The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)(19)

The Espion nodded, his lips pursed.

“I must go to her,” Trynne said, knowing how desperately worried Genny would be. Trynne’s powers had been depleted, but she felt—no, she knew—that things here were not as they were supposed to be.

“The king is in the council room,” the other Espion said. “The queen is in her chambers.”

“Help me get to His Majesty,” Lord Amrein said to one of them.

Then, pointing to the other, he made a quick gesture with his wrist.

“You accompany Lady Trynne.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Trynne didn’t need the escort, nor did she understand the subtle Espion sign that Lord Amrein had just given his man. Fallon probably knew what it meant. Without a word, she walked at a forceful pace through the corridors she knew so well. The expressions of the servants and the subdued atmosphere only added to the impression that something was badly wrong.

She turned to her escort, who was barely keeping up with her.

“The babe fell ill immediately after we left?”

“Aye, my lady,” he said circumspectly. “No cause or reason for it.”

“Have there been any visitors to the palace?”

“Just the delegation from the East. Sunilik has met frequently with the king and queen. Do you suspect him?”

“I don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “No, I believe he is trustworthy. But no other visitors have come? Is Duke Fallon still in the North?”

“Aye,” the man said, arching his eyebrow at her question. What she really wanted to know was if Morwenna was still under guard at Marshaw, but she would only ask that question of someone she trusted. Besides Captain Staeli, she didn’t know many of the Espion personally.

She gritted her teeth and hurried to the chamber. As she approached, she felt and sensed the dim aura of magic coming from beyond the door, which immediately put her on her guard. She had never sensed magic coming from Genny’s room before. The Espion waited at the door, and Trynne was announced, her concerns growing with each breath.

“Yes, send her in at once,” she heard Genny’s voice say in a worried tone. Something about her voice sounded strange to Trynne’s ears, though she couldn’t say what. Worry wriggled inside her more violently.

The room looked the same, but the smell had changed. An odor of sickness hung in the room. Genny stood by the cradle, wearing a dark-green gown that was almost black. Her hair was elegantly coifed, which surprised Trynne. Would a concerned mother have taken the time to groom herself so elegantly? The look of grief on her face was belied by the satisfied glint in her eyes. As Trynne approached, she sensed multiple sources of magic, like a series of musical instruments playing softly in the background, unobserved by any but the most practiced listener. The effect was very subtle, but any Fountain-blessed would probably sense it if paying attention.

First, there was a ring that was hiding the true appearance of the queen. The woman looked and sounded like Genny. But it was a lie. Trynne could sense it clearly. Such tricks had never worked on her. Another magic was worn beneath the lacings of the woman’s bodice. A medallion of some kind. It felt similar—no, it felt exactly— like the one Albion had been using when Trynne had arrived in the solar a few days before. There was almost a sickly-sweet odor that came from the magic, one that tried to put Trynne at ease and make her feel safe in the presence of a trusted friend. A woman whom she had shared a bond with for so long, one she trusted implicitly with all her secrets.

But this woman was not Genevieve.

It was Morwenna.





It is time for the blacksmith’s hammer to fall. I will forge this kingdom into my own making. What gives the smith’s arm the strength to continue the strokes?

Anger. Revenge. Tryneowy ruined my last plan. She will suffer for it. Dearly. She will lose everything she treasures. Her reputation. Her husband. Her lover. She will understand what it means to be a pariah, an outcast, an enemy. She will understand for herself the trials I have borne my whole life. And when she is done suffering, she will beg me for a poison to end it. I may or may not give her what she asks. She has no idea what I am capable of. She has no idea what curses I will bring on this land. If I cannot rule Kingfountain, no one will.

Morwenna Argentine





CHAPTER EIGHT


Threat


Trynne only had a moment to decide.

One of her gifts from the Fountain was that of discernment, both of people and of complicated situations. Even as her gut wrenched with disbelief and shock, her mind assembled the pieces. It was obvious to her now. Morwenna had a Tay al-Ard. She also had a ring that could disguise her into anyone she chose. And she had poisoned Genny’s baby.

All of Morwenna’s contrition and helplessness had been feigned. In that brief moment of sun-bright clarity, Trynne recognized the face of her enemy, the enemy of the realm. She’d had suspicions before. She’d seen the shadows on the wall. Now she knew exactly who was blocking the light.

At the same time, Trynne’s own magic was sufficiently drained that she would not prevail in a contest with Severn’s daughter. No doubt the poisoner was anticipating her arrival. She had set these events into motion in preparation for it. She knew how the memory spell worked. No doubt she was the one who’d lured the men into the grove and stolen Gahalatine’s memories. That flash of a pale skirt had been hers. What reaction was Morwenna expecting from Trynne?