The Thief's Daughter (Kingfountain #2)

“I can’t believe you would do this to me,” Owen said with growing agitation. “You know how Evie and I feel about each other. You’ve seen us together since we were little!”

Mancini snorted. “You fancy the girl. Anyone can see that. But Horwath has been deluding himself, and it seems you and Lady Victoria have been doing the same.” His eyes were sharp as daggers. “There is no way in the Fountain the king would allow your two duchies to be controlled by a single couple. It would rival the king’s own authority. I have consistently advised him to prevent it. Such a union would benefit the two of you, but it would be absolutely detrimental to the king’s interests.”

“I cannot imagine how!” Owen nearly shouted, shaking with rage.

Mancini pursed his lips. “You’re wroth. We should discuss this after you’ve calmed yourself.”

“We will discuss it now!” Owen insisted.

“Your wound is raw and oozing, but it will heal. You want the truth, eh? You and the Mortimer chit are two important powers in the realm. It would be an utter waste of potential to allow you two to unite instead of using you both to increase the king’s power.” He jutted his jaw at Owen. “Think on it, lad! Think on it from the king’s perspective! If Iago marries her, then he must swear fealty to Severn in exchange for his domains in Ceredigion. And it brings Atabyrion under our control through their children. You, on the other hand, have lands that border Occitania. You’ve already succeeded in growing your domains through Averanche. It’s only natural that the king wants an ally in Brythonica so that land can be used as a base to launch an invasion of Chatriyon’s realm. That entire kingdom used to be ours until the Maid of Donremy drove us out like a whipped pup. She was Fountain-blessed. Well, so are you! The king has big plans for you, boy. And those plans do not include Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer!”

Owen felt the fires in his heart burn off into ash. He was sick inside. If there had been a bucket nearby, he would have retched into it. He sagged into the corridor wall, staring incredulously at the Espion master.

“I . . . I love her, Dominic,” he said, his throat clenching with agony.

The spymaster gave him a rare pitying look. He reached out and tried to rest his hand on Owen’s shoulder, but the younger man shoved it away.

“And what does that have to do with a political marriage?” Mancini said in a disquieting way. “I had begun to fear you’d spent too many years in the North. Horwath has trained you to be a duke. You are his equal, not his inferior. He’s hinted to the king that you and Evie are fond of each other. But the king never supported such a match. Best you deal with this disappointing truth sooner rather than later, boy. It will only cause you pain if you hold out hope.”

Owen shook his head defiantly. “I’ll figure out a way,” he said.

Mancini coughed a chuckle. “You do that, lad. But if I were in your place, I’d use this trip to Atabyrion to say good-bye. She is the proper marriageable age. She would make an excellent queen. You, on the other hand, haven’t even reached your full potential yet.”

“I thought we were allies,” Owen said with suppressed fury.

“I never deceived you,” Mancini said. “You did that to yourself.” He turned to leave, then paused and looked over his shoulder. “Etayne will keep an eye on the two of you.” He chuckled softly. “She is a masterpiece of treachery, Owen. I had her trained by the very best. Remember that she is loyal to me.”





When King Eredur was forced to leave Ceredigion, he took his younger brother Severn to the kingdom of Brugia with him. They were hosted by one of the princes of its great cities. King Eredur had a wandering eye, it is said. With so many rumors abounding about this pretender, one must simply consider all the possible options. Perhaps the boy has convinced so many he is Eredur’s son because he is a child of the previous king and bears his likeness. But that does not make him a prince.



—Polidoro Urbino, Court Historian of Kingfountain





CHAPTER TWELVE


Promises




Owen paced in his chambers, his mind whirling with schemes for how he could overthrow the king’s plot to marry Evie off to Iago Llewellyn of Atabyrion. He needed to talk to her, needed to see how she was handling such ill tidings. He hated the fretfulness and consternation caused by this turn of events. Finally, the bustles and creaks in the palace started to wane.

After tripping the latch to the secret door in his room, he fetched a candle and started off toward Evie’s chamber. He was grateful that he had spent so much time wandering the secret passages of the palace under Ankarette’s guidance. His mind wandered to the King’s Poisoner in the tower, Etayne, who had taken to wearing his friend’s gowns and jewels. It made him uneasy that she would be traveling with them to Atabyrion. But what worried him even more was that King Severn had charged Owen with judging whether she should use her abilities. Defeating someone in battle was one thing. Murdering him in the dark was quite another. The prospect of being involved in such a thing did not sit well with him.

Owen traced his hand along the walls, pausing at each intersection to touch the Espion signs giving directions. These were ancient catacombs, showing centuries of use. The air smelled musty, and the wind blowing through arrow slits made little ghostly sounds that had once filled him with fear.

When he reached Evie’s quarters, he tripped the latch and gave the door a little push. There was a midsized fire burning in the hearth and the sound of splashing water. Owen quickly realized he had walked into Evie’s chamber while she was bathing.

He heard a sharp intake of breath, a gasp, and then Justine was rushing toward him, holding up a towel to block his view. “Owen! You should not be here!” the girl scolded. “Have the courtesy to knock before sneaking into my lady’s room! Out, you must go!”

“Justine!” Evie said. “Don’t shoo him away so fast. Let me dry off. I’ll be but a moment.”

“My lady,” Justine said in a warning voice. “This is hardly proper!”

Owen heard the sound of water dripping on the floor rushes, and his cheeks went crimson with embarrassment. “No, I’ll leave. I’m sorry.”

“Wait for me!” Evie said, speaking in a voice that would brook no disobedience.

Justine stood there clenching her teeth, holding up the towel and giving him a look that was full of disapproval. Her voice dropped lower. “You should not have come, Owen. If you are caught here, there will be terrible consequences for you both.”

“I know, Justine,” Owen said. Although he couldn’t see Evie, he could hear her drying herself with a towel quickly. His embarrassment grew in intensity, to the point where he was starting to forget why he had come.