Trynne walked down the hallway, nodding deferentially to the guardswomen as she passed, studying the doors leading to each of the suites. The doors were intricately carved with murals showing the fashions of Chandigarl. Everything was new and shining, and the marble tiles on the floors reminded her of a new Wizr set. Her thoughts were all awhirl: Would the Tay al-Ard work in the tower? Had Morwenna been caught? Was the poisoner a friend or foe?
Then she found it. The door handles were shaped like magnolia flowers, causing a prick of memory from the gardens of Kingfountain. The arch of the doorway was bedecked with extravagant gold flourishes, and the columns she passed were wide and full of grooves. Huge urns full of green plants decorated the sides. The details of the place were exquisite, and they were intended to show the lifestyle that wealth could purchase.
Trynne stopped and stood before the door. A guardswoman could be heard approaching from down the way, and Trynne knew she’d likely be challenged if found standing there. She needed to know if Lady Evie was alone. Using her magic would reveal herself, but it was a risk she had to take.
Trynne sent a trickle of magic into the room. She felt the presence of another Fountain-blessed inside. Was it a Wizr? She knew if she probed too much, it would alarm them, so she gripped the handle of the door and opened it. It released easily and quietly despite its heaviness.
Everything was bright and full of light. The interior of the suite was furnished with couches and decorative tables holding an assortment of flowers she’d never seen before. There was a lush balcony with gauzy curtains that reminded her a little of Ploemeur. Lady Evie stood beside it. She had a worried look on her face. She was dressed in a gown from Atabyrion, a simple thing made of green with a golden girdle. Her hair was dark and braided and she was fidgeting with her wedding ring. Lady Evie turned as Trynne entered the room and then her eyes widened with surprise. The worry deepened.
“I told you she would come,” said a voice from behind the curtains. There was a shadow there she hadn’t noticed before, but she recognized the voice.
Gahalatine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Threat and Mate
The curtain rustled slightly and Gahalatine emerged from the balcony. The sun shone on him from behind, illuminating the emperor’s decorative tunic, which was similar to that of Rucrius—full of painstaking detail. There was a belt that went around it and three familiar necklaces hung around his neck. The medallion she’d seen before along with the claw or tooth. His hair was askew and tousled, and he had a small beard, trimmed very close. He stopped next to Lady Evie, whom he towered over.
“You were expecting someone?” Trynne asked, feeling her heart flutter with fear. Gahalatine was standing too close to Evie. She had been the bait for this trap. Trynne bit her lip, feeling herself a fool.
“I was and you didn’t disappoint me,” he answered smoothly, giving her a wary but interested look. He brushed his finger along his upper lip. “I recognize the outfit from Chandleer. When we last met. It suits you, but I think you’d be more comfortable in an outfit like the queen’s. We were speaking about you, Tryneowy Kiskaddon. I was learning what I could from the queen, but she is very strong-willed. She is also deeply loyal to you.”
“Loyalty binds me,” Lady Evie said.
Trynne took a step deeper into the room, glancing to either side to see if they were truly alone. She had only felt the presence of one Fountain-blessed in the room.
“Did you have to use your gift on her?” Trynne asked in a challenging tone.
“Only a little,” Gahalatine answered. He stepped away from Lady Evie, putting himself between the two women. “I know it won’t work against you.”
Trynne’s mind was whirling fast. How much did Gahalatine know or suspect about her? What had Lady Evie told him? What had he learned from others?
“Lady Evie, are you well? Are you all right?” She gave Gahalatine an accusing look. “What did she tell you about me?” she asked, locking eyes with him as she edged a little closer.
“How you were injured as a child,” Gahalatine answered. “I admire how you’ve overcome your challenges.” His tone told her he meant it. He clasped his hands behind his back, studying her. “She told me you’re the Lady of Averanche, a very small port city on the border between Brythonica and Westmarch. It’s on my maps. I’ve gazed at it from St. Penryn’s. I’ve heard that you stopped entertaining suitors.”
He gave her a pointed look that made her throat catch.