“There is more,” Ransom said.
The king stared at him in disbelief. Shocked into silence.
“My lord. You should also know that she is Fountain-blessed. And so am I. I do not know what her powers are, but they are formidable. She has made me believe things that were not true.”
The king glanced around until he saw a chair. He went to it and sank down on the cushion, his shoulders slumped under the load of surprises unburdened on him. He stared at nothing, rubbing his lips with his finger, silent and thoughtful.
“I see now why you didn’t tell me,” he said finally. “You feared my reaction, and you were under her spell.” The king’s haunted eyes looked up at Ransom. “There are many deceits tangled into this mess. Is what she told you the truth . . . or just an elaborate ploy? Did she attempt to use her magic to turn you against me? Or will she truly help us crush Estian if I pardon her for these serious crimes against my sovereignty?” The king shook his head. “I don’t know. But I do know this. You have proven yourself to be worthy of sitting on my council. I must include Lady Deborah in this secret. She, of anyone, can help me unravel this tangled knot of allegiances.”
“That sounds wise,” Ransom said, but he knew another person who could also help. “What about the queen?”
The king flinched, but then he nodded. “Painful as it is to consider, you’re right. I swore I would never look at her again. It wounds me to even think of seeing her. But no, this thorn must be pulled at last.”
There is something about the queen’s past she never speaks about. We’ve become as close as sisters, sharing stories and learning from each other. I know her heart is still tightly bound to her family lands, the Vexin, but something happened to her there long ago. Something that still causes her pain. I’ve heard that a knight serving a neighboring duchy seduced her. Is that true, or is the story more tangled?
—Claire de Murrow
Kingfountain
(prisoner still)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Bitter Memories
Not wanting to alert anyone to what was happening, Devon carried on with his scheduled meetings while Ransom sought out Lady Deborah at the king’s request and explained the situation. She agreed that there would be much to gain from talking to Emiloh. Yes, it would be painful, but they would have a better notion of how to manipulate the situation if they fully understood it. Although Ransom would have preferred not to take part in so personal a conversation, the king had insisted that both he and Lady Deborah should be there.
And so Ransom found himself pacing inside the solar that afternoon while he awaited the arrival of the queen. His mind lingered on Claire. Would she come with Emiloh? What would it be like to see her again?
The king stood by the veranda door, looking down at the palace gardens, his manner and expression subdued. The weather had been bright and sunny the last couple of days, but when Ransom glanced out the window, he saw thick clouds had gathered in the sky. A rumble of thunder presaged a storm.
Voices could be heard coming down the corridor, and Ransom forced himself to stop pacing and clasped his hands behind his back. Lady Deborah opened the door, and his eyes immediately shot beyond the queen to the woman who entered the room with her. Claire.
The sight of her hair, neither brown nor red, caused a tightness in his chest that nearly stole his breath. She looked startled to see him, her eyes widening with the surprise, her lips parting to reveal her teeth and even a glimpse of her pink tongue. She wore a fetching gown of green and gold that added to her natural beauty. He stared at her, unable to look away, and the years they’d spent apart seemed to disappear. Seeing her now, there was no doubt in his mind that Alix’s magic had manipulated him. His feelings for Claire were real, and any force capable of muffling them was frighteningly strong.
Claire studied him with equal intensity, but a look of brooding anger quickly replaced the surprise. Her lips pressed closed, and he saw her hands clench into fists. She tried to look indifferent as she stepped to one side, giving him another sidelong look.
Once she had passed, he glanced at the queen. She looked paler than she had in the past. She’d aged in her confinement, with more wrinkles about her eyes and a frailer form. Ransom remembered her riding skill and imagined she missed the freedom of it. The king was staring at her with an almost frightening intensity.
“Here you are,” the king said, his voice tinged with resentment. “Lady Deborah, if you’d escort Claire to another room to wait . . . ?”
“Yes, my lord,” said Lady Deborah. She was a small woman compared to the queen, but she held herself with poise and self-command. “Come, Claire. We shall visit while they talk.”
Claire looked at Ransom with an accusing gaze, wondering perhaps why he was permitted to stay.
He gave her an apologetic look, a slight shrug, and felt the squeezing of his heart increase after she was gone.
Emiloh stood by the entrance, taking in the scene and the audience. “What is this about, Devon? I was under the impression that you never wanted to see me again.”
“That would be my preference,” Devon said. “But alas, it cannot be helped.” The hostility between them made Ransom squirm inside. He felt loyalty to them both—although he’d made his vow to the king, it was the queen who’d ransomed him back when he was a prisoner.
“You’ll forgive me if I’m ignorant as to how I may help you,” Emiloh said. “Some news does mount the steps now and then, but I don’t know much about the current situation.”
“It is not for the present that I seek you out. It’s for the past.”
The queen’s brow furrowed. “Have we not hurt each other enough with that topic?”
Devon pursed his lips. “Maybe. But there’s something more I need to know.”
Emiloh’s gaze remained fixed on the king. “And why must Ransom be here? Does it concern him?”
“It does indeed, my dear. You may have heard we defeated Estian and were given the duchy of Bayree?”
“I have. What of it?”
“Tell me what you know of the duke’s niece. You were neighbors with the man, after all.”
Ransom watched as the queen’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What do you wish to know?”
“Do you know her name?”
“Alix, I recall,” said the queen stiffly. Her wariness increased. “What of it?”
The king turned toward the window again, his cheek muscles twitching. “Is she your daughter, Emi?”
Ransom watched the queen, waiting for a reaction. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he wasn’t prepared for the pain and guilt in her eyes. That look betrayed her. She must have known it, for she stared down at the floor.
“Yes,” she said huskily. “I believe so.”
The king sniffed, still looking away. He seemed to be wrestling with his own emotions. “You had an affair with the Duke of Bayree, then? Before we were married?”
“No,” said the queen.
The king winced. “After we were married?”
“You know that’s not true,” said the queen, her voice throbbing with anger at the accusation.
The king turned, staring at his wife with torment. “Do I?”