The Hollow Crown (Kingfountain #4)(5)

“And he’s your father’s sworn enemy,” Lady Evie said with a serious tone. “I know the Espion have been hunting him for years. It’s difficult finding a man who can become invisible.”

“Indeed it is,” Trynne said. “We don’t know for certain, of course. I never saw anyone, but I felt something was wrong. The Espion and I are good friends now,” Trynne said with another half smile.

The queen’s eyebrows lifted in curiosity.

“She’s accompanied by them day and night,” Genevieve explained. “Who is your favorite? I love Clark the best. He’s quiet and unassuming, but he’s quite funny.”

“Funny?” the queen said with a short laugh. “He hardly says two words together.”

“Only because you never stop talking, Mother,” Genevieve teased.

“Don’t be impudent, dearest,” said Lady Evie with a laugh. “Even though you will outrank me after today, it doesn’t give you liberty to be rude to your mother.”

“I would never dream of it,” Genevieve said with a laugh.

A question bubbled out of Trynne’s mouth before she could stop it. “Do you love him, Genny?”

The princess’s smile shone with a radiance too great for words, and her eyes sparkled with warmth and excitement. There was no doubt in the world how the girl felt. Oh, to smile . . .

“I do, Trynne,” Genevieve said with a sigh. “And not just because he’s a king.”

“The most powerful king in all the lands,” Lady Evie added wryly.

“He is that too,” Genevieve said, laughing. “We’ve known each other since we were children, Trynne. I was half in love with him when I was practically a baby. We didn’t rush things, and some people gossiped that he was biding his time for a political match. With Atabyrion already as an ally, he could have looked farther afield. Some whispered that perhaps the Brugian king would sire a daughter, or that Drew could marry another lady from that kingdom.”

“Do you know how it happened that he chose you?” Lady Evie asked. “Did you know of Myrddin’s role?”

“No,” Genevieve said. “That man completely fascinates me. Doesn’t he fascinate you as well, Trynne? What did he say, Mother? Tell me if you please.”

“If you please, there we go. Much better than a command from Your Highness.” Having finished the braiding, the older woman set her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “I heard this from Trynne’s father, of course. When the king was almost eighteen, he asked his Wizr and Lord Owen for advice on whom he should marry. He said he knew his heart, but would be guided by their counsel. Not many a young man would take such a risk. But he trusted Lord Owen’s knowledge of the foreign courts and the impact his marriage would have. And he knew Myrddin was very wise. He’s traveled to other worlds, you know. There are distant realms where water comes gushing from stones. Places where men can fly by only taking a breath. Myrddin has traveled far and has many tales.”

“But what did he tell Drew?” Genevieve pressed.

“I was getting to it. Be patient.” She smoothed the fabric along her daughter’s shoulders. “Myrddin said”—and she changed her voice to match the Wizr’s interesting accent—“‘Well lad, if you are asking for my advice, I will tell you. You should—’”

Another voice broke in at just that moment, a young man’s voice that was also mimicking Myrddin’s tone. It was Fallon. “‘—marry Tryneowy Kiskaddon, that strange pethet from Brythonica. Bah, you can even call her “my queen” so you won’t have to pronounce her awful name! I hate speaking this language. It makes my tongue all itchy.’”

Everyone was shocked by his sudden arrival through one of the Espion doors. He was three years older than Trynne, and it showed. He had sprouted into a man since their younger days, and when she’d first seen him on arriving at Kingfountain, she had almost mistaken him for one of the palace knights. His dark hair and mocking eyes appeared from the doorway, and he was grinning in his dangerous way.

“Iago Fallon Llewellyn!” Lady Evie scolded. “If you are not the rudest child a mother could ask for. How long have you been skulking behind that spy hole?”

He sauntered up to his mother, gripped her shoulders, and then stooped to plant a noisy kiss on her cheek. “Mother, all this fussing and primping is taking ages! Poor Drew is pacing at the sanctuary of Our Lady right now, wondering if his bride will ever show up. Sister, you look uncomfortable in that gown. How hard did they yank on the corset?” He bent down with an exaggerated flourish and kissed Genny on the cheek as well.

Trynne bared her teeth angrily at Fallon as he lifted up and gave her a sly wink. It did nothing to hide the fact that she’d blushed six degrees of scarlet.

“What, no kiss for you, Cousin Trynne?” he said mockingly.

Being with Fallon made her stomach feel akin to a rag being wrung out. He was probably the handsomest man in Atabyrion, a willful flirt, and tended to trample on other people’s feelings without care. He deliberately teased her about her affliction, even though she’d told him how much it hurt.

“I am not your cousin, Fallon,” she said.

“Well, it feels like it,” he said, beginning to wander the room, touching and poking at everything he saw. He lifted a bottle of his sister’s perfume, smelled it with an appreciative nod, and then set it down and folded his arms imperiously.