“My thanks to you both. Trynne, can we speak on the balcony for a moment? If you’ll excuse us?” Genevieve added, looking at Sureya, who seemed startled that a queen had begged her pardon.

Trynne retreated to the balcony with Genevieve. Outside, the air was fresh and cool, smelling of late summer. From her vantage point, Trynne could barely see the magnolia gardens. Her heart lurched from the memory of the last time she had been there. She’d not stepped foot in the gardens since Fallon had made his proposal to her—a proposal she had rejected despite her heart’s desire for him. Her mother, whose visions of the future always came to pass, had seen her marrying someone else. Fallon was unreliable too, and despite her feelings for him, she couldn’t trust him.

Any relationship between them would only end badly.

Kingfountain had always been a treasure to her, a place of childhood memories, a second home. But since their confrontation in the garden, those old memories were tinged with bitterness. She and Fallon had hardly spoken since then, and whenever they did come face-to-face, her wounds felt raw and painful. Fallon had changed in the months that had followed. He was more serious, more circumspect and distant. She missed his quips and teasing now that they were lost to her.

“You’ve a faraway look in your eye,” Genevieve said.

Trynne gave her one of her crooked smiles. “I left Averanche in the morning, arrived in Chandleer at sunset, and now it’s midmorning again. I’ve been halfway around the world and back, and the day has hardly started. It was enough to make my head spin.”

Genevieve knew she was being deflected—the look in her eyes said as much—but she didn’t press. “I am indeed grateful that you are safe. Gahalatine is full of surprises. One moment he’s in one place. Another he’s gone. He’s completely unpredictable.”

Trynne nodded. “He’s restless, I think. Full of ambition.” Her brow furrowed. “But I’m concerned by something he shouted just as I was leaving.” She looked into Genny’s eyes. “He said, ‘I know of you.’” A cold feeling welled up inside her, making her shiver. “He knew I wasn’t from the oasis.” She quieted, staring out at the river, at the sanctuary of Our Lady and the surging waterfall that could be heard in the distance like a soothing murmur. She imagined Kingfountain being attacked by that fleet of treasure ships. She imagined Wizrs turning the river backward and making it possible for soldiers to cross. The defenses of the city, which had once seemed impregnable, now seemed wholly inadequate.

“Yes, it’s obvious he recognized you, but that doesn’t mean he placed you.”