The King's Traitor (Kingfountain #3)(76)
“You’re welcome,” Owen said, patting the little girl’s cheek in return. “I promised your mother I’d keep you safe.”
Genevieve gave him another radiant smile and then took Sinia’s hand and stepped over the wall of the fountain. Owen stood and met his betrothed’s eyes, surprised when he saw they were wet with tears.
“You didn’t know what would happen?” he asked.
She blinked quickly, trying to regain her composure. “Years ago,” she whispered, “I had a vision of you saving a little girl’s life. In the vision you had whiskers and such, so I thought it was more deeply in the future.” She swallowed again, her emotions filled to the brim. “I saw the ring save you. So I knew, back then, that you needed to have that ring for such a moment.” She shook her head. “But I had no idea it would happen this soon. You had shaved it into a different shape, after all,” she said shyly, reaching out and grazing the edge of her finger against his chin. The touch made him shiver.
She glanced down at his hand. “It’s healing quickly,” she said, nodding with satisfaction. “The ring is powerful. If you hold on to the magic too long, it will kill you. But with the scabbard, you will not be scarred.”
Owen liked seeing her so discomfited on his behalf. He smiled at her and watched her cheeks flush with pink. “Well, I had to shave to look the part,” he said offhandedly. “But I don’t intend to keep the whiskers long. Unless you like them?”
She looked agitated and flustered, which made him long to reach out and touch her. She shook her head no, but wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“That’s good, because I plan to shave the rest off this morning,” he said. He gave in to temptation and reached out and took her hand. “Thank you, Sinia. Thank you for making sure I was wearing that ring.” He kept his voice low. “I wouldn’t have survived otherwise.”
She looked up, seeing his face again. A timid smile crept onto her mouth. “I know,” she answered. Then she blinked. “I almost forgot. Iago wanted me to give this to you. It’s from her mother.” Owen was impressed that she’d mentioned Elysabeth without flinching. She withdrew the sealed note from her girdle and placed it in Owen’s hand. He stuffed it quickly into his pocket to read later, but did not let go of her hand.
“It has begun,” he told Sinia.
“It has,” she agreed.
It was the breath before the plunge.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The King’s Wrath
The hearth in the throne room had been stoked with enormous logs and was blazing, but the cavernous space had an unshakable chill. It was the second morning since Genevieve’s disappearance, and the king’s wrath was terrible to behold. He’d cast out the guests in a fury so he could receive an update from Kevan.
“I said, begone!” Severn shouted at a serving girl who was hastily trying to clean up a spilled platter. The girl went white and fled the room.
Owen had positioned himself near the doors, and was watching as Kevan brooked the king’s temper with as much courage as he could muster. The Espion were in disgrace again. Owen struggled to conceal a smirk—his ruse was working exactly as he’d planned, although he hated to see Kevan endure the brunt of the king’s anger. He saw Drew approach the door, trying to slip away with the rest. The lad had a worried look on his face, but Owen caught his eye and winked at him as he neared the door.
Drew’s face brightened in an instant. Owen nodded to him and then whispered the word library as he passed.
Lady Kathryn was still standing by the dais, and she too bore a worried look. Genevieve’s disappearance had caused her deep anxiety, but Owen hadn’t dared tell her the truth. He would try to later if he could manage it discreetly.
Owen nodded to the guardsmen to shut the door and then approached the king, who continued to rail on Kevan.
“What is it, I ask you, about the Espion being unable to keep track of little children!” Severn said contemptuously. “I want answers, Kevan, and they best be good ones!”
“My lord,” the Espion said, discouraged. “I’ve had everyone I can spare—”
“You can spare!” the king thundered, interrupting him. “I told you to put every spy in the city on alert!”
“Let him speak, my lord,” Owen said, closing the distance. “Curb your temper a moment, if you can.”
The king shot Owen an angry look, his lips trembling with rage.
Kevan gave Owen a grateful nod and shrugged helplessly. “We don’t know how she got out of the castle. She simply disappeared. When her chambermaid arrived in the morning to light the fire, her bed was empty. It would appear she’s been kidnapped.”
“But how? How could she have been removed from the city without anyone knowing?” the king asked in exasperation.
“We’ve secured the roads, the port, searched every ship in the harbor, Atabyrion or not,” Kevan explained. “The only lead we had has led to nothing.”
“What lead?” Severn demanded. “I should toss out the lot of you. Why do I pay for a spy service that botches everything!”
“Tell him, Kevan,” Owen said.
“Tell me what?”
Kevan swallowed, as if to banish his rising impatience. “I heard a rumor that the sexton of the sanctuary may have seen her yesterday morning. I went and spoke to him myself. He described a man and a woman who were at the gates when the sanctuary opened. They had a little girl with them who matched Genevieve’s description. The sexton swore by it. The man he described to me may have been Dragan. Do you remember him, my lord? The thief we captured who tried to release Eyric?”