The Thief's Daughter (Kingfountain #2)

Clark shook his head. “The king has sent his physicians to treat her, but she continues to languish. The queen dowager’s health has been pressing on Lady Elyse quite heavily. She’s not been to court as often because of it. It’s whispered amongst the Espion that the king is grooming her to be his heir in case he’s poisoned or murdered. She’s illegitimate, of course, but something like that can be overruled if need be. They have a close bond, the two of them.” Clark gave Owen a worried look that spoke of the fear of having said too much. Owen nodded encouragingly and Clark continued in a lower voice. “For years, everyone expected him to take her as his wife. He would not, though. Not his brother’s daughter.”

“Will he let her marry, though?” Owen probed.

Clark shook his head. “No. For the same reason he won’t let Dunsdworth. Any child of hers would be a potential threat to him.”

“So she’s given her freedom because she’s been loyal to him.”

“Exactly. Dunsdworth is a fool. There’s no other word to describe him. His father was a fool too. Always scheming. Always hungering for the crown himself. There are those in the kingdom—lesser men—who would prefer a weak king like Dunsdworth to a strong one like Severn. It would ruin us all. Severn may be cruel and tightfisted, but he’s brought prosperity. The royal treasury has recovered and then some. He’s a formidable power. Atabyrion is about to learn that firsthand.”

Owen was surprised to find his contempt for Dunsdworth had metamorphosed into compassion during their walk away from the training yard and into the castle corridors. The thought of not being able to marry Evie brought him anguish. But not being able to marry at all? To have a constant companion assigned to you, day and night, would be an unimaginable fate.

But a king held such power. A king could ruin a person’s life. If Dunsdworth did become king one day, Owen could lose his duchy on a whim. He could be exiled as his own father had been. Or worse.

Owen’s thoughts turned bleaker and bleaker. If Severn had not claimed the throne as his own, he would have lost everything. He would have risked murder or exile. He found himself thinking about the image Evie had drawn for him, about the wheel spinning around and around.

It was a long walk from the castle to the docks, which were downriver at the base of the waterfall. It gave Owen a lot of time to think about his upcoming encounter with Mancini. There was a lot he wanted to say to that man, but he realized prudence would be the best approach.

Etayne had revealed to Owen in the tower that Ankarette had left a message for him. The thought that Mancini had the message had been preying on him ever since. If Owen were to ask after it, the spymaster would know that Owen and Etayne had previously encountered each other. Did he want Mancini to know that? It had been Ankarette’s greatest trick to keep her secrets secret.

His mind turned to the girl they had chosen to be the new poisoner. How had they found her? Owen still wished he had not been so unguarded about his relationship to Ankarette, but what other explanation was there for how he had ended up in her tower? Just being there had implicated him. How clever was this poisoner? Would she begin to deduce that Owen’s reputation for being able to see the future was a sham? What would she do with that knowledge if she did realize the truth? Mancini knew it, of course. But he obviously hadn’t told her.

Mancini was quite adept at manipulating the king. He always made sure that the Espion brought in news that the king would find interesting, news he would be able to act upon. While Ratcliffe had mostly responded to events, Mancini crafted them in his favor. He had made himself indispensable to Severn, always acknowledging with false humility that he served at the king’s grace and pleasure.

Now that Owen was reaching the age of his manhood, he had learned that the world always felt like a dangerous, threatening place. A place where trust and loyalty were as rare as gems and even more valuable. Owen’s loyalty to the king had resulted in his position as a duke of the realm. But trust was as fragile as eggshells. The king didn’t know that Owen had conspired with Ankarette, and even Mancini, to dupe him. Their relationship of trust was based on that long-ago deceit. What if Etayne revealed the truth to the king to further her own ambitions?

And it was Owen’s intention, even now, to use his Fountain-blessed abilities to thwart the king’s plans for Evie. The king only believed that Owen had visions. He did not know about his true abilities.

“There she is,” Clark said, huffing as they descended the stairs carved into the cliff walls. “There is your ship.”

Owen’s stomach prickled with excitement. He was going to make the most of this journey. He was going to make sure Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer did not marry anyone but himself.

Despite Mancini.

Despite the king.





Of all the kingdoms, Ceredigion and Occitania share the most similarities in regards to heritage. While other kingdoms do espouse a belief in the Fountain, many have laid aside some of the traditions and beliefs. But both Ceredigion and Occitania still execute their traitors by means of waterfalls. Both enshrine the ideal of the female in the personage of Our Lady. They carve monuments to her of stone and build fountains around them. I have read many of the local histories regarding these traditions, dating back to myths regarding the first overking of Ceredigion, King Andrew. I use the word “myth” because there is no documented evidence that King Andrew ever lived, yet every person in every kingdom believes he was a historical person, a king who left Ceredigion in a small boat and vowed to return to power when his kingdom was besieged. This is known as the prophecy of the Dreadful Deadman. The Occitanians fear King Andrew’s return. The Ceredigic people eagerly await it.



—Polidoro Urbino, Court Historian of Kingfountain





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


The Vassalage




Mancini slapped the timbers holding up the roof in the cabin. He wrinkled his nose and then nodded to Owen with purpose. “She’s a sturdy ship, lad, but not meant to withstand ballista fire.”

“What’s a ballista?” Owen asked, looking at the comfortable bed where Evie and Justine would be sleeping. Several chests had already been stowed in the room, and the rest of their belongings were being lowered into the hold with ropes. The creak and sway of the timbers made him grip a post to steady himself.

“An overgrown crossbow,” Mancini said. “Edonburick has two fortresses commanding the lake, each with probably twenty ballistae. They are burdensome to load, but give deadly fire. Fortunately, they have a weakness: the string used to load them. My Espion in Edonburick has been assigned to infiltrate those fortresses and nick the ballistae strings. Imagine loading one of those when the string snaps.” He shrugged. “It will only matter if you need to make a quick escape. I’m expecting,” he added seriously, “that the negotiations will be successful.”

Not if I can help it, Owen thought darkly, but he nodded in agreement.

Mancini folded his arms, looking annoyed. “You don’t seem to accept the current state of affairs yet. At least you’re not still sulking.”