“Please tell me,” Trynne pleaded.
Genny turned, pacing slowly away from her. “It was a private conversation. One between brother and sister, not between a duke and his queen. He didn’t tell me to keep it in confidence. He was merely asking for my advice.”
A feeling of panic and doom was building up inside Trynne. She hadn’t thought it possible to hurt more than she did, but . . . it always was . . .
“I’ll be miserable if I don’t know. Please, Genny.”
The queen nodded but still paused, choosing her words carefully. “You know that Fallon has always looked up to your father as a role model, as an example. The years he spent under Owen’s tutelage are some of his fondest memories. It’s where he fell in love with you.” She turned and looked at Trynne. “Much, I’m afraid, like our mother did with your father. The water wheel keeps turning, doesn’t it?” Genny was silent for another moment, pondering her choice of words carefully. “I still have memories of when Severn ruled. I was but a child.” She smiled self-consciously. “I even remember asking Owen if he still loved my mother. How brash I was back then! He was truthful. I’ve always admired that about him. It was the truth that helped him defeat Severn in the end.”
Trynne was still on tenterhooks. She gazed mutely at Genny, waiting for the awful truth to spill out.
“Fallon wanted to know if I thought Owen had wasted too many years mourning the loss of our mother.”
A shudder rippled through Trynne. Her mouth went dry. She understood the implications immediately. “Fallon wants to marry . . . ?”
She couldn’t bring herself to say the other woman’s name.
Genny looked at her. “He didn’t ask specifically if he could marry Severn’s daughter. His feelings for her are rather conflicted.
He’s sorry for her. Afraid of what may happen to her. They have been friends for many years.”
Trynne bit her lip. “You didn’t mention that I found his clothes in her tower, did you?”
Genny dimpled and winced. “No. I am still his sister. There are some things I might not wish to know about him.” She breathed out heavily. “As I said, I was hoping to bear this burden for you by not telling you. Will he ask the king’s permission to marry her? I don’t know. He can be rather rash, although you must admit he has gotten better.”
Trynne shook her head, still amazed at what Genny had told her. Part of her wanted Fallon to find happiness with someone else.
Someone who would inspire him to be someone. To make himself the best he could be.
Anyone other than Morwenna Argentine.
“I will say this in my brother’s favor,” Genny said, coming up and hugging her once more. “He does not resent that Gahalatine chose you. He respected him for it. That respect has been tarnished because of the way he treated you earlier today. Fallon told me that if he hadn’t been so weak, and if he hadn’t known you would disapprove, he would have punched Gahalatine just as he did Elwis all those years ago. You remember that affair?
“But even though he was furious, he knows firsthand that someone stops thinking clearly after they’ve lost something dear to them. He said that about himself mostly. About how it felt to lose you.
But he also realizes that he would have died in Dundrennan if you hadn’t intervened in the battle. He would have lost everything, including his own life.”
Genny smiled and pressed a kiss to Trynne’s cheek.
“We must be prepared for what is coming,” the queen said.
“Something is approaching. Right now, we are blind to it, so we must step cautiously. Standing still isn’t a good choice. We must all move forward, even though it hurts.”
Trynne knew Genevieve had spoken the truth. But it still hurt.
Emotions rule people. The stronger the emotion, the more vivid and influential it becomes. The Dochte Mandar discovered a magic in another world that controls emotions. It’s contained in a little medallion, a series of twisting vines, which they wear around their necks. It can produce fear. It can feign love. It can imbue one with courage. It can make one a coward.
The Mandaryn believed they could control me through my emotions. They believed they were chaining me.
That I would submit and yield to their whims if they threatened to kill my father. Well, my father is dead now and I can’t even feel it. Love is a manipulation. An illusion. They believed that Rucrius controlled me. Now they are beginning to know that he was only my tool.
I’ve broken the power of the East Kingdoms. And I will break down Kingfountain as well.