The words came gushing out of Trynne all at once. She described the ceremony of the oath magic, shared the oaths she had made and how she had already been tempted to break most of them. Trynne described how the wellspring worked, including her realization that she had greater power when she acted in defense. She confessed that she had been at the Gauntlet of Brugia and had rescued Fallon, who had not recognized her.
Genny’s eyes gleamed with delight when she learned that part, and they shared a secret laugh. “So you’re the painted knight they’re all speaking of!”
Trynne went on to tell her how diminished her power had been after the Gauntlet—and how that had handicapped her when it came time to defend Kingfountain from Rucrius.
There were some confidences she did not share. She wasn’t sure if she should confide what the Fountain had whispered to her about taking a seat at the Ring Table, so she didn’t divulge that part. Nor did she say a word about her feelings for the queen’s brother. But it relieved a huge emotional burden to be able to share so many secrets.
The queen listened to her story with eagerness and asked many questions. As they spoke, their hearts knit together, strengthening the friendship they had long enjoyed.
“Trynne, you cannot understand how relieved I am to hear this news,” the queen said. “I was very disappointed when my husband wouldn’t allow me to found the order. I felt it was the right thing to do. Obviously Myrddin did as well, or he wouldn’t have chosen you before he left. Sometimes I cannot understand why the Fountain acts as it does. We need Myrddin so desperately, yet he is gone.”
Trynne stared at her and nodded thoughtfully. “He said the need was even greater elsewhere.”
The queen patted her arm. “Thank you for sharing this with me. You spoke of the conflict you’ve had within yourself. The disquiet of trying to please your mother while desiring to be like your father. You cannot reach your full potential with your soul riven apart like this. You must talk to your mother, Trynne. Lady Sinia is wise and powerful. She will understand. I know you’ve been forbidden to tell your parents certain things. But this, I think, you can say. Your heart is not in your studies. And I need you to train other girls to defend Kingfountain. Your passion is to study war. I cannot help but believe the Fountain is grooming you for this purpose, just as it called the Maid of Donremy long ago.”
Trynne’s shoulders slumped. “She will be so disappointed in me.”
Genevieve nodded. “Yes, but she’s a mother with a mother’s heart.” Her voice thickened midway through the words, and she dropped a hand to her abdomen and slowly rubbed it in a circle.
“Now it’s time that I told you my secret. One that I’ve shared with no one else. Not even the king.”
PART III
Lady
The young are hasty in falling in love. Youths always wish to hurry romance and commit their hearts. King Drew was such and told me he wished to have a bride. By all means, marry, I told him. If you get a good wife, you’ll become happy; if you get a bad one, you’ll become a philosopher.
Myrddin
CHAPTER TWENTY
Toy Soldiers
Trynne found her mother in the castle library with her younger brother. She paused at the doorway, gazing at the pair, and was nearly brought to tears. It was past the lad’s bedtime, but there was no sign of his grandmother. No, instead her mother was nestled on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her as if she were a child again. There was a book spread open on her lap, but Gannon showed no interest in it. He was playing with lead figures on the floor instead, doing a mock battle of some sort typical of a young boy. Sinia’s fingers caressed his fair hair in a tender gesture, and Trynne could see a look of sadness on her face. Then she lifted her eyes and found Trynne in the doorway.
“Your sister is home.”
Gannon’s head shot up, and he smiled broadly at Trynne before returning to the lead toys, hunched over them with his twiggy legs and jutting elbows. He was such a spindly thing.
Trynne pushed open the door and entered, though she felt her resolve start to fracture in face of her mother’s vulnerability. Sinia looked so very spent from her miraculous conjuring at the sanctuary of Our Lady. Truly she was the unsung hero of the moment. But such a display of Fountain magic would have exhausted anyone with the gift.
Trynne came up behind the boy and then knelt to look over his shoulder. “Who is fighting?” she asked in his ear.
“Papa and King Severn,” he said innocently, clashing the pieces together. His childish words struck her with pangs, especially because of the innocence with which they were spoken. It was a story for the ages. A magical winter threatening to sheathe Ceredigion in ice. A duke who betrayed his king in order to save the people and usher in the Dreadful Deadman, the king who was prophesied to bring all the kingdoms together. Would the coming days of peril threaten to overshadow their father’s legend? Did the fallen king still fester with resentment at being overthrown? Trynne’s heart felt black at the thought.