The Usurper (37 page)
Byren sensed that the kingsdaughter was leaving a lot unsaid.
'That reminds me, I meant to return your family's emblems.' Isolt lifted the chains over her head. 'I don't want to keep what isn't mine. This large gold one, was it King Rolen's?'
'Yes. It's Byren's now,' Fyn said.
As Byren accepted his father's emblem from Isolt, his vision clouded with tears. He had seen it resting on his father's broad chest so many times, never had he thought to wear it himself one day. The old seer's prophecy had come true, in part.
'And this silver one, Byren, was it your mother's?'
'Yes.' He blinked away the tears and his voice caught as he replied. 'I... I would like you to have it.'
Isolt blushed as he took it from her fingers and replaced it around her neck.
Fyn pointed. 'The electrum emblem was Lence's as kingsheir.'
None of them spoke.
Byren cleared his throat. 'I will save it for my first born. And I guess we will have to keep Piro's safe for her.'
'I have a feeling we'll be seeing Piro when we least expect it,' Fyn said softly.
'Where is your emblem, Fyn?' Isolt asked.
'Safely hidden and that is where it can stay. I make no claim to Rolencia.' His eyes held Isolt's. 'Or Merofynia.'
Byren wondered if he was missing something, but before he could ask, Orrade came back.
'We sail at dawn, my king.'
My king... that was what Florin called him. Byren felt a rush of excitement. He must find her, make sure she was safe.
'I can see you two want to make your war plans,' Isolt said, nodding from Byren to Orrade. She stood and bowed to Byren. 'I'm tired. Good night.'
Byren felt guilty, caught ignoring his betrothed. 'Fyn, can you escort Isolt up to her room? I don't want Palatyne's sympathisers trying to kidnap her. Set a guard on her door. Better still, stay and guard her yourself.'
Fyn opened his mouth, then closed it. 'Yes, my king.'
'Oh, I'm not king yet. I still have to reclaim Rolencia.'
Fyn strode from the feasting hall with Isolt at his side, then realised he was making her run to keep up and slowed his pace.
'My pardon, Queen Isolt.'
'Fyn?' She stopped at the base of the long curved stair. Servants had lit scented candles and the flickering flames sculpted her face.
He feared to meet her eyes in case she saw what he could not hide.
'Don't call me queen. We've been through too much together to -'
'You are my brother's betrothed and rightful queen of Merofynia, what else could I call you?'
'Friend?'
Fyn swallowed and managed to smile. 'You are right. My pardon -'
'So formal.' She rolled her eyes.
Fyn laughed but his heart was heavy. 'Come, you must be tired.'
They walked in silence up the curving stair. Isolt led the way into her chambers, pausing at a window that overlooked the Landlocked Sea. It was dusk now and still raining. Fyn could just see that Palatyne and the king's bodies had been removed from the terrace.
'So the board is cleared, ready for another game of Duelling Kingdoms,' Isolt said.
Fyn's Affinity tingled as if something was on the edge of his perception. He frowned, trying to make it clear.
'What was that?' Isolt asked.
'Nothing.'
She sighed. 'Well, I am glad it is all over.'
'Yes, my queen,' Fyn said. But his Affinity told him otherwise.
