“You are restored,” Trynne said, clenching the ring in her fist. She glared at Fallon, who looked at once angry and disappointed.
Prince Elwis looked at his hand. The only sign the ring had been there was an indentation in his skin where it had clung. He let out a sigh, but he still looked full of wrath. He glowered at Fallon, his eyes and twitching cheek promising the game of revenge would continue.
Then, without a word, he turned and started to walk away.
Fallon chuffed. “He didn’t even thank you?” he said with disbelief.
“That was very misguided, Fallon Llewellyn,” Trynne said, rounding on him.
“Please, you’re not going to lecture me right now, are you?” he said. “You won. You were cleverer than either of us. A born peacemaker. No need to rub it in.”
“Do you realize how angry he was?” Trynne said, her voice rising.
“I don’t care how angry he was,” Fallon countered. “Do you really think he was going to draw his dagger and stab me here in front of all of these witnesses?”
Trynne blinked. “Yes. Yes, I do think he would have. This rivalry with him must end, Fallon. That road has no good destination. Turn around.”
He looked displeased by her rebuke. “I did it for you. For what he said to you.”
She threw up her hands. “Strange how I stopped caring about the whole thing long ago. Why do you keep shoveling fuel into the brazier?”
“How wonderful it is for you to forgive such a slight, but I’ll not have people speaking ill of you.” His face was livid with emotion. He was deeply bothered by something. She could see him wrestling inside with some dark emotion.
She wanted to be away from the sanctuary, away from Pree. She was going to best them both during the competition. With the ring in her possession, she would be able to deceive them all even better.
Suddenly Fallon’s expression changed, his eyes bulging. When Trynne turned around, she saw Morwenna striding toward them, a flushed look on her face.
“What is it?” Trynne gasped, running forward and taking the other girl’s arms. “What has happened?”
Morwenna blinked when she saw Fallon. Her eyes went from one of them to the other. Then she shook her head. “There’s little time. We must get to Kingfountain, straightaway. The king sent me to find you.”
The sound of boots came again, and then Elwis was there, his eyes narrowing with concern. “Lady Morwenna, what brings you here?”
“We must all go to Kingfountain,” the poisoner said. “The whole council of the Ring Table has been summoned by the king. The invasion has begun. Gahalatine has attacked Brugia.”
“Where!” Elwis nearly shouted with shock. His eyes were wide with desperation.
“The eastern fortress of Guilme. They attacked by sea.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Troubled Waters
The feeling inside the main hall of Kingfountain was as turbulent as the fountain waters in the chapel. Within the span of a few brief hours, the king’s council had assembled in chairs around the ancient Ring Table. Guards had barred the doors, and no servants were admitted. Trynne had helped bring Fallon’s parents from Edonburick, while her mother and Morwenna had assembled the other nobles of the combined realms.
Trynne did not have a seat at the table, but her eyes kept returning to the one Myrddin had named the Siege Perilous. It was empty at the moment because her parents were standing off to one side, conferring with the king and queen in low tones while the rest of the assembled lords and ladies were discussing the news of the invasion with great agitation. Trynne stood aloof, feeling out of place. Her insides squirmed with worry at the thought of losing her father. There could not be much time left. She knew that she would be asked to stay behind to defend the homeland, but she equally knew that it was the Fountain’s will that she accompany and protect the king. How could she accomplish both?
To drive away her frantic thoughts, she cast her eyes over those assembled. Not since the royal wedding and coronation had so many nobles gathered together. But this was not a festive occasion. The absence of Myrddin was conspicuous.
There, at one end of the table, were Prince Elwis and his taciturn father, heads bent low in conversation. Elwis knelt alongside his father’s chair, speaking to him quietly but urgently. The father kept stroking his lip nervously as Elwis whispered to him, occasionally earning a cross brow or a curt shake of the head.
Fallon paced like an animal in a cage. He longed for conflict, and Trynne could judge from his bearing that he was spoiling for a confrontation with Gahalatine’s hosts. His mother, Elysabeth, could be heard even over the tumult.