The Thief's Daughter (Kingfountain #2)

“I truly must go,” Evie said, trying to pull her hand away.

Iago nodded and released her hand. She started to turn and leave. Then, in an act of pure impetuousness, he strode up and caught her shoulders, brought his mouth down on hers, and kissed her right there on the docks, in front of everyone—in front of Owen. It was one of those claiming kisses, the kind that makes girls swoon and invokes murderous jealousy.

Startled by it, Evie quickly pushed him back. “My lord!” she scolded, her cheeks stained with crimson. “That was . . . presumptuous!” She wiped a hand over her mouth.

“I know,” Iago said, grinning like a fool. “I’m reckless. I take risks. And I wanted you to remember me. Farewell, my lady. Until we meet again.” He bowed graciously.

There were some whistles and catcalls from the docks and—much to Owen’s vexation—Iago Llewellyn seemed to bask in them. When Owen looked at Evie, she was staring after the king.

She sighed and shook her head, and she and Owen started up the ramp. She gave him a pointed look. “That’s how it’s done properly, by the way,” she said to him.

Owen was mortified. His heart burned with feelings too savage to describe. His ears were hot, his cheeks flushed, and he knew he would never scrub the memory of that kiss out of his mind. It was Evie’s first kiss. He knew that. And it had not been with him.

As the captain ordered the sailors to shove off, Etayne approached them worriedly. She wore a cloak to cover the gown she had taken from Lady Kathryn.

“What is it now?” Owen asked with concern, seeing the look in her eyes. They had separated as soon as they arrived in Edonburick from the Ardanays and had not spoken since.

“I went down into the hold to check on Bothwell,” Etayne said softly in his ear. “He was gone. I found Clark in the cell instead. Bound, gagged, and unconscious.”

Owen’s eyes widened. “He’s down below? He never made it back to Kingfountain?”

Etayne shook her head. “I assume not. Which means Severn may already be dead.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN


Seasons




On board the ship Vassalage, sails billowing with the wind, Owen paced as he watched Justine tending to Clark’s injury, a particularly nasty gash on the back of his head that had left him unconscious and with a hazy memory. Etayne’s look was dark with worry and dread about the escaped prisoner. Poisoners were renowned for their sense of revenge, so she had much to fear from the man who had escaped.

Clark sat on a barrel in the hold, wincing with pain. The lantern swayed with the rocking motion of the ship. Evie watched in worried fascination as Justine treated the Espion.

“You can remember nothing else?” Owen pressed, trying to subdue his agitation. He felt as if they were being thwarted at every turn, and he did not like the thought of being outmaneuvered in any game, let alone the realities of life, especially not when his king’s life was at risk.

Clark tolerated the pain of Justine’s ministrations with perfect patience, although his fingers were digging into the barrel lid and the tendons were standing out on his hands. “I didn’t see who hit me. Someone was crumpled on the floor in the yonder cage.” He motioned with one of his hands. “I called out to rouse him, and then I was struck from behind. The next thing I knew, I awoke bound and gagged, with thunder in my head. I know I missed my transport back to Ceredigion. The captain surely left without me when I didn’t show up.” He frowned with melancholy. “After this, I’ll be assigned duty to watch over Dunsdworth again,” he complained bitterly. “And I deserve it.”

“Nonsense,” Owen said, rubbing his chin.

“The important thing,” Evie said consolingly, “is they didn’t kill you.”

Justine’s head jerked up, her eyes blinking wildly. She flushed a bit and then started back to work.

“Thank you, lass,” Clark mumbled to her.

“It’s quite all right,” Justine replied, looking embarrassed.

“Someone has been playing us for fools,” Owen said after a lengthy pause. “The problem is, there are too many people who wish us harm. The king has too many enemies.”

“Including his nephew,” Etayne said darkly.

Evie looked at the poisoner. “Tell me more about what happened when you went to see Eyric.”

Feeling restless energy rush through him, Owen thumped his fist against one of the deck struts. He glanced at Etayne, whose eyes were downcast. She believed she had failed in her mission. He could tell she was also worried about what Mancini would do to her. Owen was more concerned with finding out the true allegiance of the leader of the Espion.

“I believe Eyric is who he says he is,” Owen declared. “And I know that Severn would not have wanted him to be murdered in Atabyrion.” He shook his head firmly. “That Eyric survived is nothing short of a miracle from the Fountain. I’ve known the king half my life, and he is still troubled by the murders of the princes. And Lady Elyse will be thrilled to learn that her brother is alive. No, we did the right thing in sparing his life.”

Etayne’s eyes, and the expression on her mouth, spoke that she felt otherwise. “Yet he’s going to invade Ceredigion to claim the throne. You can have no illusions about that.”

“I don’t,” Owen said, agreeing with her. “Just as I believe Iago Llewellyn will join him in the invasion. We’ve wounded his pride, and he is a proud man.” The last comment he fired at Evie.

“Also a desperate one,” Evie said, taking the blow without retaliating. “His kingdom is nearly bankrupt; his nobles are all scheming. But Iago doesn’t understand the might of his enemy. He’s like a man who gambles on a throw of the dice. He risks much to gain much, but he doesn’t realize that the outcome isn’t up to chance. It’s a matter of mettle. And I don’t think Iago’s matches King Severn’s. But I understand why he’s facing the hazard. In his mind, the opportunity for reward is too great. The chance to get out from beneath the thumbs of his nobles.”

Owen didn’t like the man personally, but he agreed with her assessment. “Well, as Mancini likes to say: Two can throw the dice in a game of chance.”

“You can’t throw dice if you are dead,” Etayne said broodingly, reminding them all that the risk Severn faced wasn’t just on the battlefield.

The comment made them all sulk in despair for a moment.

“I’ve done all that I can,” Justine said after a moment, wiping her hands on the towel she had used.

“Thank you, my lady,” Clark offered in a humble tone.