The Hollow Crown (Kingfountain #4)(27)

“I was just pondering this ley line,” Sinia said, gently touching Ploemeur and then grazing her finger over the east–west line. “This is a major ley line. See how few run parallel to it? There’s one far north . . . see how it runs through Legault? And there’s another east–west one to the south that runs through Brugia.” She touched her chin thoughtfully. “I was just wondering why there are so few that run east–west. There are more north–south ones. It’s just . . . strange.”

As Trynne squinted over the map, she saw her mother was right. The only ley lines that truly ran east–west were spaced quite far apart. From Ploemeur, the ley line going south reached the southern tip of Pisan. She wondered if that was where the poisoner school was located and felt an excited tingle.

“I’ve not noticed that before,” Trynne said, shaking her head. “There are so many ley lines, it’s always confusing to look at. Is there another map showing where these eastern ones go?” She pointed to the edge of the page.

Sinia shook her head. “No, love.” Her mother worked up a smile and then ran her fingers through Trynne’s hair. “It keeps getting shorter and shorter, Trynne, every time I look at you.”

Trynne swallowed guiltily and tried to appear unconcerned. “I don’t like it long.”

“Your husband might.”

“I’m not even sixteen, Mother! Please don’t say you and Father are planning a wedding for me already!”

Sinia cupped Trynne’s shoulders in her hands and looked her in the eyes. “Would we do that without telling you? When you reach Kingfountain, please give this letter to your father for me.” She pulled it from her girdle and handed it to Trynne. Her mother’s handwriting was impeccable and worthy of adoration. It was a reminder of another way in which Trynne fell short—she was far too impatient to worry about the quality of her penmanship.

“I will. I’m excited to see him again. It’s been a long fortnight.”

“It has,” Sinia said. She gave her daughter an incisive look. “Can I ask you a question, and will you be honest with me?”

Worry began to rattle inside Trynne’s heart. Had her mother found out about her training in the yard? Would she get in trouble for all the times she’d snuck the book of maps out of the fountain waters and studied the pages late at night after her mother was abed?

“Of course!” Trynne said after hardly a moment’s hesitation. She felt so guilty inside, yet she managed a lighthearted tone.

“Do you enjoy studying The Vulgate?”

The question caught her off guard. She wrinkled her brow. “Of course I like it. The stories are very interesting, and I love it when I discover a new word of power. I know twelve already.”

Sinia clasped her hands behind her back. “But do you enjoy it? Reading it is burdensome to you, is it not?”

Trynne felt guilt wash down her body into her toes. She couldn’t lie to her mother, not when addressed so honestly and openly. She knew what she ought to say. How many girls were given the chance to train to be a Wizr, an advisor of kings and rulers? It was a precious responsibility; without someone to utter the words of power to protect Brythonica, the duchy could be flooded. It was a duty she could not refuse until her brother came of age.

She didn’t know what to say, and that seemed to be all the confirmation Sinia needed.

“I see,” Sinia said with a hint of regret in her voice.

“Mother, I have tried,” Trynne said with all the pain of her inner turmoil. “And I will not give up. I have much to learn still. I . . . I truly enjoy some of the stories. There are just so many of them.”

“I’m not ashamed of you, Tryneowy,” her mother said gently. And yet there was a look of sadness in her eyes again. Of disappointment. “I want to share this part of my life with you. I enjoy teaching you. But I can sense that it’s not where your heart is.”

Trynne was miserable. “I’ve failed you.”

Sinia shook her head and then hugged her daughter. “No, you haven’t. We are just different, you and I.” She smoothed some hair away from Trynne’s brow. “When I was your age, I was in love with a boy who scarcely knew I existed, one I had only seen in my visions. A ruthless and corrupt king invaded my duchy to force me to marry him, and I had to turn to a tyrant for help.” Her mother looked at her with deep emotion. “I . . . I wanted to raise you in safety so that you wouldn’t have to feel what I did, but that was not to be.” Trynne knew her mother was talking about the attack that had stolen her smile, and also about the future they would have to face someday soon. Sinia took Trynne’s hands, squeezed them, and then kissed her knuckles. “Pardon a mother’s lament. You are growing up so fast.”

Tears stung Trynne’s eyes as she wrapped her arms around her mother and held her, suffering through her own sensations of guilt and worry and conflict.

“I love you, Tryneowy,” Sinia whispered, kissing her daughter’s hair. “Never forget that I always will. You are not a disappointment to me. I know you are trying very hard. Give my love to your father. Tell him I miss him.”

Trynne smiled, wiping her tears away with her wrist. She kissed her mother’s cheek and then, gripping the letter between her fingers, stepped over the rail of the fountain into the water. The water was repelled by her presence, shuddering away from her as if it were an animal afraid to be near.