Drew leaned back against the table after they had left. “By the Fountain,” he said with a gasp, clutching his throat as if he’d just escaped being strangled. “I scarcely know what to say or think.”

“Poisoners are trained to be clever,” Trynne said with a small laugh. She was trembling inside at how close it had come to violence. She’d felt danger moments before Morwenna had dropped that knife. The lack of food had not only made her famished but light-headed as well.

“So it’s true,” Drew said with a mocking smile. “Gahalatine proposed to you?”

She shrugged, tilting her head to one side. “Yes, I could say that he did.”

“You could have told me.”

“I think jumping into the cesspit with you may have distracted me,” Trynne countered. She wrung her hands, beginning to pace. Was Fallon loyal? He had arrested Morwenna, but was he just as compromised as she was? She knew what she wanted to believe, but she couldn’t let her feelings for him blind her.

“While secrets are being laid bare,” she went on, “I have also sensed another Fountain-blessed here in the castle.”

“Duke Severn?” the king prompted.

“No, I already knew about him, and his power is mostly spent for the time being. There is someone else. I feel it nagging at me. I’m conflicted, my lord. Can we trust Fallon? One of the maidens, who is from Dundrennan, told me ere we arrived that the garrison had been marched away to defend Kingfountain. An Espion told us the same. Fallon has flatly denied it.” She turned her head, trying to conceal her confusion. “I did go to Morwenna’s tower before we left. I found . . . I found some of Fallon’s clothes—with his badge—among her belongings.”

“That does not bode well,” the king said with a weary sigh. “You suppose they are lovers?”

“I don’t know what to suppose,” Trynne said. “Fallon is very . . . complicated.”

Drew snorted, and when she looked at him, he was nodding in agreement. “I’ve never fully understood Genny’s brother. In the last year he has changed for the better. I named him my champion and defender, but only because the Painted Knight didn’t come to the Gauntlet. I had hoped . . . almost expected that he would.” He rubbed his temples.

“Well,” he said with a sigh, “the truth will out, as they say. Owen thought keeping Morwenna close would be the wise course of action. She’s still very young.” He gave Trynne a pointed look, acknowledging that the two were of an age. “I hope she hasn’t betrayed me. I forgave her father. Could I forgive her? Could I chain my own sister to a rock on the mountain yonder and watch her freeze to death?” His voice broke and he shook his head.

Trynne felt sorry for him. The decision, ultimately, was his to make.