The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)(8)

“But meanwhile I must endure the torture of suspense,” Trynne said. “I must wait for him to come to me. How long will it take? A fortnight? A month?” The agitation made her break away and start pacing. “Longer? I cannot bear this, Genny. I cannot bear that he thinks so ill of me. That he believes I am capable of such treachery.

That I would willingly marry him in order to deceive him.” She touched her heart with her fingertips and then dug them into her skin.

“What’s strange is that I had fallen half in love with him this last month. Even though he attacked us without a cause, I’d come to forgive him. There is much I admire about him. And I thought . . . I believed that he truly admired me.”

“He did,” Genny said emphatically. “Which is what makes his pain all the greater. He was in love with you, Trynne. He manifested it in a thousand different ways. Perhaps he was in love with the idea of you at first. You have your father’s gifts from the Fountain. You’re uncommonly pretty.”

Trynne glared at her.

“You are! Despite what happened to you. You radiate courage and goodness. You’re reliable and faithful. You are exactly what he needed. What he needs. Which makes you the biggest threat his Wizrs have ever experienced. Coldly and deliberately, they removed your father from court to make Drew vulnerable. What they didn’t expect was that the Fountain would call you to defend us.”

Genny paused and clasped her hands in front of her. “People are ruled by superstitions,” she finally said. “Even ours! Take a coin from the fountain and you’ll be thrown into the river. The Fountain didn’t punish the Forbidden Court, but Gahalatine upended his Wizrs’ plans by swearing an oath of fealty to Drew. He made a decision that could not be easily undone. What horrifies me is how many people the Wizrs were willing to kill to try and counter it. How many of their own people.” She gave Trynne an impassioned look.

“Such power cannot be trusted without firm control. I see that now. I have a feeling these Wizrs will want revenge against us for their defeat. And you, Trynne, are the last Wizr that we can trust.”

Trynne knew it was true, and it grieved her, for she had never wanted to be a Wizr. Myrddin had vanished over a year before, telling them that the Fountain had called him to help settle a desperate situation in another world. Then it had called her mother, Sinia, to the Deep Fathoms. Morwenna had been allied with the enemy all along, so she could not be trusted to save Kingfountain.

“I don’t want this,” Trynne whispered helplessly.

Genny walked up to her and took her hands. “I know. I know your heart, Trynne. But still I must ask you to help us. We don’t have your mother’s visions to guide us. We don’t have your father’s strategies. You must be both of them right now. Even while you endure heartache. Even though you’d rather be in the training yard with Captain Staeli. I hear he’s on the mend.”

Trynne nodded forlornly. “I will do my duty,” she said. It was not what she wanted. But when did life ever work out the way one wanted?

“I know you will,” Genny said. “Go back to Ploemeur. Send your husband whatever aid you can. Over time, his heart will soften to you. He will begin to see the truth.”

“I must hope that he does,” she replied.

The two embraced, holding each other for a long moment.

When they finally drew apart, Trynne gave the queen a serious look.

“What did Fallon talk to you about?”

The question had obviously surprised Genny. Her cheeks flushed slightly and her eyes narrowed.

“Oh no,” Trynne groaned.

Genny patted her cheek. “I don’t know if I should tell you. I was hoping to bear this burden for you. At least for a while. Nothing may come of it.”

“Please tell me,” Trynne pleaded.

Genny turned, pacing slowly away from her. “It was a private conversation. One between brother and sister, not between a duke and his queen. He didn’t tell me to keep it in confidence. He was merely asking for my advice.”

A feeling of panic and doom was building up inside Trynne. She hadn’t thought it possible to hurt more than she did, but . . . it always was . . .

“I’ll be miserable if I don’t know. Please, Genny.”

The queen nodded but still paused, choosing her words carefully. “You know that Fallon has always looked up to your father as a role model, as an example. The years he spent under Owen’s tutelage are some of his fondest memories. It’s where he fell in love with you.” She turned and looked at Trynne. “Much, I’m afraid, like our mother did with your father. The water wheel keeps turning, doesn’t it?” Genny was silent for another moment, pondering her choice of words carefully. “I still have memories of when Severn ruled. I was but a child.” She smiled self-consciously. “I even remember asking Owen if he still loved my mother. How brash I was back then! He was truthful. I’ve always admired that about him. It was the truth that helped him defeat Severn in the end.”

Trynne was still on tenterhooks. She gazed mutely at Genny, waiting for the awful truth to spill out.

“Fallon wanted to know if I thought Owen had wasted too many years mourning the loss of our mother.”

A shudder rippled through Trynne. Her mouth went dry. She understood the implications immediately. “Fallon wants to marry . . . ?”