much. I’m so very proud of him. Go, Trynne. He slipped out of my rooms through the Espion tunnels and said he would meet you here.”

Trynne felt her heart bursting. She pressed a hurried kiss on Genny’s cheek and rushed through the door and into the immaculate gardens. Where . . . where? She sensed the person who was Fountain-blessed, half-hidden by the trees. The soft grass absorbed her harried march. Her tears were blinding her, her throat swollen to the point she almost couldn’t breathe. Where were her parents? She saw someone standing against one of the magnolia trees, half-hidden.

“Fallon?” she called, half croaking with emotions.

Boots disappeared. And then a seed pod sailed from the tree and landed right in front of her. It was well past summer and the season for seed pods. A few crisp white magnolias could still be found amidst the waxy green leaves, and the smell of them filled the garden. She bent down and picked it up, realizing that it was the one Fallon had stolen from the garden in Dochte Abbey.

While she crouched down to retrieve it, she saw him sauntering away from the tree. He’d changed. He looked a little older, a little wiser. There was his knowing smile, the delight that he had kept her in suspense. And it struck her forcibly that the magic of the Fountain was radiating from him.

Cradling the seed pod in her hand, she rushed up to him and they collided with a fierce hug, and he hoisted her off the ground and spun her around. She squeezed him, trying to break him in half with violent affection as he twirled her across the lawn, chuckling softly.

Everything was spinning in her mind, but it felt so good to be in this moment, so reassuring. The news was still raw, still fresh, and tears streaked down her cheeks.

The spinning slowed and then Fallon set her back down. He continued to hold her, more gently but still possessively. Their bodies swayed a little and then she felt his lips press against her hair. He was so tall it was insufferable.

The reality of him being there, him being with her inside their garden was almost too much to believe. She found herself pulling back and then she thumped him on the chest with a clenched fist three times, saying, “You . . . you . . . you . . . I’m not even sure what to call you right now.”

“So you missed me?” he asked with a heart-melting smile. “Not as much as I missed you. Trynne . . . I don’t even know where to start. What I’ve learned studying with Myrddin. What I’ve learned staying at the ruins of the abbey.” He shook his head. “We have plenty of time to speak of that later. Seeing you . . .” He shook his head in wonderment, gripping her shoulders with both hands and pushing her back a little. “I just want to drink you in. To savor this moment. How I feel right now.” He sighed deeply. “I’m usually not one to struggle with words.”

“Then don’t start now,” she said, seizing him by the tunic front to pull him even closer. “Captain Staeli . . . he traded places with you?”

Fallon nodded. “I didn’t hope for it. I had no expectations. I only found out when your father came for me . . . yesterday? I can hardly fathom it. I was living at the ruins, in the little kitchen.”

“But what about the soldiers? What about the sheriff’s men?