The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)(27)

Gannon threw his arms around her neck and kissed her cheek. “But if I’m a duke, then must not they obey me?” He said it in his teasing way.

Sinia smoothed the hair from his forehead before kissing him there. “You can only have the authority of your station when you’re older, after you’ve proven yourself. But remember, my son, that leading means serving. You serve the people of Westmarch. You serve Brythonica.” She tugged and straightened his tunic front. “I will take so many pleasant memories with me on my journey. You are a wonderful son, and I love you with all my heart.”

“I feel sorry for Trynne, then,” replied Gannon with a grin. “There’s none left for her!”

Trynne arched her brow at him, but his smiles were infectious.

“There is room in my heart for both of you,” Sinia said, tapping his nose. She hugged him fiercely then, squeezing her eyes shut with such a look of pain that Trynne’s throat caught.

Brushing away a tear, Sinia rose and came to Trynne. They hugged each other, saying nothing. Trynne felt the warmth of her mother’s breath against her hair. For so long she had worried she’d disappointed her mother by not becoming a Wizr, and the secrets the Fountain had bid her to keep had created a gulf between them.

The biggest of those secrets was the one that Fallon now knew—that Trynne was the Painted Knight. Rumors abounded about the knight, about Trynne, as the Gauntlet of Kingfountain loomed nearer. The legends were vastly different than the truth, each story growing grander as it was passed along. Someone had seen the Painted Knight in Atabyrion defeating twelve men at once. Some said the Painted Knight was a ghost from the drowned kingdom of Leoneyis. Others said his face was painted because a poisoner from Pisan was trying to kill him. Each tale was a fabrication, but that did not stop them from spreading like wildfire. Everyone expected the Painted Knight to come and compete against the best knights of the realm.

She wanted to tell her mother before she left, but the Fountain had told her it was not yet time.

“Trynne,” Sinia said, pulling away from the hug. She stanched tears on her sleeve cuff. “The king will still need you. I know that he will. There are dark days ahead for him. This war with Gahalatine will test his mettle, his confidence, and his will to rule. I know that you will need to go to Kingfountain. I just ask that you make sure Brythonica is watched over. Owen’s father is a wise man and has served me for many, many years. He must play the role of father to his grandchild.” She sighed, looking down. “It is so difficult for me to leave you and Gannon. It will take courage to find the Deep Fathoms. Or the land of Fusang, as the Oasis princess described it to you. It goes by many names. It calls to me still.” She looked out toward the sea, her expression suddenly distant, as if she heard a voice at that very moment.

“I’m glad you chose Captain Pyne,” Trynne said. “He’s one of the best sea captains in Genevar.”

Sinia nodded, then pressed a kiss on Trynne’s cheek. “I love you, Tryneowy Kiskaddon. You have not been a disappointment to me. I love you with a mother’s heart. Nothing can change that, no matter what choices you make. The Fountain has work for you to do.” She smiled tenderly. “I don’t know what it is, for the Fountain has not revealed it to me. But I sense its importance. You are my greatest treasure.”

Her words made Trynne’s heart shudder and tears spill from her eyes. They embraced again, holding each other tightly.

“Ahem,” Captain Pyne murmured, coughing into his fist. “The tide, my lady.”

Sinia ignored him, holding Trynne and stroking her hair while she wept, but she finally stepped away. It hurt to watch as the captain escorted Sinia up the gangplank. There were sailors and servants, archers and knights, all wearing white tabards decorated with the Raven badge of her mother’s house. There were ravens in the rigging, she noticed, birds that would go out to sea with the ship. Trynne felt a hand on her shoulder and noticed her grandmother had sidled up next to her. The tears in the older woman’s eyes reminded her that she was not alone in her grief. Hugging her grandmother, Trynne watched as the boat left the pier, the wind filling the small sails as the captain barked orders.

It grew smaller and smaller until it was gone.



The feast day of St. Benedick had finally arrived, and Trynne was at once nervous and excited to spend the afternoon with Elwis Asturias in Marq. Her mother’s ship had been gone for nearly a fortnight, and the palace at Ploemeur had already begun to feel like a prison. Trynne still started each morning at the training yard in Averanche before bathing and changing into a gown and returning to Ploemeur in time for breakfast. She had never been more thankful for the ability to use the ley lines to travel.

Today, she wore the gown she had purchased with Captain Staeli on the trip they’d made to Marq. Her stomach was full of butterflies as she stared at herself in the mirror, making sure the lacings were all fastened and tidy. The white blouse was bunched together with garters at the upper arms, elbows, and wrists. The black velvet hat with the silver edging was still waiting at the table. It wasn’t fashionable to wear such hats in Brythonica, so Trynne hadn’t put it on yet. She had enjoyed strolling the city and seeing the canals and gondolas. What would it be like to ride in one with Elwis handling the oars? Her stomach did a little turn.

It occurred to her that they would both be competing at the Gauntlet of Kingfountain shortly afterward. She and the Oath Maidens had been preparing for the event for months. Would she be able to reveal herself at last? She smiled at her reflection in the mirror, but the crooked part of it seemed to mock her.