Home > Books > The Hollow Crown (Kingfountain #4)(74)

The Hollow Crown (Kingfountain #4)(74)

Author:Jeff Wheeler

“Stronger words than that come to mind,” Trynne said at last, finally able to unloose her tongue. She’d been wrestling with her feelings, at the surprise—nay, glee—that his words had unleashed inside of her.

“Let’s have them, then!” he said with a delighted smirk.

“First off, you are cruel,” she said with a smile of her own. “You’ve taunted me for years. You’re saying that all this time you were declaring yourself?”

“Some men woo with honeyed words. I woo with vinegar.” He shrugged.

“You are impossible.”

“Impossible, incorrigible, incomprehensible, infallible, impassible, and incontrovertible as well.”

“You forgot unintelligible,” Trynne muttered darkly, enjoying the banter and the shared memory.

“Only because I ran out of breath!” he added with laughter. Then he looked over her shoulder. “What a sunset,” he breathed. “Look at it.” He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around to face it. The sun was making the ocean molten silver. A few wispy clouds hung on the horizon, flaming orange and purple. The surf crashed against the cliff walls. She felt him behind her, standing close, his fingers still resting on her shoulders.

“And here I am, flirting with the Lady of Averanche. Well, tomorrow I will flirt with you in Pree.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “My, but you are short. Sometimes I think you’re still only twelve.”

She butted him in the ribs with her elbow, hard enough to make him gasp.

“Guff! I deserved that.”

“You did.” The breeze smelled of sea and salt and wildness. She leaned back against him, knowing she should break the spell he was casting around her heart, as his arms wrapped around her shoulders. Her mother had seen a vision of her marrying someone else. She wondered, obliquely, if that future lover would be a stranger who didn’t know her past, her deformity. She blinked rapidly, feeling pain strike her heart in a way that nearly made her flinch. No, she wanted to savor this moment with Fallon. She wanted to watch the sunset with him before going down to the solar and entertaining him as an honored guest.

Love was such a fragile thing.

The next morning, before dawn, Trynne was in her room, fastening on a leather arm bracer, when a knock sounded on the door. Her maid, Adalie, was a sprightly girl of fourteen. She rushed to the door and stopped there.

“Who is it?” she asked in a whisper.

Trynne didn’t hear the muffled response, but Adalie quickly unlocked the door and opened it. Captain Staeli strode in, already wearing his training gear. She gave him a concerned look. “What’s wrong, Captain?”

He scratched his beard. “I thought it best if you knew before coming down. The lord of Dundrennan is in the training yard. Should I send him away?”

Trynne blinked in surprise. “I didn’t think he rose this early.”

Staeli shrugged, unruffled as always. “It’s your castle, my lady. Do you think he suspects you?”

“Suspects me of what?” she asked.

“That you were the one he saw at the Gauntlet.”

Trynne frowned. “He hasn’t said a word about it. But I don’t think it would be wise if he caught us in the training yard this morning. I support canceling our regular training for the day. I should go entertain our guest.”

“Wearing that?” the captain asked archly.

Trynne shook her head. “No, I’ll change first. Thanks for the warning, Captain.”

He bowed and then turned away.

Adalie gave her a mischievous grin after Staeli was gone. “He’s rather handsome, my lady,” she said slyly.

“You think so? Captain Staeli has never struck me that way.”

Adalie’s smile grew even wider. “You know that’s not who I meant. Which gown would you like me to fetch?”

“Preferably one I can still swing a sword in,” Trynne answered with a raised eyebrow. “The blue one with the silver sleeves.”

After the quick change, she walked down to the training yard of the castle. It was much smaller than the one she was used to in Ploemeur, but it served the need. She had presumed that Fallon would linger abed all morning. She was a little surprised at his self-discipline, but then, he had been training for the Gauntlets.

When she reached the yard, he was sweating profusely, kneeling down with a hand resting on his sword pommel and his breath coming hard. He wore a comfortable jerkin and pants that gave no nod to his rank. She caught the glint of the chain around his neck showing the prizes he had won. He saw her approaching him from the bailey doors.

 74/105   Home Previous 72 73 74 75 76 77 Next End