The King's Traitor (Kingfountain #3)(26)
Just hearing her endearments caused an ache of pain inside Owen’s bones. He was not a boy any longer. But the childhood hurts were still sore.
“I don’t understand why you couldn’t send word. Why the duchess didn’t tell me.” Despite how wonderful it felt to see her, to be near one who shared his blood, he was suspicious of her motives.
Jessica cupped his cheek. “I’ll send word to Maman that you are here. I live in the castle, naturally. I heard about how you arrived and made your demands.” She looked up to the ceiling and then shook her head. “You were very rude, Owen.”
Hearing it from his sister made the shame of his actions fester. “Well, I’ll admit my entrance was rather unconventional.”
“Now that’s calling a frog a goose!” she teased.
Owen laughed at the statement. “So I’m a frog, am I?”
“You are a handsome lad behind that dirt and dishevelment.” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she gazed over Owen’s shoulder. Her voice dropped very low. “Is that your mistress?”
She was talking about Etayne. He had almost forgotten she was in the room, amidst the storm of emotion. “No, of course not! She’s my . . . how shall I put this? She’s my protector.”
Jessica’s eyes lifted with surprise. “Very well, although that’s quite a mysterious answer. I will send word to Maman and Papan at once. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m so glad you have finally come!” She hugged and kissed him again and then stole away from the room, blowing him a last kiss as she quietly shut the door.
Owen folded his arms, still reeling from the revelations of the evening. He heard Etayne’s footsteps pad up to him.
His heart still raged with emotions. He blinked quickly, feeling close to tears, and pinched a few strands of his beard below his bottom lip and tugged at them.
“I’m glad you’re here, Etayne,” he said in a half whisper. “My emotions are being toyed with. I’m not even sure what to think right now.”
“So that was your sister. Are you certain it was her? I can feel Fountain magic all around us.”
“The endearments she used,” Owen said, nodding. “That’s what I used to call my mother and father.” His heart was roiling like one of Liona’s stews. “When you play Wizr and start losing, it’s easy to make mistakes. Often fatal ones. Why have my family been here for so many years without telling me? Are they hostages? Perhaps even willing ones?”
“Why would the duchess forbid your sister from seeing you? It seemed to me that she stole in here deliberately.”
Owen nodded. “Exactly. Was that happenstance? Or by design? This is an important game I’m playing. I already feel I’ve been outwitted. I came here to start a war, not a betrothal.” He turned and looked at Etayne. “I am betrothed, aren’t I? The reality is finally hitting me. I knelt down in front of witnesses and offered my hand and she said she’d take me. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Weren’t we supposed to negotiate terms or formulate a treaty at the very least?”
Etayne smiled with amusement. “Threat,” she said knowingly.
Owen shook his head. “Somehow she predicted it. Did you notice the look on her face?”
“Whose face?” Etayne asked.
“Lady Sinia’s. She almost looked relieved when I asked for her hand. She didn’t look upset at all. Why is that? Because she guessed correctly? Or does she stand to gain something from this union?”
Owen started to pace, wishing he had brought his tiles with him. He rarely used them to replenish his magic now, but this unexpected invocation of his childhood made him suddenly crave them.
“From what your sister said, it’s clear that you already have a reputation here. Whatever it was before has been compounded by how you acted once getting here. Let me see what I can find out tonight. What were they saying about you before you came and what are they saying about you now?”
“It can’t be pleasant,” Owen sniffed. “And it will not end pleasantly.” He looked hard into Etayne’s eyes. “I didn’t come here to get married,” he said flatly. “I can imagine the king’s reaction if he were told.” He mimicked Severn’s voice. “‘Good work, lad! You defeated them without a skirmish! Marry her, and let’s work on toppling Chatriyon.’ He won’t give five figs for my feelings.”
Etayne’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. “What? She’s not beautiful enough for you? I can imagine many men would eagerly marry her to inherit the duchy of Brythonica even if she were a homely girl.”
Owen didn’t like her mocking tone. “I gave my heart to another woman long ago.”
He fidgeted under Etayne’s stare, and his mind would not give him peace. Yes, he had given his heart to a woman. A woman who was now a queen in another realm and had two children of her own. Was he going to pine after her for the rest of his life? Would he cling to the hope that Iago might stumble during his hop on the rocks by the waterfalls and plummet to his death? Or perhaps he simply needed to admit to himself that Sinia intrigued him and he was actually considering a possibility he had never thought to contemplate.
Owen slept fitfully that night. Although his rooms were spacious and exquisitely comfortable, he was not used to them. Every little noise and sound disturbed his slumber and made him worry someone was trying to enter his room to murder him. He finally fell asleep just before sunrise, and when he awoke, light streamed in through the thin veils and stabbed at his eyes. It was midmorning, and he rarely slept in that late. His mind was muddy and confused. He unfastened the bolt on his door and found Farnes outside, pacing worriedly.