The Queen's Poisoner
Page 43
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Owen scrunched up his nose. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“You told me the king was going to kill you. You said he killed his nephews, but I know he didn’t. Grandpapa would not have lied to me.”
“He doesn’t tell you everything,” Owen said flatly. “He’s a grown-up.”
“He tells me everything,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “He’s never lied to me. Ever. You know about the coins in the fountains? They don’t grant wishes, Owen. That’s silly. The sexton shovels them out. Grandpapa told me, and he even let me watch. I never throw coins in fountains to make a wish anymore. It’s a silly tradition.”
Owen frowned. “Just because he said that doesn’t mean—”
“Yes, it does,” she interrupted. “He doesn’t lie to me. Here’s what he said. I knew you’d want to know. There was confusion when the old king, Cousin Eredur, died. We were only six, Owen. Just babies. Now we’re eight and we’re more grown-up. My grandpapa said that one of the princes lived in the West. The other lived in Kingfountain. Uncle Severn was named as their protector. You know his badge, right?”
“The boar,” Owen said, nodding. Just thinking about it made him want to shiver.
“The white boar,” she corrected. “You know his motto—‘Loyalty Binds Me.’ His own brother trusted him with his sons. But the queen tried to steal them away. She summoned the son in the West back to Kingfountain and sent soldiers with him. When Severn went to meet the prince, the queen was planning to have her men ambush and kill him. You see, the queen’s manor was on the way there. That’s where the ambush was going to happen. But someone warned him.”
Owen scratched the back of his head. He was still standing in the doorway. She sighed at him impatiently and waved for him to join her on the bed. He carefully shut the door and climbed up in front of her, kneeling like she was.
“Do you know who warned him?” Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer asked him archly. She had kept her voice low and conspiratorial.
Owen shrugged. “Ratcliffe?”
“No, no, no, Owen! Who was Severn’s most trusted man? The one he executed for treason! This was before Ratcliffe.”
Owen had no idea. “How do you know all this?”
“I love stories,” she purred like a cat. “Not pretend stories. I love true stories. My grandpapa tells me all about them. He’s so quiet, but he listens and he watches. He knows who to trust and who is lying. He listens all the time.”
Owen wondered why the granddaughter didn’t follow his example, but he kept that thought to himself.
She squeezed her knees, her eyes lit with excitement. “Lord Bletchley! Cousin Bletchley. He stood a good chance of being on the throne himself. King Eredur never trusted him, but Severn did because he was the one who warned him about the trap. They grabbed the prince as he was going to Kingfountain . . . on the very same road you traveled to get here. Isn’t this exciting?”
He was more confused than excited, but he did not want to dampen her enthusiasm. “So they grabbed the prince.”
“Exactly! That’s why the queen went to Our Lady. Her trap failed and she feared Severn’s revenge. She stayed in sanctuary and let her other son out. Everyone knows she has stayed in sanctuary so long because she’s still afraid of his revenge. The two hate each other.”
“I’ve met her,” Owen said softly, rubbing his chin. He would have to ask Ankarette about this.
“Really?” she asked, almost shrilly, grabbing both of his hands and squeezing them hard. He yanked them away.
“I snuck away from the palace,” he said. “I went to Our Lady to escape.”
Her mouth formed a big O of surprise and she sat up straight, as if all the fragments of a broken jug were coming together in her mind. The look she gave him transformed from eagerness to newfound admiration.
“You didn’t!” she whispered in awe.
Owen nodded. “I snuck out of the porter door in the wall and walked there. Ratcliffe caught me because Mancini told him I was there. I don’t like Mancini much.”
“He’s a spy, but he’s not very good,” she replied in agreement. “So you met her! They say she uses witchery to stay young, but I don’t believe any of that stuff. Was she pretty?”
Owen felt a little uncomfortable. “I think so. I don’t know.”
She waved aside his response. “That’s amazing, Owen—you are so brave! I thought you would be too scared to try something like that. So you like to sneak around, too?” Her choice of words implied that she did as well.
“You told me the king was going to kill you. You said he killed his nephews, but I know he didn’t. Grandpapa would not have lied to me.”
“He doesn’t tell you everything,” Owen said flatly. “He’s a grown-up.”
“He tells me everything,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “He’s never lied to me. Ever. You know about the coins in the fountains? They don’t grant wishes, Owen. That’s silly. The sexton shovels them out. Grandpapa told me, and he even let me watch. I never throw coins in fountains to make a wish anymore. It’s a silly tradition.”
Owen frowned. “Just because he said that doesn’t mean—”
“Yes, it does,” she interrupted. “He doesn’t lie to me. Here’s what he said. I knew you’d want to know. There was confusion when the old king, Cousin Eredur, died. We were only six, Owen. Just babies. Now we’re eight and we’re more grown-up. My grandpapa said that one of the princes lived in the West. The other lived in Kingfountain. Uncle Severn was named as their protector. You know his badge, right?”
“The boar,” Owen said, nodding. Just thinking about it made him want to shiver.
“The white boar,” she corrected. “You know his motto—‘Loyalty Binds Me.’ His own brother trusted him with his sons. But the queen tried to steal them away. She summoned the son in the West back to Kingfountain and sent soldiers with him. When Severn went to meet the prince, the queen was planning to have her men ambush and kill him. You see, the queen’s manor was on the way there. That’s where the ambush was going to happen. But someone warned him.”
Owen scratched the back of his head. He was still standing in the doorway. She sighed at him impatiently and waved for him to join her on the bed. He carefully shut the door and climbed up in front of her, kneeling like she was.
“Do you know who warned him?” Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer asked him archly. She had kept her voice low and conspiratorial.
Owen shrugged. “Ratcliffe?”
“No, no, no, Owen! Who was Severn’s most trusted man? The one he executed for treason! This was before Ratcliffe.”
Owen had no idea. “How do you know all this?”
“I love stories,” she purred like a cat. “Not pretend stories. I love true stories. My grandpapa tells me all about them. He’s so quiet, but he listens and he watches. He knows who to trust and who is lying. He listens all the time.”
Owen wondered why the granddaughter didn’t follow his example, but he kept that thought to himself.
She squeezed her knees, her eyes lit with excitement. “Lord Bletchley! Cousin Bletchley. He stood a good chance of being on the throne himself. King Eredur never trusted him, but Severn did because he was the one who warned him about the trap. They grabbed the prince as he was going to Kingfountain . . . on the very same road you traveled to get here. Isn’t this exciting?”
He was more confused than excited, but he did not want to dampen her enthusiasm. “So they grabbed the prince.”
“Exactly! That’s why the queen went to Our Lady. Her trap failed and she feared Severn’s revenge. She stayed in sanctuary and let her other son out. Everyone knows she has stayed in sanctuary so long because she’s still afraid of his revenge. The two hate each other.”
“I’ve met her,” Owen said softly, rubbing his chin. He would have to ask Ankarette about this.
“Really?” she asked, almost shrilly, grabbing both of his hands and squeezing them hard. He yanked them away.
“I snuck away from the palace,” he said. “I went to Our Lady to escape.”
Her mouth formed a big O of surprise and she sat up straight, as if all the fragments of a broken jug were coming together in her mind. The look she gave him transformed from eagerness to newfound admiration.
“You didn’t!” she whispered in awe.
Owen nodded. “I snuck out of the porter door in the wall and walked there. Ratcliffe caught me because Mancini told him I was there. I don’t like Mancini much.”
“He’s a spy, but he’s not very good,” she replied in agreement. “So you met her! They say she uses witchery to stay young, but I don’t believe any of that stuff. Was she pretty?”
Owen felt a little uncomfortable. “I think so. I don’t know.”
She waved aside his response. “That’s amazing, Owen—you are so brave! I thought you would be too scared to try something like that. So you like to sneak around, too?” Her choice of words implied that she did as well.
