“Buck up, buttercup. You lost a battle, not the war.” He winked at his son, clapped him hard on the back, and then turned around. His wife gave him a challenging look, and Trynne saw Iago nod sagely to her, as if he agreed with her on every point.
Genevieve came over and sat next to Fallon on the bench, put a sisterly arm around him, and gently rubbed his back. He gazed sideways at her, looking sheepish. She sighed and shook her head, trying to stifle a smile. Trynne felt a flush of affection for her calming manner.
“Has Brugia decided to abandon the treaty, my lords?” Lady Evie asked with a sigh. “Out with the worst of it.”
Trynne’s father smiled wanly and shook his head. “Grand Duke Maxwell is interested in preserving the peace, as are we.” He nodded for the king to continue.
King Drew started pacing, his hands clasped behind his back. “It’s our thinking that this rupture was intended by Prince Elwis alone. It was probably even staged.”
“Staged?” Evie asked with concern.
Drew nodded. “He has a deep hatred of Lord Owen for defeating his father. I think it’s reasonable to deduce that his slight to Trynne was intended to be provoking. He stands to inherit his father’s kingdom and doesn’t want to be beholden to the throne at Kingfountain—or his nemesis. Nor does he likely want to be bound by the principles of Virtus. Quite simply, the young man is a troublemaker.” The king looked pointedly at Lord Amrein. “It’ll be best to keep an eye on him from now on.”
Lord Amrein nodded. “We have two eyes on him, actually. There are some concerns, my lord, that he’s attempting to woo Lady Morwenna.”
The king nodded. “So she told me. That won’t be a problem after tomorrow. Best if the lad cools his head across the sea in his own lands. And it seems like someone else might need to dunk his head in the icy river by Dundrennan.” The king smiled at Fallon to mark it as a joke. “Your ear looks painful.”
“It’s nothing at all, my lord,” Fallon said glumly. “I apologize for making a scene. It won’t happen again.”
Drew straightened and continued pacing. He glanced at Owen. “Should we tell them now, or later?”
Trynne looked from her father to the king, and then back. Were they going to share the secret after all?
“I think now, Your Majesty,” Iago said. He rocked back on his heels, smiling broadly.
Fallon sat up, his eyes widening with interest.
“It was Lord Owen’s idea, so he should be the one to tell it,” the king said, gesturing for him to speak.
Trynne’s father seemed abashed to take the credit. “It was just a suggestion that serves multiple purposes.” He paused, and Trynne’s heart raced with anticipation. Whatever he was about to say would change everything; she sensed it. “We know we are going to be invaded. We need warriors to defend our realm. There is a new generation rising—young men like Prince Fallon and Prince Elwis. In the past, they have always fought one another for fame and land. Now we need them to fight for a common purpose. Princes are ambitious by nature, so glory is a common motivator for many. My idea is to create a custom that unifies our people. We have different languages, different food, different coins even.” Owen walked over to the Ring Table and placed his hand on one of the chair backs. “To earn a seat at this table, a man must pass through an ordeal of sorts. A test not just of fighting prowess and endurance, but also of wisdom and self-discipline. We want clever and judicious warriors to defend our realm, not brute soldiers. My suggestion was that each duchy should create its own ordeal—a rigorous and difficult series of challenges to set apart the champions. Young men from throughout the realm will compete against each other in each of the duchies before earning the right to try their might at the challenge at Kingfountain. The challenges can change and improve from year to year. Only the best will be allowed to progress from one duchy to the next. Accomplishing the trial will earn a badge of honor. Any contest can be attempted more than once, and they’ll be held at varying points during the year.” He paused before continuing. “It will provide the young men a chance to live, for a short while, in the other duchies and learn something of their customs and attributes. It reminds me of something Myrddin once told me. We only hate those whom we do not truly know.”
Owen fell silent for a moment, looking across those in the room. Trynne felt a sort of hunger begin to rise inside her. For as long as she could remember, she had longed to travel, and the thought of visiting Atabyrion, Legault, Brugia, or Occitania in order to meet the challenges there was intensely appealing. Her arms were still sore from training with Captain Staeli, but she relished the idea of competing for such an honor.