Drew nodded. “I never felt that from Myrddin,” he said. “Or your mother. Or from you, for that matter. Do you think that my sister was part of this plot, Trynne? Do you think she was trying to dethrone me?”

“Yes, my lord,” Trynne said honestly. “Yes, I do think she is part of it.”

As they approached the quiet fountain, the panic she’d felt earlier began to subside. She had feared the waters would be guarded. Glancing around, she reached out with her magic, knowing full well that Rucrius would be able to feel her doing so. She wanted him to know she had escaped with the king. She wanted him to worry about what they would do next.

At the center of the fountain was a series of sculptures depicting scenes of the Deep Fathoms, including a representation of the Lady of the Fountain. As Trynne stared up at it, she wondered where her mother was at that moment. Was it dark where she was, or daybreak? A breeze washed the scent of the magnolias over her. Trynne closed her eyes and stepped over the edge of the railing. The king followed her, gazing back at the castle he was abandoning. His mouth was pressed into an angry frown. The sword Firebos dipped down toward the waters as he held it in a loose grip.

“To Dundrennan, then,” he said to her.

Trynne shook her head. “No. To Averanche first. It’s time you met your other protectors, my lord.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE The King’s Defense

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The King’s Defense

There was not even a pale glimmer of dawn in the horizon yet. But the Oath Maidens were already up and training fiercely. The noise of staves clacking against each other was mixed with the din of steel blades. Trynne had brought King Drew through the garden fountain to her castle and had walked to the upper battlements, which offered a view of the yard. True to form, Captain Staeli was drilling the girls hard before the dawn, and he would continue to drill them throughout the day.

For a long while, the king stared dumbfounded at the action below in the yard. There were easily a hundred girls wearing padded tunics and leather arm bracers. Some trained with shields, others with spears. A row of girls with bows practiced relentlessly with the archery butts. Those with long hair had it tethered back into braids or bound with straps. They were all dressed like warriors. Trynne couldn’t suppress a smile as she leaned over the wall, gazing down at the assembled group.

“I’d not imagined there were so many,” the king whispered in amazement. “This is what Genevieve has been supporting?”