The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)(72)

“Lady Trynne! Lord Owen!”

Within moments, the palace was in an uproar. Servants crowded into the corridor, anxious to see Trynne—and especially Owen.

Trynne asked one of her mother’s faithful servants to summon Thierry. The woman shook her head and said, “But my lady, Duke Ramey is warden of Brythonica now and commands a garrison of soldiers here from his duchy. Thierry is with him at the moment. Shall we keep your presence a secret? They have orders to arrest you.”

“I will not hide from him,” Trynne said. She had no doubt Morwenna already knew they were back. “Where are they?”

“In the audience hall.”

Trynne nodded and then guided her father there. Word of their arrival was still rushing through the palace. The relief her people felt was evident—she saw it in every smile, in every bow of reverence.

They had despaired that no one from her mother’s line was present to protect them.

When they reached the audience hall, the doors were held open for them. Trynne and her father strode through them, and she couldn’t help but think of the many events that had played out in this very room. Her father’s disastrous proposal to her mother. Her confrontation with Rucrius and his Wizrs before she summoned the flood.

Duke Ramey was in conversation with Thierry when they walked inside, and his eyes nearly leaped out of his head when he saw her father.

“L-L-Lord Owen!” he said in astonishment, jaw dropping.

Thierry gazed up toward the ceiling, mouthing unsaid words of praise. He rushed to Trynne with near panic. “My lady, my lady!” He dropped to his knees before her.

“My lord duke,” Trynne said, standing before Ramey. “My father has returned.”

“I see him standing before me,” the duke said, shaking his head. “But my eyes have been deceived much of late. Everything has changed. It feels like winter although it is spring, especially at the palace. I have orders from the king himself to arrest you, Tryneowy. To arrest you for treason.” He held up his hands and shrugged. “All that I am, all that I have, my seat at the Ring Table, I owe to this man,” he said, gesturing to her father. “I’ll admit that I was unprepared for this possibility. No one thought you’d return.”

Trynne saw the look of helplessness on his face. He was a good man. A dutiful one. She saw the conflict raging inside of him.

“Why would you think that?” she said. “This is my home. These are my people.”

“I know, but things have been topsy-turvy. The king hardly acts like his old self. His grief at losing the baby has changed him. The queen is not herself either. Everyone said that you ran off with Fallon after your army lost, that you abrogated your duties, that you were a traitor. Some Espion claimed they saw the two of you in Legault.

Some in Genevar. The rumors . . .” He shook his head.

Trynne looked at him sternly. “Where are Captain Staeli and Gahalatine?”

Duke Ramey sighed. “The Assizes are being held in Kingfountain as we speak. Staeli is being tried for treason. If he’s not over the falls already, he will be shortly. Gahalatine is also imprisoned at the palace. The North is under revolt, Brugia too, and the king will subdue them next, now that he’s overrun Westmarch and Brythonica. I was stationed here because the king trusts me, if barely. He’s changed so much, Trynne. They all have. It’s like what happened before. Under Severn. But what can I do? What can I do but obey the king’s order?”

Trynne closed her eyes, squeezing her hands into fists. She glanced at her father, watching as he looked around the room with utter confusion. He had no understanding of the politics here. He could not help her devise a solution to the horrible situation that Morwenna had sprung on them. She had to do it. She had to think like her father.

Thierry stood up before her, his face agitated. “Lady Trynne, I must speak with you.”

Things were about to get worse. She could tell just by the look in his eyes.

“What happened, Thierry?” she asked him softly.

His brows stitched together. “My lady, before Staeli was defeated, the guards who patrol the beach say they saw someone walking alone there. The tide was out. They thought . . . they thought it was you. They called for me, and when I arrived, there were footprints in the sand. Someone had been walking the beach. The trail led to the caves along the shore.” He started to tremble. “My lady,” he whispered hoarsely, “was that you? My heart tells me it wasn’t. That it couldn’t be. It must have been Lady Morwenna in disguise.”





People are superstitious. They always fear what they do not understand. They believe in traditions handed down to them by dead ancestors. They do not question how those traditions were formed. They toss coins into water and think they are transmuted into prayers.

I’ve gathered pretenders impersonating some of the rulers of Occitania, Legault, and Atabyrion to Kingfountain to witness Staeli’s execution in the river.

The rest will learn firsthand that the Fountain was displeased with Tryneowy’s treachery when Brythonica is at last smothered by the Deep Fathoms. I made sure Duke Ramey was assigned there so he’d be lost. He was always too loyal to Owen Kiskaddon. All the rulers will obey or risk their domains drowning as well.

Morwenna Argentine





CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT