The Thief's Daughter (Kingfountain #2)

It was a Wizr set, but it was far from ordinary. Owen could feel the presence of the Fountain’s magic just from looking at it.

The board was small, roughly the span of both of Owen’s hands from end to end with his fingers spread apart. The board was made out of grayish-brown stone, and while the darker squares were marble, the lighter squares were some other polished stone. The figurines of the set were the typical pieces, except they were each hand-sculpted into small, squat depictions. The king, for example, sat on a throne—like in Owen’s set—only each piece was carved with a face and an expression. One of the kings was leaning forward, resting his chin on his fist. The pieces were each highly detailed and looked to be centuries old, showing some wear and cracks. The board was already assembled, but it seemed to be in the midst of a game. Many discarded pieces were settled in the little slots around the sides of the board.

Tyrell’s face twisted with anger as he watched Owen regarding the pieces. “My lord,” he said with alarm. “You’ll have time to visit with your sister. You must make your move. Play the game.”

Owen felt something twist inside his stomach.

Eyric was enraptured by Etayne, gazing at her with adoring eyes, completely unaware of the tension around him. He kissed her knuckles and laughed softly. “Will Chatriyon still support me, Sister?” he pleaded. “When I heard you had married, I began to wonder if he wanted the throne of Ceredigion for himself. Lord Owen said as much to me earlier.”

“The game, my lord,” Tyrell said with a cough.

Eyric waved him down. “I haven’t seen my sister in over a decade, Tyrell. A moment.”

Owen suppressed a smirk, watching with pride as Etayne masterfully mimicked Elyse. Even her voice was identical.

“My lord husband,” Kathryn said in a pleading tone, looking more and more concerned.

Her words broke the spell. Eyric turned to look at his wife, then nodded obediently. He returned to the table and gazed down at the set. Owen could not determine any order from the way the pieces were positioned on the board, but he could tell by looking at them that both sides were evenly matched and in defending postures. He quickly memorized the pieces on the board, trying to parse any patterns from the previous matches he had played.

“Your move,” Tyrell repeated with agitation.

“But I don’t know this game very well,” Eyric said with unease, staring down at the board. His hand hovered over the pieces.

“What is this game?” Owen asked, standing shoulder to shoulder with Eyric as he gazed down at the box.

“You’ll see,” said Tyrell with venom. “My lord, it doesn’t really matter what piece you choose. We just need to see if you can move the pieces.”

Owen felt a prickle from the Fountain in his mind.

He cannot. But his wife can. In her womb is the Dreadful Deadman. Protect the heir.

Owen blinked with surprise and noticed for the first time that Kathryn’s hand was gently pressing her belly.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN


Loyalty




Etayne cast Owen a nervous look. He didn’t know if she had heard the Fountain’s voice or not. He was reeling from the revelation that the Dreadful Deadman was an unborn child, the son of Eyric Argentine. And he felt the imminent burden that would fall on his shoulders. He would need to protect this babe as Ankarette had protected him.

Reaching his hand toward the chest, Eyric tried to move one of the pieces of the Wizr set. But the piece resisted stubbornly, and Eyric’s face crinkled with concern as he applied more pressure.

“It’s not moving,” Eyric said worriedly.

The poisoner Tyrell frowned, seeing the failure as evidence of something. “It’s because you are not recognized as the king,” he said. “You have claimed your uncle’s throne, but you have not won it yet. Once you wear the hollow crown, you will be able to move the pieces, my lord. Not until then.” Tyrell swiftly took the lid and shut it over the Wizr set.

Lady Kathryn took her husband’s arm, giving him a worried look. “So it is true. You must earn the right to rule through conquest. My husband, I fear for you.”

He gave her a tender look and then smoothed a strand of hair from her brow. “The Fountain will aid me, Kate. Look at all the allies it has already brought.” He glanced back at Elyse and Owen, on whom his gaze rested. “Have you come to join me now?” he asked. “You spurned my offer before. I would welcome your support most ardently, my lord duke. Did my sister persuade you?”

Owen knew he had to control his expression. It was difficult when so much was happening around him. He tried to sound sullen. “The king changed when Lady Elyse forsook him. He’s a different man now. He violated the sanctuary of Our Lady, and the people nearly threw him into the river.” Owen risked a glance at Tyrell, trying to judge his reaction.

“I have persuaded Lord Owen,” Etayne said, her voice and tone mimicking Elyse’s perfectly, “to join our cause. I knew you would not trust his offer of assistance without assurance. Welcome home, my brother. The crown is rightfully yours.”

Eyric’s lip trembled with emotion. “I would take back what is ours, Sister. Uncle Severn besmirched our name, our family, and our inheritance. He sent the Espion to kill my brother and me, and Lord Bletchley ordered Tyrell, who is Fountain-blessed, to do the deed. But the Fountain forbade him from killing me. Instead, he smuggled me to Brugia. It is time to remove that monster from the throne before his madness infects the entire kingdom. He ought never to have worn the crown.”

Etayne stroked Owen’s arm. “Only Lord Owen has been able to quell his rages. I could not, in good conscience, continue to stand by him as he changed. Brother, I must return to my husband in Occitania.”

“Before you leave, my lady,” Tyrell said, his voice full of warning and disbelief. “I suggest, my prince, that you ask your sister a question. Something only you and she would know.”

“Tyrell, it is my sister,” Eyric said with a snort. “I recognize her as if we’d never parted.”

Owen knew Tyrell sensed Fountain magic, but he probably could not determine whom it was coming from.

“I know Princess Elyse as well,” Owen said. “I was raised at the court of Kingfountain. Believe me, Master Tyrell, I’d know if she was an imposter.”

“I’m sure you would,” Tyrell said acidly, his eyes churning with rage. Owen felt the Fountain boiling inside of him.

Lady Kathryn’s eyes wrinkled in concern, and Eyric patted her hand. “There is no need to fret, my love. The danger is real, but I believe the people will rally to me now that Severn has violated sanctuary. They will flock to me in droves, like sheep needing a patient shepherd. You are my queen.”