The Thief's Daughter (Kingfountain #2)

He could sense a hive of black thoughts. Yes, my lord.

Owen circled back, bringing his horse into the trees for cover. He wondered whether he had done the right thing in revealing himself to Eyric. He grit his teeth, angry that the man was too afeared of his uncle to accept Owen’s words. He was angry, but he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. The man had been trained his whole life to fear Severn, to mistrust him. And now he had a beautiful wife who was the daughter of Atabyrion’s wealthiest earl. What promises had he made to her? What promises had he made to everyone else? No, Owen realized that it had been naive for him to believe he had even the slimmest chance to change his mind. But he also couldn’t stomach the thought of murdering him, especially since he knew the king’s own feelings argued against it. He was an enemy to Ceredigion, but he was no traitor. He had a claim on the throne, if a weak one. Like Etayne, Owen was troubled by the thought that he’d failed in his mission. He had come to prevent a war. And from the way things were shaping up, he’d probably contributed to starting one instead.

Where are you? he thought, reaching out to Etayne. The trees ghosted past him, and the horse was tense and nervous, snorting angrily at its rider.

Silence.

Owen’s heart thrummed with worry. He could see part of the estate through the trees ahead. He’d taken his mount into the woods on the side closest to the ivy-thick edge he had shown her in his mind. If he got too close, he would be seen. He reached out with his senses, listening, and heard the sound of men and horses. Through the trees, he could see Eyric was in the front of the manor, talking to the guards. Groomsmen were bringing up horses from the stables, one at a time. Owen wiped the sweat from his upper lip. Eyric was going to ride after him. He could hear the murmuring of voices, but at this distance, they were indistinguishable even to him.

Etayne! he thought again, gritting his teeth.

No answer.

His horse snorted loudly, and Owen frowned, hoping the sound had not been heard over the ruckus. “Where are you?” he muttered angrily, staring at the manor, feeling the hard saddle beneath him.

Then he saw her slipping out the rear door of the ivy-choked house. Suddenly there was a scream and a shout. “Over here! There’s one of ’em here! She just left out the back! Hurry!”

The men milling around the entrance came running. One of the guards was mounted, and he kicked his beast into a trot.

Owen saw Etayne slip into the woods, wearing a pale white gown, Atabyrion in style. It was one of Kathryn’s gowns. He clicked his tongue and whistled, and her eyes darted over to him. A look of relief crossed her face, and he met her partway. Reaching down, he took her hand and swung her up into the saddle behind him.

“Why didn’t you answer me?” he snarled at her.

She shook her head, her expression darkening. “I couldn’t hear you. My magic . . . my magic failed.” There was an exhausted look on her face and she swayed a little in the saddle. Now he understood. She had expended her power in trying to maintain her illusion for too long. Her capacity would grow with time and practice. He realized that if she’d stayed behind, she would likely have fallen unconscious.

“I’m glad you listened to me,” he said with maybe a bit too much self-satisfaction.

“In the trees! Over there!”

“I see them!”

The voices startled Owen and Etayne.

He sighed. “Hold on to me tightly. I want to get to Edonburick before Eyric.”

Etayne nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist, tightening her grip on her wrists. “Thank you,” she whispered. The look in her eyes was revealing, vulnerable. He smiled at her and turned away, wondering what she was thinking. In truth, he was afraid of what the look meant. She was the daughter of a thief, a sanctuary man. He was the Duke of Westmarch.

And his heart belonged to an earl’s daughter.




“I don’t understand why you must depart so quickly,” Iago said as they walked down the many wooden steps leading to the docks. Owen was a few steps behind, watching Evie and the king as they walked ahead of him. “Surely you can wait until tomorrow? I thought you wanted to see Eyric and Kathryn yourself?”

“I did, my lord,” Evie said evasively. “But I received an urgent summons back to Kingfountain. I must depart at once.”

Iago looked upset. “What does that mean? Why would Severn want you back so quickly? I was really enjoying our walk today and felt we were making strides. You’re a remarkable woman. I was expecting your stay to be much longer.”

“I must go,” Evie said. She glanced back at Owen with worry in her eyes. She knew about the disaster that had unfolded at Eyric’s lodge, so she was just as eager as he was to seek refuge back in Ceredigion. They did not have much time to take their leave. Iago looked like a disconsolate puppy. Owen wanted to kick him. Etayne had ventured ahead to tell the captain to make ready.

They reached the bottom tier of the docks. The sound of the waterfall made soft communication difficult, so Iago raised his voice. “When can I see you again?”

Evie looked flustered by the persistence of his attentions. “I don’t know, my lord,” she stammered. There was some noise from higher up on the platforms. Evie glanced up, and her face went pale. “Well, it seems you have some court business that requires your attention. I thank you for your hospitality.”

Iago turned and looked back up the ramps. Men were waving down and shouting, but their words were lost in the noise. Iago frowned in annoyance. Evie was about to walk down the pier toward the ship, but Iago caught her arm. She stared at him, her eyes blazing with the fear of being caught.

“I wanted you to know,” Iago said, stepping toward her. He gently took her hand with both of his. “That I have given sincere thought to Severn’s offer. Of a truce between our kingdoms. I can’t tell you how tempted I am.”

The words sickened Owen. He grit his teeth, scowling, wanting to be away from Atabyrion and their peculiar customs and fashions. He wanted to be back in his own realm, his own kingdom, wearing his own badge. Iago wasn’t looking at him, but he stared at him heatedly all the same.

Evie was silent, her cheeks a little flushed.

“I am bound by honor to help Eyric. I wish I had met you prior to giving my oath. But I promise you, Lady Mortimer,” he added with a devious grin, “that I consider you a friend. That I will speak on your behalf when Eyric rules.” He brought her knuckles to his mouth. His look was suddenly vulnerable as he gazed at her. “You have the most bewitching eyes,” he murmured softly, and Owen nearly rammed him off the pier into the fish-soiled waters.