Sinia nodded, then pressed a kiss on Trynne’s cheek. “I love you, Tryneowy Kiskaddon. You have not been a disappointment to me. I love you with a mother’s heart. Nothing can change that, no matter what choices you make. The Fountain has work for you to do.” She smiled tenderly. “I don’t know what it is, for the Fountain has not revealed it to me. But I sense its importance. You are my greatest treasure.”
Her words made Trynne’s heart shudder and tears spill from her eyes. They embraced again, holding each other tightly.
“Ahem,” Captain Pyne murmured, coughing into his fist. “The tide, my lady.”
Sinia ignored him, holding Trynne and stroking her hair while she wept, but she finally stepped away. It hurt to watch as the captain escorted Sinia up the gangplank. There were sailors and servants, archers and knights, all wearing white tabards decorated with the Raven badge of her mother’s house. There were ravens in the rigging, she noticed, birds that would go out to sea with the ship. Trynne felt a hand on her shoulder and noticed her grandmother had sidled up next to her. The tears in the older woman’s eyes reminded her that she was not alone in her grief. Hugging her grandmother, Trynne watched as the boat left the pier, the wind filling the small sails as the captain barked orders.
It grew smaller and smaller until it was gone.
The feast day of St. Benedick had finally arrived, and Trynne was at once nervous and excited to spend the afternoon with Elwis Asturias in Marq. Her mother’s ship had been gone for nearly a fortnight, and the palace at Ploemeur had already begun to feel like a prison. Trynne still started each morning at the training yard in Averanche before bathing and changing into a gown and returning to Ploemeur in time for breakfast. She had never been more thankful for the ability to use the ley lines to travel.
Today, she wore the gown she had purchased with Captain Staeli on the trip they’d made to Marq. Her stomach was full of butterflies as she stared at herself in the mirror, making sure the lacings were all fastened and tidy. The white blouse was bunched together with garters at the upper arms, elbows, and wrists. The black velvet hat with the silver edging was still waiting at the table. It wasn’t fashionable to wear such hats in Brythonica, so Trynne hadn’t put it on yet. She had enjoyed strolling the city and seeing the canals and gondolas. What would it be like to ride in one with Elwis handling the oars? Her stomach did a little turn.
It occurred to her that they would both be competing at the Gauntlet of Kingfountain shortly afterward. She and the Oath Maidens had been preparing for the event for months. Would she be able to reveal herself at last? She smiled at her reflection in the mirror, but the crooked part of it seemed to mock her.
It was in this very room that Dragan had attacked her.
Just thinking about her father’s enemy kindled a dark, evil feeling in her heart—along with the fear she had long sought to control. She was no longer a helpless child. She remembered sensing Dragan in the room that day. He had the uncanny gift of being able to turn invisible. Well, she knew the word of power that could expose him. And he knew that she could. The last time she had seen him was on her first, fateful trip to Marq. She wondered, darkly, not for the first time, if he had been involved in her father’s disappearance.
A rap at the door startled her, making her heart quicken with a spasm of dread.
“Enter,” she called, fussing over her skirts once again, feeling herself hideous and unworthy of any man’s love.
The door opened and Benjamin entered.
“My lady, there’s a messenger here from Brugia. A captain by the name of Abinante. He says he bears a message from Grand Duke Elwis that he’s to deliver to your hand alone.”
Trynne pursed her lips. “Is he with you?”
“He is waiting in the solar, my lady.”
“You can bring him here,” Trynne said.
Benjamin nodded and quickly departed. A moment later, the door opened and Gannon came in with their grandmother.
“It’s time to go to the House of Pillars,” Gannon said, holding their grandmother’s hand and swinging it eagerly. “Are you coming with us? Grandpapa has the carriage ready.”
Trynne shook her head. “I have a messenger from Brugia to see first. Why don’t you go ahead and I will meet you down there. I’ll probably get there before you will.”
“Very well,” Grandmother said, tugging at Gannon’s hand. She shot Trynne a conspiring look. “You are leaving for Brugia at noon, my dear?”
Trynne nodded, but she could barely pay attention—her heart was thumping as she considered what news the messenger might have brought. Her family left, and shortly thereafter Benjamin returned with a tall, barrel-chested man who was bald and bore earrings. With a crinkled white collar that fanned out at the throat, his outfit was distinctly Brugian. The fabrics were of the very best quality, she noticed, and he wore a sword at his side. Still, it was the medallion around his neck that caught her attention most. She’d seen that kind before, a circle with several rays shining from it. Gahalatine had worn something similar, and the sight of it put her immediately on her guard.