The Queen's Poisoner (The Kingfountain Series Book 1) by Jeff Wheeler Page A
Authors: Jeff Wheeler
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went crimson with mortification. He tried to chew faster so he could clear his mouth to reply, and the exaggerated motion caused a few titters from bystanders. The king gave the young man a vicious look. Then he turned his gaze on a girl of about ten. “Good morrow, Lady Kate. Your eyes are puffy. Were you weeping already?”
“No, my lord,” the girl stammered fearfully. “My eyes were itchy, ’tis all.”
“Itchy,” the king replied with a chuckle. “It’s probably the smoke. This is a smoky hall,” he said, his eyes roaming the rafters. “Some fresh air will do you well. Try not to wheeze.”
Owen watched as the king prowled around the hall, choosing victim after victim. Age did not spare anyone from his barbed wit. His words were feints and thrusts, always sharp and always ready to draw blood. This was what Owen had to look forward to every day. To be wheedled and teased by a sarcastic king who used children as his royal food tasters.
He felt a soft hand on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw Princess Elyse standing just beside him. As soon as he noticed her, she dropped her hand and chose a cube of cheese and plopped it into her mouth.
“So you went to the kitchen this morning?” she whispered, giving him a private glance. Though she stood next to him, her body was angled to face the table as if she were only there for the food.
Owen nodded, mesmerized by her presence. It was not just the beauty of her golden hair and hazel eyes. She had a peace about her, a gentleness that seemed totally devoid of any pretense. It was a look that invited Owen’s trust.
“You will be safe there,” she whispered. “Liona is loyal to my mother. I asked the king if I could be your guardian, but he refused. He thinks it’s beneath my dignity.” She frowned slightly. “I had two little brothers . . . you see,” she said, her voice suddenly thick. “You remind me of one of them. He would have been twelve.” Her fingers gently mussed his hair. “I will see you when I can, Owen. But it will not be often. Have courage.” Then she stepped away from him to talk to a set of younger girls, admiring their dresses and their hair.
Owen felt a knot of pain in his heart. He wanted to escape. He needed to find a way out.
But first he would need to know the grounds.
The palace of Kingfountain was built on a wooded hill alongside the mighty river and near the impressive waterfall. From the outside, it seemed massive—all thick walls and pointed turrets—but Owen quickly realized that it was hollow in the middle. The walls were steep and tall and enclosed an interior garden area with trees and walkways and interesting paths. One could walk around the main corridor of the castle in a giant loop, which made it seem like a never-ending fortress. But once Owen had walked it a few times with Monah Stirling, he began to learn the tricks of the place. It was after a walk with Drew that he learned about the exterior grounds. Because it was built on a hill, there was also a lower level, another series of walls and bulwarks to defend from invaders, and even lower down, a third portion that interlocked with the second set of walls. From one of the tower windows, he could see the different layers, all the way down to the horse masters breaking new stallions in the stables far below. There were yards with the royal coaches. There were towers everywhere, including the knifelike one that had caught his eye the first day.
It would take weeks for Owen to visit every hall, explore every staircase, and gaze at every tapestry. But he had an eye for details, and he quickly made little checkpoints for himself—like the suit of armor holding a poleax that led to a gallery of paintings. Or the iron-railed fountain that led to the sanctuary within the palace where he could hear the sound of lapping waters.
Monah was not used to the exercise of being dragged around the palace, and when he finally returned to the kitchen later to rest and
“No, my lord,” the girl stammered fearfully. “My eyes were itchy, ’tis all.”
“Itchy,” the king replied with a chuckle. “It’s probably the smoke. This is a smoky hall,” he said, his eyes roaming the rafters. “Some fresh air will do you well. Try not to wheeze.”
Owen watched as the king prowled around the hall, choosing victim after victim. Age did not spare anyone from his barbed wit. His words were feints and thrusts, always sharp and always ready to draw blood. This was what Owen had to look forward to every day. To be wheedled and teased by a sarcastic king who used children as his royal food tasters.
He felt a soft hand on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw Princess Elyse standing just beside him. As soon as he noticed her, she dropped her hand and chose a cube of cheese and plopped it into her mouth.
“So you went to the kitchen this morning?” she whispered, giving him a private glance. Though she stood next to him, her body was angled to face the table as if she were only there for the food.
Owen nodded, mesmerized by her presence. It was not just the beauty of her golden hair and hazel eyes. She had a peace about her, a gentleness that seemed totally devoid of any pretense. It was a look that invited Owen’s trust.
“You will be safe there,” she whispered. “Liona is loyal to my mother. I asked the king if I could be your guardian, but he refused. He thinks it’s beneath my dignity.” She frowned slightly. “I had two little brothers . . . you see,” she said, her voice suddenly thick. “You remind me of one of them. He would have been twelve.” Her fingers gently mussed his hair. “I will see you when I can, Owen. But it will not be often. Have courage.” Then she stepped away from him to talk to a set of younger girls, admiring their dresses and their hair.
Owen felt a knot of pain in his heart. He wanted to escape. He needed to find a way out.
But first he would need to know the grounds.
The palace of Kingfountain was built on a wooded hill alongside the mighty river and near the impressive waterfall. From the outside, it seemed massive—all thick walls and pointed turrets—but Owen quickly realized that it was hollow in the middle. The walls were steep and tall and enclosed an interior garden area with trees and walkways and interesting paths. One could walk around the main corridor of the castle in a giant loop, which made it seem like a never-ending fortress. But once Owen had walked it a few times with Monah Stirling, he began to learn the tricks of the place. It was after a walk with Drew that he learned about the exterior grounds. Because it was built on a hill, there was also a lower level, another series of walls and bulwarks to defend from invaders, and even lower down, a third portion that interlocked with the second set of walls. From one of the tower windows, he could see the different layers, all the way down to the horse masters breaking new stallions in the stables far below. There were yards with the royal coaches. There were towers everywhere, including the knifelike one that had caught his eye the first day.
It would take weeks for Owen to visit every hall, explore every staircase, and gaze at every tapestry. But he had an eye for details, and he quickly made little checkpoints for himself—like the suit of armor holding a poleax that led to a gallery of paintings. Or the iron-railed fountain that led to the sanctuary within the palace where he could hear the sound of lapping waters.
Monah was not used to the exercise of being dragged around the palace, and when he finally returned to the kitchen later to rest and
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