“No need. He’ll stop for a pie from a local vendor as he rides out. Keep carting in water to refill the cistern. It won’t rain for another month, at the least, but the king plans to winter away from Kingfountain. Time to put things in order, dismiss the extra staff, and prepare to hunker down for the snows.”
Liona’s husband, Drew, coughed into his fist. “There is a stock of firewood already prepared for the winters and a few more trees to cut down, besides. We’ll be ready in case His Majesty changes his mind.”
“Good man,” Berwick said with a sniff.
“Now really, Master Berwick,” Mancini said in a whining voice.
“I dun’t wunt to hear it, man! I’ve got troubles enough of my own! An entire household to move, and only a fortnight to move it in. We thought the Assizes would happen at Kingfountain, but there’s been a change and now we all must obey. Be there before the cock crows, man. Dress warmly.”
Mancini scowled. “I’ll remember this, Berwick. Don’t think that I won’t.”
“Aye, I grant you will. Any more threats from you, and the staff will forget your feathered mattress. Or to empty your filthy chamber pot. Beware who you threaten, Mancini. Now I’m off.” He glanced at Owen, fidgeted a moment as if he wanted to say something, then nodded curtly and stalked out of the kitchen.
Drew came over and tousled the boy’s hair. “I’ll miss you, Owen. Everyone talks about you, you know, even outside the palace. The people know that you’re Fountain-blessed. It will count for something.” His look was tender and sympathetic, which made Owen worry even more about what would happen at Tatton Hall. After giving a little pat to Owen’s shoulder, Drew left the kitchen. It was late, and Liona had already concealed the tray with Ankarette’s dinner, but she stayed in the kitchen to do some final tidying.
Suddenly the noise of footsteps rushing down the hall stairs broke the quiet of the room. Evie came running in, her dark hair wild, tearstains on her pink cheeks. Her nose was dripping and she wiped it on her sleeve. It was already past time for her to be abed and he hadn’t seen her in hours. She looked frantic and worried, and the sight of her upset made Owen tremble with concern.
In moments, she was kneeling at his side and pulling him into a frantic hug, half sobbing on his shoulder.
“What happened?” Owen said, pulling back a bit to look at her face.
Her green-gray-blue eyes were filled with tears. “Grandpapa says I can’t . . . can’t come to the Assizes!” she wailed. “He’s sending me back North! Owen! This isn’t fair! I want to be there when you see your parents. I want to help give you courage when you face the king! Owen!” Her face crumpled with misery and she grabbed his hands, squeezing them so hard it hurt.
He hadn’t imagined that she wouldn’t be going with him. Dread flooded him from head to foot. This would make it all so much worse.
“Grandpapa said,” she sniffled, “that you’ll be riding with him, as you did when you came here. He doesn’t want me to see . . . not after Papa . . . Owen! What are they going to do with you?”
Owen felt tears in his own eyes. He’d never seen her so vulnerable.
“Not after Papa. I can’t lose you, not you too!” Her fingers tightened, their knuckles locking together. “We’re to be married. I thought that’s why Grandpapa brought me here. But he said . . . he said no. That the king might send your entire family over the falls.” She hung her head, sobbing uncontrollably. “It’s not fair! You didn’t betray the king at Ambion Hill. It wasn’t your fault! Owen, I couldn’t bear it! Losing Papa was hard enough. I’ve tried so hard to be brave, but I can’t lose you too! And I won’t even be there to see what happens to you! This isn’t fair!” she shrieked.
Liona had rushed over to them, and began clucking and cooing softly as she wrapped her arms around Evie’s shoulders. “There, there, my little girl. There, there. Shhhh! You must be brave. We must all be brave. Ankarette will help. You’ll see. You’re upsetting Owen, lass.”
Owen felt his own tears streaming down his cheeks. His longing for his parents had been like an underground stream in his time at the palace—an undercurrent to all his other emotions, even though he resented them for letting him go, even though he had formed attachments to other people. But seeing Evie’s grief made him feel selfish and stupid. He’d never even talked to her about her own troubles for more than a moment. And what she was saying . . . well, it was as if he and his family were suspended over the edge of a waterfall. They could go under in an instant.