“I’m afraid we’re intruding,” Drew said, looking a little taken back. “I apologize. I should have knocked first.”
Owen chuckled. “This is your chamber, lad. No need to apologize. And we did agree to meet here for dinner. Lord Amrein and I wanted to share the map with you.”
The king nodded. “We saw him leaving and he mentioned you were both here. Hello, Trynne.” He flashed her a charming smile and bowed slightly. “Good to see you.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Trynne muttered, cheeks hot, her stomach twisting and flipping with embarrassment.
“What were you speaking to your father about?” Genevieve asked. She looked absolutely regal in her green gown studded with sparkling little beads of glass. A simple but beautiful coronet graced her dark hair. She walked up and gave Trynne a hug and pressed a kiss to her cheek. The queen had grown even more beautiful over the last few years, and had settled into her role with confidence and grace. Up close, Trynne noticed how much the dress accentuated her hazel eyes.
“I’d rather not say,” Trynne stammered, her mortification growing.
“Please, I’d like to hear it. We’re your friends, Trynne. We’ll not laugh at you.” She turned and gave the others an arch look. “It was something about wanting to train like the boys?”
Trynne looked at her father, seeking his approval even though the queen had given hers.
Owen gestured with his hand for her to proceed. He wouldn’t countermand the queen.
It was an awkward and uncomfortable position to be in. What would Genevieve think of her? All those years ago, she’d been hesitant about the notion of women participating in the Gauntlet. “I was just saying, Genny, that . . .” She paused to swallow, her mouth very dry. The queen took her hands and squeezed them encouragingly. “。 . . that I would rather be in the training yard than the library. I’m learning declensions and ancient court etiquette when I should be learning archery. I’m balancing weights and measures instead of a beam over my shoulders with buckets, like the boys do in the yard. If we are truly going to be attacked, should I not know how to defend myself? Do I care any less about the honor of Ceredigion than does your brother or any of the other young men?”
She had been afraid that the queen would be put off by her unwomanly sentiments. Instead, Genevieve was staring at her with startled surprise and even—if she dared assume it was such—admiration.
Her words had gotten everyone’s attention, including Myrddin’s. The room fell quiet.
“You are not the only one I’ve heard speak of this,” Genevieve said, still clinging to her hands. “Since we last spoke of this, I have sought the opinions of others. Many a maiden laments that while they’re allowed to pick up scythes and help harvest a field, they’re barred from picking up halberds and felling their foes. Your feelings are noble, Trynne.” She turned. “Myrddin? You have traveled vast distances and seen many civilizations. You have seen other worlds that are different from ours. What customs exist that grant women the right to defend their homelands?”
Trynne felt an eager fire begin to burn inside her. She gazed at Myrddin, who was giving them both a canny look as he rubbed his chin with one hand, gripping his gnarled staff with the other.
“There are many such accounts, my queen,” said the Wizr solemnly. “Many indeed.”
“Are there?” the queen asked. “The only one I have heard of is the Maid of Donremy. And she was a singular person for certain.”
Myrddin frowned and shook his head. “Pfah, my lady. ’Tis not an exception. The queen of the Argentine dynasty also wielded a sword. I have read Master Urbino’s history, and while it has some inaccuracies, that is not one of them. She was the mother of kings. She went to the borderlands with her first husband, as Queen of Occitania, and inspired the troops to fight.”
“Did you hear that, Trynne?” Genevieve said eagerly, and Trynne noticed King Drew frown in concern.
“There are others as well,” Myrddin said. “It usually happens after a period of war when there are but few men left to defend the land. In one world I have seen, they are called the Oskmey—the Oath Maidens. In another, they’re the Shield Maidens. They defend the home and hearth while their husbands and brothers go to war. Sometimes they lead battles too, fighting alongside the men. One ancient queen, Vodicia, led a rebellion against a tyrant.”
Trynne’s heart leaped at the words. She felt a quickening inside of her, an excitement that blazed like the sun.