The King's Traitor (Kingfountain #3)(9)
They were alone in the doorway, no one within earshot.
“The king has asked . . . well, more like ordered, that we leave one of our children behind. He . . . he said he misses the days of old when you and I used to run around the palace together. But we both know—Iago and I—we know he’s doing this to ensure we don’t do anything rash now that Catsby commands the North. My husband is furious, as you may well imagine. He wants to force the king to accept my rights to Dundrennan, but I think that would be foolish. Not now, not when he’s so powerful. I must pick one of my children.” Tears coursed down her cheeks. She let out a breath. “I’m sorry, Owen . . . but my heart feels ripped asunder. I think of your own mother. How did she endure it? It feels unbearable . . .” She started to sob, and Owen yearned to comfort her.
He closed his eyes, trying vainly to shut out the memories of leaving his mother as a young boy, the fear and the aching realization that he would never live with his parents again. He had been sent to Kingfountain in a similar manner, so he knew firsthand what Genevieve was about to experience. He had no doubt that the daughter would be chosen instead of the son. He shook his head slowly. “Even I can still be stunned at his cruelty.”
Elysabeth nodded, hiccupping as she tried to stifle her tears. “My son, Iago, must return to Atabyrion. He’s the heir and he’s so little. The king knows I will have to send Genevieve.” She clenched her fists against her chest, trying to quell more tears. “And it’s worse knowing that you’re going to Brythonica. I would feel so much better if I knew you were there with her. Watching over her. Would you ask Etayne . . . ?” she implored.
Owen grimaced. “I can’t. The king ordered me to take her with me in case Roux causes trouble.” He rubbed his forehead, anguished by her ordeal. By this newest sign of the king’s wickedness. “I will ask Lady Kathryn to watch over her. She’s a fellow native of Atabyrion, which should be comforting to your lass. And Liona as well. She won’t be gone for long, Evie, I promise.” He realized he had used her pet name and flushed deeply. “I beg your pardon, Elysabeth. I will do what I can to make sure your daughter is protected. You have my word on that. I don’t think that I will be in Brythonica for very long,” he added wryly. “When I get back, I’ll persuade the king to send her home.”
Gratitude shone through her misery. “You are so dear to me,” she said softly, blinking away tears. “Thank you. You can still . . . call me Evie. That name is only for you. Iago has another pet name for me.”
Owen did not want to know what it was. “Where is he?”
She pursed her lips. “Arguing with the king. He’s a passionate man. You can be sure he’s not making this easy for Severn.”
Owen sighed. “As long as he doesn’t do anything rash. He chose well in you.” He shook his head, feeling hopeless and wretched. “Your daughter is beautiful and curious,” he said, the words rushing out in spite of himself. “Just like you were. I’m going to make sure the window to the cistern is nailed shut.”
Elysabeth smiled, a genuine warm one. “Do that,” she said emphatically. “I’m sorry to keep you, Owen. The king thought you were already gone, which is why he announced it when he did. Safe travels.” She stood awkwardly for a moment and then impulsively wrapped her arm around his neck and hugged him. Before she pulled away, she brushed a small kiss on his cheek. Her eyes were very green.
“I want you to find love, Owen,” she blurted earnestly. “I don’t care if she’s a duchess or a waif. I want you to be happy. Promise me you will try.”
He stared at her, caught off guard by the hug and tender kiss, very aware of the surging emotions that raged in his dilapidated heart. He had resisted the allurements of other women for seven years, clinging to the dwindling and perverse hope that Evie’s husband would somehow manage to die. It had happened to Severn with his wife. But each year had diminished the hope and convinced Owen that waiting for her would be foolish. Sourly, he wondered if he’d waited too long. Perhaps Severn would force him to act. If not with the Duchess of Brythonica, another woman.
As Owen mused on these dark thoughts, he decided he was glad he’d come back to the North after all. He was grateful that he and Evie had reconciled at long last. They would be friends again, if only friends apart. He was a better man for having her in his life. The sun warmed all that it touched.
He gave her a courtly bow. “I must do as my king commands me,” he said with a mocking tone. “I must order a powerful woman to marry me. What could possibly go wrong?”
With a wry smile, he turned away and walked back to his horse and slung up into the saddle. He looked back at the castle, Dundrennan, and wondered when he would next return. It would have to be soon. There was a sword in an ice cave that he needed to find.
Suddenly, the first stirrings of a plan began to shape in his mind. The plan required a boy and a sword.
My lord Kiskaddon,
We have apprehended a plot to smuggle the pretender Piers Urbick and the wretch Dunsdworth out of Holistern Tower, where they are presently confined. We intercepted a communication from Duke Maxwell of Brugia offering a sizable sum for the capture of these two men. There have been two attempts in the last fortnight to bribe the guards for access. The second attempt was intercepted by the Espion, and we’re now holding the man who instigated the plot in the city. Guard over Holistern has been increased. We await word from our spies in Brugia as to the motives behind Maxwell’s interference.