The Hollow Crown (Kingfountain #4)

He crinkled his eyebrows. “So you wish you were his son?”

She shook her head. “No, I just wish that women were given the same opportunities. You heard Myrddin’s prediction. An enemy force is coming to invade us. We’ll need every boy and man to help defend our realm. What if we need more than that? What if this war is so terrible that we’ll need every girl and woman too?” She stared down at her lap, the secret she carried burning inside her soul like a hot coal. She wouldn’t let her father be killed. She had to save him.

He was quiet for a long while. When she looked up, he was staring at her, and the look of respect in his eyes made her blush.

“Well, Trynne, I for one wouldn’t want to face you in battle,” he said at last. “You are the fiercest, most stubborn . . . determined little girl that I know. I may be older than you, but I’m not wiser than you.” He gave her a sidelong grin. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”

She started to smile, then caught herself and stopped.

“I wish you hadn’t done that,” he said with a sigh.

“Done what?”

“Why did you stop smiling?” he demanded.

She stared at him, feeling a sickly cold go through her, ruining the warmth of the moment and souring his compliment. “You know why, Fallon,” she whispered, shuddering. “You were there when it happened.”

“I know I was there, Trynne. And I wish it never had. I wish you’d gone with me to fetch those pies.” He pressed his knuckle against his nose. “But it did happen. You can’t change the past.”

“I know that,” she countered, feeling defensive. “But I also can’t pretend that I’ll ever be pretty like Morwenna. I know that people pity me. They look at me . . . as if I’m cursed or something. I can’t make my mouth smile. It’s lost.” There was that familiar sadness again, that bleak feeling that rose up inside her whenever she thought about the attack. Why were they talking about this now? It was ruining the moment they had just shared!

Fallon shook his head slowly. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it.

“What’s done is done,” he said with a sigh of regret and then got to his feet. He reached down and offered his hand to help her rise. She accepted it, noticing how warm it was against hers.

“I’m going to miss this place,” he said, gazing around the garden. “It may be years before I come back. But at least I know I will see you again. You see, I am determined to win the Gauntlet. So I will be coming to Ploemeur and competing for the badge from Brythonica. Try not to make the test too easy for me.”

“It’s a test of wits as well as stamina, Fallon,” she reminded him. “You’ll be at a disadvantage.”

“Ouch, cruel barb!” he said, planting his hand on his chest and grimacing. “I’m reminded that being in your company is akin to dwelling amidst hornets. There’s a strong likelihood of getting stung. Well, let me claim my prize from the garden. It’s spring and the magnolia flowers are truly a precious thing that I will miss.” He reached up and plucked one from a low-hanging branch. “This one is for you, Cousin. And I’ll claim the better one, here, for myself.” He snapped off not just the flower, but also part of the branch. “Don’t eat the seeds,” he said. “They’re poisonous.”

Trynne cupped the large flower in her hands and gazed at it. “Thank you,” she said in a soft voice. There was much she wished she had the courage to say.

But she did not.

Fallon lifted the flower to his nose. “I’m eager to face the challenges of the Gauntlets, despite your jests. I intend to master them all. I hope you will cheer for me, on occasion, from the galleries?”

She gazed up at him, conflicted, all the while wondering how she could find a way to face them herself.





PART II

Knight





Where there is reverence, there is fear, but there is not reverence everywhere that there is fear, because fear has a wider scope than reverence. We fear what we cannot see. We fear what we do see. We fear what we cannot know. We fear what we do know. We fear what may not happen. We fear what does happen. Death may be the greatest of all human blessings. If only because it finally puts an end to fear.

Myrddin





CHAPTER EIGHT


Ley Lines




Sometimes it felt as if Trynne’s heart were slowly twisting in half. She was exhausted all of the time, but pushed herself to succeed even though it felt as if her mind and body would be sundered by the double life she lived. In the two and a half years that had passed since Drew and Genevieve’s wedding, she had taken to rising before the sun each day so she could train as a warrior under the tutelage of Captain Staeli. She climbed ropes fastened to rings in the walls. She lifted and hurled heavy sacks of grain. She could handle weapons ambidextrously after the constant practice, though she had been surprised to discover she was slightly better with her left hand than with her right. The training was rigorous, frustrating, and she ended each session with the determination to do better the next day.

She was equally determined to continue keeping her parents in the dark about it.

Once she had bathed and changed from the clothes of the training yard into the silks of a duke’s daughter, she lived a completely different life. She accompanied her mother on her noble responsibilities as Duchess of Brythonica, and also spent hours each day poring over books that held the secrets of becoming a Wizr. They were tedious and difficult to translate, and the work did not come naturally to her at all. She often found herself daydreaming about being in the training yard and thinking of a new way to deflect and parry blows with multiple weapons. When she caught her mind wandering, she’d get frustrated at herself and redouble her efforts to learn the arcane text. But her heart was not devoted to it, and she yearned for the simplicity and innocence of her childhood.