The King's Traitor (Kingfountain #3)(70)

He sat still, his mind whirling. Then another memory came. She had reached out. Not to him directly, but through Severn. The King of Occitania had been determined to force Sinia to marry him. To escape his advances, she had reached out to Ceredigion for help. Had she known Owen would be sent to help? Of course she had! Just as she’d known he would surprise Chatriyon’s army in the middle of the night. That was why Marshal Roux had been waiting for them that night. Owen and Sinia had worked side by side to keep the Occitanian king at bay. Because she hadn’t wanted to marry Chatriyon.

She had wanted to marry Owen.

The insight crystalized inside his mind, shaped into certainty by a surge of Fountain magic. Sinia had known he was in love with Evie, and she had known what was going to happen to his heart when his first love was denied to him. He realized with astonishment that she had suffered the same pangs herself because she, as a little girl, had fallen in love with a boy she’d never met. One she had seen only in her visions.

Sinia had been in love with him all along, suffering silently while watching him consume himself in grief and despair. She’d probably hoped to comfort him, since it was her nature to want to alleviate the suffering of others. He had never considered it a possibility. Her quick acceptance of his proposal wasn’t an indication that she had outsmarted him. It was her greatest hope. And he had handled the whole thing in the most shameful and offensive way possible. He’d alienated her entire court, ridiculing their governor and ruler, whom they respected and admired. That was why she had acted disappointed.

He got on his feet and began pacing. “You fool, you fool, you fool,” he muttered to himself. He wanted to pore over her notes again, but he had taken to storing the notes in the Wizr box.

“I am the world’s biggest idiot,” he said again, shaking his head. He looked down at the mostly completed tower, a monument representing years of folly.

He and Sinia were suited for each other. She was calm and peaceful. They shared gifts from the Fountain, gifts that would be a huge help to any monarch they served, but especially to a young boy who would be on the verge of manhood in a few years.

Elysabeth, a voice whispered in his mind.

Genevieve had asked him directly if he still loved her. Of course he did. They had shared so many memories. She’d been his truest friend and faithful companion. There was nothing in their relationship that he regretted now, no liberties taken that could sully their connection. In his heart, Owen knew that the marriage had made Iago Llewellyn a better man and king, and in his estimation, Atabyrion’s queen had improved her new country’s standing in the world through her wisdom, guidance, and strengths. Elysabeth loved her husband and her children. Owen had secretly hoped it would be otherwise, that she would pine for him as he had pined for her.

That had to stop. Immediately. He was betrothed to a person who loved him, one he knew he could love. The raging inferno inside his chest was evidence that he could feel again. The time had come.

He hungered for a way to demonstrate to her that his heart was changing. When would he be able to see her again? She had written in her note that he should send Genevieve into the mist when it appeared. Would he have the opportunity to see her? He wanted to apologize for his early behavior, to learn more about her true nature and whether she was in truth a water sprite. But more than that, he wanted to prove to her that she hadn’t waited for him in vain. Wasn’t it her greatest concern that he, like the Owain of legend, would be unfaithful to her?

Why had she fallen in love with him in the first place, knowing how things would start between them?

The idea struck him like a thunderbolt.

Perhaps she had foreseen who he would become.

“I am right, I know I am,” he whispered to himself. The magic inside him confirmed the truth.

He heard a noise, and as he turned, he saw the secret door swing open, and Etayne rushed inside, shutting it forcefully behind her. The look of fear and dread in her eyes made Owen’s stomach sink.

“What is it?” Owen asked, fear snaking through his legs.

“My father found me,” she whispered in terror.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX


Poisoner’s Revenge



“Tell me what happened,” Owen said in a steady voice. It required all of his self-discipline not to panic. He would try to turn whatever news she brought to an advantage.

“Somehow he discovered my tower,” Etayne said, pacing back and forth in the short space between them. “His power concealed him from me, but I sensed the Fountain magic in the room with me.”

It was the king who had turned the skilled thief loose in the palace. He’d even given him an Espion ring. Owen was flooded with a new rush of anger; yes, Severn had fallen far.

“I drew my dagger, and that’s when he appeared,” Etayne said, shuddering. “He’d been rifling through my things. My poisons were in disarray. I still don’t know if he took any. He’d gone through my clothes, stolen jewelry.” Her lips were tight with fury. “That has been my sanctuary, my refuge! He’s spoiled it! I can’t stay there anymore, not now that he knows where I live. I should have killed him when I had the chance.” She shook her head furiously. “I should have!”

“What did he want?”

Her scowl turned into a grimace. “He wanted me to help him get access to you.”