“Just tell me!” she insisted.
“Very well, Trynne,” he said, holding up his hands. “You keep your own secrets, you know.”
She sighed with exasperation.
“That wasn’t fair. Forgive me. Lord Amrein once said, and I believe he heard the saying from your father, that a wise ruler keeps his friends near and his enemies nearer. I don’t think they’ve followed their own advice in regards to Severn. He’s been isolated for far too long, and I know he wishes revenge against your father.”
“How do you know this?” she pressed. “From Morwenna?”
He nodded curtly. “She is worried her father’s loyalty was broken by his defeat. She’s his own daughter, and you can imagine she feels the conflict most keenly. But that is not my only evidence.” He rubbed his hand along the stone rampart. His hair was tousled by the wind, and she had the urge to smooth it out. “For the last few years, I have been . . . how do I say this? . . . getting to know the Espion better.” He gave her a rakish look. “There is so much that happens in this realm. So much intrigue that never is discussed in wider circles. Lord Amrein isn’t getting any younger. I flatter myself that perhaps the king will choose me as his replacement. In the future,” he hedged, holding up his hands. “Your father was younger than me when he was entrusted with the duty,” he added under his breath, and Trynne once again heard the throb of jealousy in his voice. Fallon had long bristled at feeling underused, forced to live in the shadow of the older generation. “Be that as it may—I don’t know why I am rambling so much—I’ve gotten to know many of the Espion on very familiar terms. They love to boast and brag. When we were in Brugia, for example, you found me at their hideout. That’s not the first time I’ve been to one.”
“You are rambling,” Trynne said, shaking her head. “Just say it, Fallon. What do you know?”
“The Espion has said that the old king has some new acquaintances. Men, or so it’s believed, who wear black robes and silver masks. The masks hide their identities. Several of them have arrived at Glosstyr within the last year. No one knows where they come from or who they are.”
Trynne’s brow wrinkled. “What does Morwenna say about them?”
He held up his hand abruptly. “I haven’t asked her that. And I’m not sure she would know. They started coming after she left for poisoner school, and she’s not been back very often. These men in silver masks do not stay long. The Espion struggle to stay informed in Glosstyr, as you well know, so by the time we hear about them, they are long gone. Men in masks, Trynne? Does that not sound like a conspiracy to you?”
“It does,” she answered, her insides roiling even more. “My father knows, doesn’t he?”
Fallon shook his head. “I’ve not said anything yet, as I have no solid proof. Only suspicions. Why do you think I’ve been acting so interested in Morwenna? To rankle Elwis, naturally, but also to create the idea that I would be interested in becoming part of the conspiracy.”
Trynne stared at him in shock.
“You should see the look on your face!” he said, laughing. “I suppose I have enough guile for both of us.” Her hand was also resting on the stone, and suddenly he put his hand on top of it. “I wanted you to hear this from my own mouth, Tryneowy Kiskaddon. I am loyal to the king. I am loyal to my sister. And I am loyal to both of your parents. If I seem a bit angry and petulant, especially in public, please understand that I’m trying to be useful to the crown in another way. A spy is only as good as his deception. I’ll not ask to go to poisoner school or anywhere like that. But I have been training secretly with the Espion in Dundrennan. Clark has been a mentor of mine for many years.” He squeezed her fingers. “And you have been my dearest friend since childhood. You deserve to know the truth, especially if you hear rumors or nonsense about Morwenna and me. Rest assured; I do not love her. My affections have been elsewhere for some time.” He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “Just so we understand each other.”
Her mouth had gone totally dry at his words and she felt a flush creeping into her cheeks. Her mother had once warned her that she would not marry Fallon Llewellyn. That thought had disappointed her, since they were such dear friends and companions. Should she tell him this at such a tender moment? How would he react if she did?
“You’re speechless,” he said. “That’s a first. I blurt out my feelings for you and you gape at me like a codfish.” There was a gleam in his eye as he heaved a theatrical sigh. “Well, I’ve probably startled you. Think on what I’ve said.” He squeezed her fingers again, then released her hand and brushed his thumb against the corner of her mouth, the part that could smile. “Why do you think I’ve teased you with the name Cousin for so many years? I often say the opposite of what I feel. I’m an inconsiderate jack.”