The King's Traitor (Kingfountain #3)(57)

“You heard her, leave it alone!” the king barked with anger. The soldiers hastily retreated from the bound corpse. The dawn was quickly driving away the shadows. Owen gestured for Etayne subtly, preparing to send her and Drew away. This was not how he planned to tell the boy about his true parentage.

Kathryn looked up at the king, her eyes wet with tears, her mouth twisted with grief, and the look she gave him was like spears. Any fear she’d had of the king lay broken. Her eyes were so full of hate they made Owen want to retreat.

“Of course you would come,” she said in a broken voice, “to witness your handiwork. You’ve long wanted my husband dead, my lord king. Now it is done. He is broken. He is no more.”

“He leaped from the tower, my dear,” Severn said coldly. “Because he was not man enough to face the river. He knew the Fountain wouldn’t save him.”

Kathryn straightened, her fingers stiffening like claws as she dug them into her black skirts. “How dare you speak of courage. He had more courage than you’ve ever known. At least he’ll rest from his torments now. The Deep Fathoms will bring him peace.”

“Then you should thank me,” the king said with a coughing chuckle. “He’ll soon be in a better place. At least you are rid of him now.”

Her face contorted with fury. “I never wanted to be rid of him! He was my husband! Can you not understand this? I was his wife.”

Severn took a dragging step forward. “But you were fit to be a queen. Not a pauper’s bride. You are worth more than he ever gave you.”

Owen felt the magic of the Fountain begin to churn all around them, tendrils of it wrapping around the king’s voice. Severn scooted closer to Kathryn, and Owen saw his hand tentatively start to nudge toward her. For a moment, all he could do was look on in mute horror.

He gave Etayne a sharp look and nodded for her to escape with Drew. Her eyes riveted to his, she nodded back. It would mean the loss of his disguise, but with any luck, the king wouldn’t pay any attention to the guard he’d so casually dismissed. The poisoner’s hands tightened on Drew’s shoulder and she started to draw him away, but Drew clung to the bars, straining against them, eager to witness what was happening. He would not leave without drawing attention to himself, which they could not allow.

“Do you think I would ever have you after what you’ve done?” Kathryn said with astonishment and outrage. “Send me back to Atabyrion. Send me back to my father. Why must I remain your prisoner a moment longer? You have tormented me long enough! If you were a man, you would leap into the river yourself. Your people fear you. You are a coward and a knave and deserve to drown more than either of these poor mistreated wretches!”

Owen had never seen Kathryn so passionate before. She stood like a lioness, facing the king with the very power and indignation that had earned his respect.

The king’s voice was full of mocking. “You think the destroyer of these two should go into the river? Then take my hand, Kathryn, and we can go into the flood together. You were the cause of their fates. Why did I hate your husband? Because of you. Why was I pleased to hear he’d escaped? Because it would prove to you what a coward and traitor he truly was. Any torments he underwent in the tower, I put him through because I knew they could not compare to the torment I daily endured by having you at court without being able to have you. Love killed your husband. And you are the cause of it.”

The king continued to approach her, like one would approach a dangerous animal, one hand on his dagger, the other tentatively reaching toward her. He was very close and Owen wanted to warn her to get away from him. He’d warned her many times that the king’s magic was amplified by his touch. In her distress, she was not realizing the danger. What could he do without giving himself away?

“You blame me?” Kathryn said with open contempt. “You are always quick to blame everyone else for the failings of your character. I cannot love you, Severn.”

“The angel speaks my name at last!” the king crooned.

“Would my words were poison to kill you,” she replied in kind.

“But they are, they are!” he said pleadingly, his voice filling with emotion. “I’ve offered you a crown. I’ve offered you my love. I would give all that I possess to claim your heart. But you will not have me. You, who shine as bright as the sun even in widow’s weeds, could never care for such a misbegotten lump of deformity as myself. Even the sun refuses to shine on me these days. Dogs bark at me when I pass. I, who am hated above all, who would give everything for one . . . sweet . . . kiss from those lips.”

His fingers encircled her arm, and Owen felt the king release his magic in a flood against her.

“You have never been hated, Kathryn. Everyone who sees you must love you. How could I prevent myself? How could I stop my heart from feeling? Yes, your husband died because of me. But it was you who drove me to it.”

She spat in his face.

Owen stared at her in surprise and wonder.

But the magic of the Fountain did not ebb. It grew stronger. The soldiers shrank back, unable to stop gawking at the scene in front of them.

The king did not release her arm, and Owen watched as Kathryn began to tremble. When the king spoke next, his voice was low and full of emotion, a sound like triumph. “Even you spit at me?”

“Out of my sight,” Kathryn stammered, her resolve beginning to crumble. “You infect this place with your presence. This was hallowed ground moments ago.”