The Queen's Poisoner
Page 41
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All the happiness drained from her face. In its place came an implacable anger. “Well, I won’t let him do it. I think that’s silly. No one kills a little child.”
Owen was feeling a little annoyed. “He already has,” he mumbled.
“What did you say?” she demanded.
“He has. Everyone knows about it. His brother had two sons. They were hostages, too. He killed them.”
“It’s not true,” she said angrily. “Not everything that’s whispered is true, Owen.” She reached out and seized his hand, her fingers digging into his flesh. “Don’t believe the lies.”
Owen gave her a challenging look. “Your grandpapa knows.” He glanced around the kitchen, a dark, brooding feeling enveloping him. “None of us are safe here.”
Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer stood and marched out of the kitchen, tossing her dark hair back over her shoulder.
Owen was glad she was gone. Mostly.
In the middle of the night, Owen was playing Wizr with Ankarette in the poisoner’s tower and telling her everything he could about the castle’s newest guest, the duke’s outspoken granddaughter. Ankarette liked to talk as they played the game, which forced him to speak and think at the same time.
“I don’t want to marry the Mortimer girl,” Owen said, blocking one of Ankarette’s attacks.
“She has decided opinions about many things,” Ankarette said, with a hint of amusement in her voice. “It’s a trait of those from the North. They tend to be outspoken.”
“Her grandfather isn’t,” Owen said glumly. “He never talks at all.” He grimaced when he realized her next move threatened him in two places at once. Since he would lose a piece regardless, he decided to sacrifice the lesser one. But he stopped himself before he made the move. Instead of responding to the threat, he positioned one of his pieces to threaten another one of hers.
“Well done, Owen,” she praised. “Counter a threat with a threat. An excellent strategy. Horwath is loyal. He’s not as outspoken here at court because this isn’t his power base. If you were with him up in the North, there’s a chance he would come across differently.”
“That’s where she says we’re going to live when we get married,” Owen said bleakly. He looked up at her face. “Can she force me to marry her?”
Ankarette pursed her lips. “No, Owen. It’s normal for girls to think about marriage. She really won’t have much choice in the matter at all. Girls seldom do.”
That gave him some relief. It’s not that he didn’t like the Mortimer girl. But he thought it strange that she was so convinced it was going to happen when they had only just met.
“She is brave,” Owen said, responding to her move to block him. Her next move won her the game. He loved Wizr and all the possibilities each game possessed. Even though he’d lost, Ankarette’s praise had put him in a good mood, making him feel more generous toward the newcomer.
“She sounds like it. A fish pond in the great hall. What an amusing idea.”
Owen helped to stack the pieces again in order. He liked doing that part almost as much as playing the game. There was something about the beginning of a Wizr game, when all the pieces were lined up properly. The world felt . . . better.
When he was done, he looked at Ankarette, watching the soft light of the candle play against her pretty face. “Do you think I should trust her?” he asked.
Ankarette considered it thoughtfully. “It’s too soon to tell,” she answered after a lengthy pause.
Owen thought so too. He had not known her long enough yet. Besides, sharing a secret with someone who so loved to talk would be risky. Owen said as much to Ankarette.
She shook her head. “Just because she talks more than you do, doesn’t mean she can’t be trusted. She just has a different personality. The question is whether she is trustworthy. And that, my dear Owen, will be determined over time. Who do you think her first loyalty is to?”
Owen perked up. “Her grandfather.”
“And who is her grandfather’s first loyalty to?” she asked, giving him a knowing smile.
Owen frowned. “The king.”
“Best to keep that in mind then, Owen.”
“Did the king kill his nephews?” he asked.
Ankarette looked at the floor. “I don’t really think so,” she answered. “But I was far away when it happened.”
“But everyone says . . .” She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes, and his voice trailed off. He swallowed. “But everyone says he did it, so it must be true.”
Owen was feeling a little annoyed. “He already has,” he mumbled.
“What did you say?” she demanded.
“He has. Everyone knows about it. His brother had two sons. They were hostages, too. He killed them.”
“It’s not true,” she said angrily. “Not everything that’s whispered is true, Owen.” She reached out and seized his hand, her fingers digging into his flesh. “Don’t believe the lies.”
Owen gave her a challenging look. “Your grandpapa knows.” He glanced around the kitchen, a dark, brooding feeling enveloping him. “None of us are safe here.”
Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer stood and marched out of the kitchen, tossing her dark hair back over her shoulder.
Owen was glad she was gone. Mostly.
In the middle of the night, Owen was playing Wizr with Ankarette in the poisoner’s tower and telling her everything he could about the castle’s newest guest, the duke’s outspoken granddaughter. Ankarette liked to talk as they played the game, which forced him to speak and think at the same time.
“I don’t want to marry the Mortimer girl,” Owen said, blocking one of Ankarette’s attacks.
“She has decided opinions about many things,” Ankarette said, with a hint of amusement in her voice. “It’s a trait of those from the North. They tend to be outspoken.”
“Her grandfather isn’t,” Owen said glumly. “He never talks at all.” He grimaced when he realized her next move threatened him in two places at once. Since he would lose a piece regardless, he decided to sacrifice the lesser one. But he stopped himself before he made the move. Instead of responding to the threat, he positioned one of his pieces to threaten another one of hers.
“Well done, Owen,” she praised. “Counter a threat with a threat. An excellent strategy. Horwath is loyal. He’s not as outspoken here at court because this isn’t his power base. If you were with him up in the North, there’s a chance he would come across differently.”
“That’s where she says we’re going to live when we get married,” Owen said bleakly. He looked up at her face. “Can she force me to marry her?”
Ankarette pursed her lips. “No, Owen. It’s normal for girls to think about marriage. She really won’t have much choice in the matter at all. Girls seldom do.”
That gave him some relief. It’s not that he didn’t like the Mortimer girl. But he thought it strange that she was so convinced it was going to happen when they had only just met.
“She is brave,” Owen said, responding to her move to block him. Her next move won her the game. He loved Wizr and all the possibilities each game possessed. Even though he’d lost, Ankarette’s praise had put him in a good mood, making him feel more generous toward the newcomer.
“She sounds like it. A fish pond in the great hall. What an amusing idea.”
Owen helped to stack the pieces again in order. He liked doing that part almost as much as playing the game. There was something about the beginning of a Wizr game, when all the pieces were lined up properly. The world felt . . . better.
When he was done, he looked at Ankarette, watching the soft light of the candle play against her pretty face. “Do you think I should trust her?” he asked.
Ankarette considered it thoughtfully. “It’s too soon to tell,” she answered after a lengthy pause.
Owen thought so too. He had not known her long enough yet. Besides, sharing a secret with someone who so loved to talk would be risky. Owen said as much to Ankarette.
She shook her head. “Just because she talks more than you do, doesn’t mean she can’t be trusted. She just has a different personality. The question is whether she is trustworthy. And that, my dear Owen, will be determined over time. Who do you think her first loyalty is to?”
Owen perked up. “Her grandfather.”
“And who is her grandfather’s first loyalty to?” she asked, giving him a knowing smile.
Owen frowned. “The king.”
“Best to keep that in mind then, Owen.”
“Did the king kill his nephews?” he asked.
Ankarette looked at the floor. “I don’t really think so,” she answered. “But I was far away when it happened.”
“But everyone says . . .” She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes, and his voice trailed off. He swallowed. “But everyone says he did it, so it must be true.”
