The Queen's Poisoner (Kingfountain, #1)(35)

“Why are we getting married?”

She set down the tiles. “You have to get married someday, Owen. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I know that, but . . .”

“Everyone has to get married. Even the king got married, all bent as he is. His wife was from the North, you know, and she was lovely. I’m so sad she died. She used to braid my hair. The prince was ten when he died of a fever. That’s only two years older than us. I thought I might marry him someday.” She shook her head. “I like you better.”

“But . . .”

“Really, Owen Kiskaddon, it’s not difficult to answer! The North or the West? You must learn to make decisions. I think we’ll live in the North first, and then the West. That way, you can choose which you like better. I think I’ll always like the North better. But I haven’t lived in the West before.” There was a dreamy look in her strange-colored eyes as she gazed at the tiles spread out on the floor in front of her. In the light, they were looking greener. It’s like they had started off deciding to be blue, then changed their mind and turned gray, and then switched to green just at the very end, around the fringe of her inky black pupils. That was so like her!

“I’m not getting married,” Owen said forcefully.

She set down the tiles and looked at him. “Everyone gets married.”

“The prince didn’t. He died.”

“You’re not going to die, Owen. The prince was always coughing. I’ve never heard you cough. You’re not sickly at all.”

Ankarette’s potions had been helping him breathe better. But he knew something the Mortimer girl didn’t. Owen looked down at his lap. “The king wants to kill me.”

She sat up quickly, her face growing pale with concern. “No, he doesn’t. That’s the silliest thought I ever heard.”

Owen was feeling hot again, his ears burning. She was looking at him with concern and sympathy. She edged closer. “Why would you think something like that?” she whispered.

“I’m his hostage,” Owen replied darkly. “That’s why I’m here. If my parents do anything to spite him, he’s going to kill me. He killed my brother already. It’s true.”

All the happiness drained from her face. In its place came an implacable anger. “Well, I won’t let him do it. I think that’s silly. No one kills a little child.”

Owen was feeling a little annoyed. “He already has,” he mumbled.

“What did you say?” she demanded.

“He has. Everyone knows about it. His brother had two sons. They were hostages, too. He killed them.”

“It’s not true,” she said angrily. “Not everything that’s whispered is true, Owen.” She reached out and seized his hand, her fingers digging into his flesh. “Don’t believe the lies.”

Owen gave her a challenging look. “Your grandpapa knows.” He glanced around the kitchen, a dark, brooding feeling enveloping him. “None of us are safe here.”

Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer stood and marched out of the kitchen, tossing her dark hair back over her shoulder.

Owen was glad she was gone. Mostly.




In the middle of the night, Owen was playing Wizr with Ankarette in the poisoner’s tower and telling her everything he could about the castle’s newest guest, the duke’s outspoken granddaughter. Ankarette liked to talk as they played the game, which forced him to speak and think at the same time.

“I don’t want to marry the Mortimer girl,” Owen said, blocking one of Ankarette’s attacks.

“She has decided opinions about many things,” Ankarette said, with a hint of amusement in her voice. “It’s a trait of those from the North. They tend to be outspoken.”

“Her grandfather isn’t,” Owen said glumly. “He never talks at all.” He grimaced when he realized her next move threatened him in two places at once. Since he would lose a piece regardless, he decided to sacrifice the lesser one. But he stopped himself before he made the move. Instead of responding to the threat, he positioned one of his pieces to threaten another one of hers.

“Well done, Owen,” she praised. “Counter a threat with a threat. An excellent strategy. Horwath is loyal. He’s not as outspoken here at court because this isn’t his power base. If you were with him up in the North, there’s a chance he would come across differently.”

“That’s where she says we’re going to live when we get married,” Owen said bleakly. He looked up at her face. “Can she force me to marry her?”

Ankarette pursed her lips. “No, Owen. It’s normal for girls to think about marriage. She really won’t have much choice in the matter at all. Girls seldom do.”

That gave him some relief. It’s not that he didn’t like the Mortimer girl. But he thought it strange that she was so convinced it was going to happen when they had only just met.

“She is brave,” Owen said, responding to her move to block him. Her next move won her the game. He loved Wizr and all the possibilities each game possessed. Even though he’d lost, Ankarette’s praise had put him in a good mood, making him feel more generous toward the newcomer.

“She sounds like it. A fish pond in the great hall. What an amusing idea.”