His arrival in Ploemeur had been a source of much-needed comfort to her. It did not change the terribleness of the situation, but it did soothe part of her misery. He leaned back in the chair, waiting patiently for her to make her next move.

“Are you going to take a ship to Kingfountain for the Gauntlet?” she asked him. “It’s in three days.”

Fallon rubbed his chin and then shook his head. “No, I’ll be riding directly. I think an overland route is safer, considering Gahalatine’s fleet is still at sea. Chandigarl may be to the east, but that doesn’t mean he can’t strike from the west.” He sniffed, stroking his upper lip. “I’ve seen some of the latest Espion maps that Kevan commissioned. Our world is like this fruit,” he said, leaning over to a nearby table and snatching up a large orange. He rubbed his thumb across the peel and slowly rotated it with his wrist. “The Genevese sail to many foreign ports. I think they know much more about Chandigarl than they are letting on.” He wagged his eyebrows at her. “It’s your move.”

She had already planned her next three and adjusted one of her pawns forward to begin her attack.

“Genevar has been a trading nation for centuries,” Trynne said. “They go to great lengths to keep their secrets.”

“Who can blame them?” Fallon replied with a snort. “Without their ships moving things back and forth across the seas, we’d all starve. Well, except for Brythonica. You’d survive on your berries, but only just. That was a good move. I see what you’re trying to do.”

“Do you now?” Trynne asked in a teasing voice. You can’t get used to this, the voice in her head reminded her, he’s not yours to keep.

“Yes, it’s as obvious as the sunrise. Your plan won’t work.”

“I think you are just trying to trick me into revealing something.”

He smirked. “You’ve already given yourself away.” Then the smirk faded into a sweet smile as he glanced around the room. “I have so many fond memories of this place. Hiding in the larder to sneak fresh-baked tarts. Watching your father stare at the fireplace. Finding your mother’s shoes in odd places.”

They were both quiet for a moment, lost in thought about how things used to be, and then Fallon heaved a sigh. “I should leave. This game could last awhile and I’m tempted to linger.” He leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees. “If there were some way I could take this pain from you, I would. My sister is preparing to flee to the sanctuary of Our Lady, trusting in the integrity of a foreign emperor to protect her and my niece. I’m not certain we can trust Gahalatine’s integrity. If he had any, he would not have attacked us in the first place.”