“And my father approved of this?” Trynne asked. She was desperate to talk with him about it.
Morwenna nodded, flashing another lovely smile. “It was his idea.”
I have been an observer of humanity. Most men are petty, base, and cruel. Most women are fickle, proud, and cunning. Nearly all are shortsighted and tend to view happiness as a crumb worth hoarding. There are a few, however, who stick to a goal and pursue it regardless of obstacles. They are fired with ambition to achieve something at all costs. From the deepest desires often come the deadliest hate and the profoundest love.
Myrddin
CHAPTER FIVE
Prince of Brugia
Although the day had felt as if it would stretch on forever, it ended like all days do. Trynne watched the final rays of sun disappear over the eastern hills as the shadows stretched in slices along the courtyard walls. From the window in the solar, she had a view of the gorgeous sunset, but her heart could find little beauty in it. Her father was going to die.
She listened to him speak to Lord Amrein in furtive tones and watched the spymaster’s reflection on the glass of the window. The chancellor was crestfallen, his eyes burdened by the knowledge from that day. The castle had been noisy with the wedding and the news of the Ring Table and the looming threat. But only a handful knew about Sinia’s vision. Already they were mourning. Trynne chewed on her lip, willing herself to find a way to overturn the calamity.
“Sinia returned earlier this afternoon,” Owen said with a hollowness in his voice, sitting back in his chair. He was brooding. “I don’t imagine what news you will find in just a few days, Kevan, but do your best. Send me word at Ploemeur.”
“I will,” the other man answered. Then he dropped his hand onto Owen’s shoulder and the two friends locked eyes. What passed between them wasn’t spoken aloud, but it was powerful. Trynne knew the story of how Lord Amrein had saved her father’s life after Owen had committed treason against King Severn. There was trust between the men that had held fast over time.
Owen nodded and held up his hand. “We all must return to the Deep Fathoms some day, my friend. I think it’s a blessing from the Fountain to know my fate early.”
“You’re bearing the news better than I,” Lord Amrein said in a husky voice. He patted Owen’s shoulder and then abandoned the solar, leaving Trynne alone with her father.
She was unwilling to accept her mother’s vision as a blessing from the Fountain. No, she would fight her father’s fate with everything she had. She turned and leaned back against the window, watching her father as he stared vacantly into the distance, as if trapped in some long-ago memory.
“Father?” she called after a moment of silence.
He slouched in his chair, stroking his bottom lip thoughtfully. His eyes shifted up to meet her gaze. His eyebrows lifted, as if that was all the strength he had for a reply.
“I spoke to Severn’s daughter today,” Trynne continued. She walked up and planted her hands on the table. “She told me she’s going to Pisan.”
“Did she?” Owen answered, looking back down at the table and sighing. “That was supposed to be a secret.”
“I helped her out of an uncomfortable situation with Prince Elwis. Maybe she assumed I’d know because I’m your daughter.” She emphasized the word.
“I hope that’s the case.” He looked up at her. “Your tone of voice implies you question the wisdom of such an action.”
Trynne shrugged and stifled a smile. Her father knew her well. “It’s just that she’s . . . she’s Severn’s daughter.”
Owen smiled and sat up higher in the chair, seemingly grateful for the change in the conversation. He likely didn’t want to brood on his future any more than she did. “You remember the stories I told you about Dominic Mancini, don’t you?”
She nodded, recalling several of the episodes concerning him.
“He once said—keep your friends close. Keep your enemies closer. Now, I’m not saying Morwenna is our enemy. But Severn is not exactly a friend. Glosstyr is a different duchy with him ruling it. They are more isolated from the rest of the realm. More insular. I’d wish it were otherwise, but it is what it is. Losing a throne is hard on a man. I know he still resents it . . . resents me.” Owen rubbed his mouth. “We’ve tried to get Morwenna more involved at court, but she has no interest in fitting in here. And, to be honest, the other girls haven’t treated her in a friendly way.”
“I’ve tried,” Trynne said. “We spent a good portion of the afternoon together walking around the palace. She’s never had a friend.”