The King's Traitor (Kingfountain #3)(78)

“What did he say?” Owen asked.

“He said it would never come to that,” she whispered. “If we get invaded, he plans to round up all the young men in the kingdom and summon them to Kingfountain. He said he’d prove the Fountain’s power wasn’t real.”

Owen stared at her. “How?”

She shook her head. “He wouldn’t say. But the look in his eye made me afraid. My lord, you promised me my son would be safe. That you’d protect him. I almost feel that if I told the king the truth, he’d see reason and relinquish the throne voluntarily. Maybe we can avert all these troubles? But do I dare risk it? When he is such a man?”

Owen looked at her with growing concern. He shook his head slowly. “Don’t tell him.”

Kathryn squeezed her eyes shut, and a single tear raced down her cheek. “I won’t.”

“I need to go speak to your son,” Owen whispered. “Come with me. He’s in the library. I think it is time he knew the truth.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


Thief’s Ransom



Drew was nestled on a cushion by the window, poring over a book, when they entered the library. The light shining on his hair gave him an otherworldly cast. His eyes were so earnest and absorbed that he reminded Owen of himself, how he had always found sanctuary in this place. He wondered how many times the boy and Genevieve had found their way into the library together. Kathryn paused at the threshold, staring at the boy with such tenderness and longing that it pained Owen to see it.

He gave her an encouraging nod and gestured for her to approach the lad first, which she did. She nestled at the edge of the cushioned window seat, her eyes caressing his face.

“What are you reading?” she asked softly, reaching out to brush away a piece of his hair.

Drew didn’t look away from the book. “A book about the Lady of the Fountain,” he said, chewing on his little finger. “She was an Ondine.”

“A what?” Kathryn asked.

“An Ondine,” Drew replied. “A water sprite.”

As the words came out of the child’s mouth, Owen felt a ripple inside his heart that made him shudder. He walked closer, stepping so softly his boots didn’t scuff on the carpets.

“I’ve not heard of them,” Kathryn said with a curious tone. “The Lady of the Fountain was one, you say?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” the boy said, gazing down at the words with an almost dreamlike expression. “Ondines are gifts from the Deep Fathoms. They look like us, but they aren’t truly mortal. People find them on the shore after storms. The Lady of the Fountain who helped King Andrew was an Ondine. They are very powerful and good.”

Owen swallowed, his heart wrenching with emotion. He could feel the magic of the Fountain pulsing around and inside him. He needed to ask Polidoro for more information about Ondines. Perhaps that was Sinia’s origin instead? A feeling of certainty rang through him like a bell.

“I’ve always liked this library,” Owen said, announcing himself as he approached the corner of the window seat.

Drew lifted his head at Owen’s words. “I didn’t hear you.” He closed the book and set it down, his body suddenly tense. His eyes were penetrating for one so young. “Is she safe?”

He knew instantly whom the boy meant. “Yes.”

Drew looked relieved. “I wish I could have told her good-bye,” he said with a hint of melancholy.

Owen suppressed a smile. “She felt the same way. She’s with her father again, on her way back to Atabyrion.” He kept his voice pitched low deliberately, but they were alone in the room. The spy holes were all along one wall, and the window seat was far away from them. Kathryn glanced up at Owen and then looked down at the boy, her lip trembling.

It had to be done. The secret was wriggling furiously now, trying to escape. Owen felt it tearing him apart inside. He didn’t know what was going to happen. But he felt he could not contain it a moment longer.

“When I told you to meet me here, I wanted to let you know that she was safe,” Owen said. “But there is also another reason.”

Drew dangled his legs over the edge of the cushion. He patted the book and a sad look crossed his face. “I’m leaving again. Aren’t I?”

An exquisite pain wrung Owen’s heart. He wanted to tell him all of it, but he couldn’t. It was too much to unload on such a young boy. One secret at a time.

“Do you want to go?” Owen asked.

Drew shook his head miserably. “Duke Horwath is dead. Catsby hates me, and he doesn’t want me to become one of his knights. Can I go back to Tatton Hall with you?” he implored. “I think my mother is from Westmarch. I’d like to go to Westmarch. I’ve never been there before.”

Looking at the child’s despair was heartbreaking. Was this how Ankarette had felt? Kathryn was struggling to keep her composure. The boy looked so forlorn and unwanted that Owen experienced physical pain in his chest.

“You were born in Westmarch,” Owen said thickly, reaching down and tousling the boy’s fair hair.

Drew nodded, but didn’t meet his gaze. “You don’t want me to go with you?”

Owen stifled a snort, amazed at the power of the feelings twisting him apart. “It’s not that, lad. I just don’t think it would be right. To separate you from your mother again.”