The fire in the hearth in the solar roared and crackled, and Trynne warmed herself in front of it. She had changed from her battle clothes into a lady’s gown and enjoyed the feeling of satin on her skin. There were bruises all over her body, but none of her wounds were serious or deep. She glanced toward the window seat, where Gahalatine sat with arms folded, watching her with an entranced smile.
Drew spoke in a low voice with one of the Espion, who would relay messages immediately to Kevan Amrein back at Kingfountain, alerting him of the truce and the sudden change of events. The Espion bowed and left the three of them alone in the solar. Drew clasped his hands behind his back and turned to face Gahalatine, giving him a probing look.
“Any news from your Wizrs?” he asked.
Gahalatine nodded. “Contact has been made with the Grand Duke of Brugia. The rescue is under way. Many of his soldiers are frostbitten, but we will treat them. Those who fell behind are being searched for. We will save as many as we can.”
“Thank you,” Drew said. “I was not in a position to offer much aid.”
Gahalatine smiled and bowed his head. “I will do what I can to alleviate the suffering I have caused.” He looked at Trynne, who felt a smile of gratitude tug at her lips. Gahalatine beamed when he saw it.
Drew noticed the subtle interplay between them and arched his eyebrow. “How will your people react to this news, my lord?”
Gahalatine leaned back against the window, looking thoughtful. “The Mandaryn will be violently opposed. They control the bureaucracy. But the military is loyal to me. I can also be very . . . persuasive, King Andrew. My people may need some time to accept this change. But I do not doubt that they will come to see the advantages as I have. I would like to invite you to visit us in the Forbidden Court. To see for yourself what the East Kingdoms offer to your splendor.”
Drew arched his brow again. “You used the word us. And I’ve noticed the way the two of you have been looking at each other.” He scratched the corner of his mouth as if trying to subdue a grin. “You said your surrender was unconditional. But is there an understanding between the two of you? I sense that there is.”
Gahalatine said nothing, but he looked at Trynne with a pleased and humble smile. She stroked the warm fabric on her arms, savoring the sensation and the feeling of calm assurance in her heart. She walked over to the window seat and sat next to Gahalatine, taking his hands in hers. He caressed her fingers with his thumb, and she gave him a shy glance.
“When I went to Chandigarl,” Trynne said, looking over at the king, “Gahalatine promised me his troth and I declined it by fleeing his presence. My first loyalty and duty has always been to you and your wife. But I did promise him, when we were discussing terms, that I would be his wife if he swore fealty to you. Truly, my lord, he has no guile. He trusted my word just as I trusted his.” She heard the door open as she turned to Gahalatine and spoke the next words. “I do accept your troth.”
Drew turned at the intrusion, and they all saw Fallon standing in the doorway, leaning on a crutch. The look in his eyes filled Trynne with pangs of regret. He did not look startled. He did not look angry. He looked defeated. But he rallied himself, putting on a complacent mask.
“My timing is always infallibly, imperturbably, and impressively punctual,” Fallon said, forcing a chuckle. “I nearly missed the best part.” He hobbled inside, wincing at the pain in his leg, and shut the door. His mask of affability was firmly in place, but Trynne knew him well, and she saw the pain in his eyes. “Well, my lord Gahalatine, let me be the first to wish you both well. When are the nuptials? Did I miss that part?”
“No, Fallon,” Drew said, giving the duke a surprised look. “I only just found out myself.” He turned back to the couple at the window seat. “And so,” Drew said, encouraging her to continue, “you’ve accepted him?”
“I have,” Trynne said, gazing into the king’s eyes, not daring to look at Fallon again. She could feel the concern in Drew’s words, his unspoken question. He was wondering if she had sacrificed herself to save his kingdom. She rubbed Gahalatine’s arm with one hand. “My lord, my mother once had a vision of my marriage. Even though she is not here, I believe this fulfills it. I’ve . . . been expecting something like this. For some time.”
Drew nodded, pursing his lips. “If this is your decision, Trynne, I will not countermand it. Regarding the nuptials, has anything been decided? I will honor any terms you both agreed on.”
Gahalatine smiled and leaned forward slightly. “Urgently would be my desire. I explained to Lady Tryneowy that the laws of my realm forbid a man from consummating a marriage with a lady who is not of age if her parents are dead or cannot present her. In your kingdom, she is of a suitable age to marry. But in mine, we cannot be man and wife in truth until she turns eighteen or until one or both of her parents grant their consent. It would be wise, therefore, if some distance separated us in the interim. There is much that I must do to repair the injury I’ve done to Ceredigion. There are troubles in my own lands that I must address. But I would marry her this very day at the sanctuary of Our Lady if your lordship will permit it.”
“Our Lady,” Drew said, nodding as he thought on the words. “My own dear wife has been in hiding there. I should like to see her again.”
“Perhaps we can all go there together?” Gahalatine suggested. He rose from the window seat and brought Trynne, who was still holding his hand, up with him. “I will happily surrender the castle back to you, and we can end this conflict.”
“I think that would suit us all perfectly well,” Drew said. He turned to Fallon and raised an eyebrow.
Trynne risked a look at him, and part of her was relieved to see his mask still in place. “I’m unfit to travel at the moment,” Fallon demurred. “While I would regret missing out on the marriage, I think it would be better if I stayed behind. I do have some news for you, my lord. Lady Trynne may wish to hear it also?”
“Go on,” Drew said.
“It concerns the thief Dragan,” Fallon said. He was looking at Trynne as he spoke. “I heard a report before the battle that he was dead.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t true. He awakened, but he was a changed man when he did. He began raving. He didn’t know who he was, he said. Or why he had been jailed. The man cannot remember his own name.”
The king wrinkled his brow, full of doubt. “He can no longer remember?”
Fallon nodded. “I’ve spoken to him myself, my lord. He looked at me as if I were a complete stranger. He doesn’t know the name of our kingdom. He doesn’t know why he was captured. His memories have all been stolen.”
The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)
Jeff Wheeler's books
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