The Queen's Poisoner (Kingfountain, #1)(29)
His head whipped up and he looked at her, his eyes betraying his emotions. He nodded, but did not say anything.
“Owen,” she said softly, putting the last piece in its place. “Please understand. I only poison dangerous people. And only when it becomes absolutely necessary. I would be a little afraid if I were in your place. But I wanted to show you my tower so you would see that being a poisoner is a very small part of who I am. It is one way I serve the queen, yes, but I also serve her by giving her advice and counsel. When I was trained as a poisoner, I was also trained as a midwife. So part of my work involves death and another part involves . . . life.” She gave him a meaningful look he didn’t understand. Then she brushed her hands together. “I also try to remove threats to the kingdom without resorting to poison. I like to make beautiful things. I do a lot of . . . thinking . . . while I stitch. My mind goes this way and that, studying a situation from many angles. That’s why I am very good at Wizr.”
She put her hands down in her lap. “I want to help you, Owen. But if I am to help you, I need to trust you, and you need to trust me. I brought you to my tower. If you told anyone that I lived up here, the king would send soldiers to kill me.”
Owen gasped, feeling a prickle of unease go down his back. He wouldn’t do that!
She nodded seriously. “So you see . . . I am trusting you. But that is what friends do, Owen. I want to be your friend. Not just because the queen told me to help you, but also because I like you. I will do my best to come up with a plan to keep you safe. I will teach you Wizr. I will teach you all about poisons, so you will know by smell if something is harmful. I will give you potions that will help you breathe better and make you stronger. But Owen, I will never ask you to poison the king or anyone else. That would be wrong of me, wouldn’t it?”
Owen nodded vigorously, his eyes wide.
“The queen has not asked me to harm the king, even though he is a dangerous man. He is the last heir of the Argentine family. If he dies, there will be terrible calamity. And Dunsdworth can’t inherit because his father was guilty of treason.”
“What did he do?” Owen asked with eagerness.
She shook her head. “There is too much to explain for me to tell you everything in one night. We have time, Owen, you and I. Tomorrow, we shall talk again. We will need others to help us if we are to succeed. Liona and Drew will help. I’ll speak to them tomorrow, but we will need others to join us as well. You know Dominic Mancini, who stays in the kitchen? He could be a good helper.”
Owen gave her a little frown. “But he works for the king!”
She smiled. “He pretends to. He really works for someone else and is spying for them also. I think I can persuade him to be an ally. I can be very convincing. But your role is the most important, Owen. You will need to learn courage. You will need to do things you think are impossible. I believe you can.”
She reached out and smoothed his hair, giving him a warm smile. Owen swallowed as he looked into her eyes. Suddenly she winced like the king did when he moved his leg a certain way, but she did not drop the smile.
“Are you sick?” Owen asked.
“Tired,” she said. “Go back down to the kitchen. I will meet you there again tomorrow night. Will you do that for me, Owen? I cannot . . . make it back down the steps right now.”
He nodded, staring at the little room in wonder again. He was eager to return.
“This is our secret place,” Ankarette whispered.
Owen went to the small doorway. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Can I take the candle?”
She nodded. “Leave it on the table by the tray of food Liona left for me. Blow it out, Owen, when you get downstairs. It was nice seeing you—”
She halted, her words falling into silence. Owen stared at her a moment longer, waiting for her to say more. He had the distinct impression that she was going to say that they had met before, but he would never have forgotten someone like Ankarette.
It was midbite of a bowl of blueberry fool that I learned she’s still alive. I almost choked. I was handed a note with instructions to wait in the kitchen until after dark. It bore Ratcliffe’s seal, so I obeyed and helped myself to the sweet dessert as I waited. But the note was not from the odious Ratcliffe. It was from Ankarette Tryneowy. I jest not. By all accounts, this woman died eight years ago. I remember hearing of it and wondering at the audacity of the king’s brother, Earl of Dunsdworth, who would judicially murder his brother’s poisoner, one of the Fountain-blessed, no less! You can imagine her demise caused no small shock among the Espion, both foreign and domestic. Some say Eredur had his brother killed because of Ankarette’s death. I cannot tell you how delicious this is—the news, not the berry fool. She has promised to tell me her story. She has promised me information that cannot be bought, traded, or stolen. She is the penultimate trickster. The cunning hand. The queen of deception. And she is now my teacher. I think I’ll take another helping.
—Dominic Mancini, Espion of the Palace Kitchen
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Broken Vows
Owen’s world changed the night he met Ankarette Tryneowy. He was part of a secret now—a secret so vast and interesting that he could hardly sleep. Over the nights that followed, she taught him about the secret tunnels and passageways that lined each of the palace’s rooms. How to find the hidden latches that would open a door concealed by a painting. How to slip away a panel of wood so he could see and hear what happened in the adjacent room. She taught him how to walk quietly. How to hold perfectly still. She taught him the secrets of torchlight and shadows and how the human eye adjusts to both.