Page 59 of Kingdom of Feathers

“What?” King Lloyd roared. “You were attacked?” His face darkened. “I knew we couldn’t trust King Basil. I’ll have that snake arrested immediately.” He turned to the guards hovering just outside the door.

Wren leaped to her feet, water splashing over the floor as she lunged across the room and grabbed her father’s arm before he could issue any commands that might plunge them into true war. Forcing him to look at her, she shook her head emphatically. Her father’s face was as hard as flint, but she dragged him back across the room, making him look at her slate as she once again wrote.

Not Basil. He wasn’t with me.

“Who then?” her father demanded furiously.

Wren gave a helpless shrug. She had no more idea of that than her father did.

“You’ve let his air of candor fool you, Wren,” her father growled. “No one’s tried to harm you in six years, and I’m supposed to think it’s coincidence that you’re attacked the moment the Entolians arrive?”

Wren scratched hastily, desperate to make him understand. Never had the glacial speed of her words been so infuriating. Her mind ran miles ahead of her hand, longing for the instant communication of verbal speech. At last she finished her message, thrusting the slate into her father’s face.

They’ve been here for a month, Father, with no sign of aggression. Basil’s had lots of chances to harm me if he’d wished. He truly doesn’t want war. Attacking your heir is the last thing he’d do.

Wren’s governess cleared her throat. “I feel bound to say, Your Majesty,” she said, not quite looking at Wren, “that two of the maids saw the incident from an upstairs window, where they were cleaning. They say that the princess was alone, and that she simply fell into the water. She seemed to struggle to stay afloat, and her pet swans helped her to the bank.” She gave a delicate cough. “I wonder if it is perhaps possible that Princess Wren is a little overwrought, and is imagining things.”

Wren scowled at her, but didn’t immediately contradict. Of course she knew she hadn’t been imagining the unnatural behavior of the weeds, but for the moment perhaps it was better for her father to believe that than to arrest Basil for her attempted murder.

“Don’t do anything irrevocable,” said Queen Liana pleadingly to her husband. “If you arrest King Basil because Wren fell into the pond when he wasn’t even with her, you’ll be the one provoking war. I’m as frightened by Wren’s accident as you are, but Lloyd…I’m so weary of the fighting.”

Her shoulders sagged at the last sentence, and Wren’s father hesitated. Taking advantage of this sign of softening, Wren hastily scribbled another message, her writing becoming sloppy in her urgency.

Listen to us, Father. I just almost died, and even I’m calling for restraint. We’re all so sick of the conflict. Can’t you at least try to give Basil the chance to demonstrate good intentions?

For once her father gave no sign of impatience as he waited for her to scratch this message out. He read it slowly, his expression still hard, but his eyes thoughtful.

“Of course I don’t wish to be hasty,” he said curtly. He paused, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Wren’s neck. “Where’s your signet ring, Wren?”

Wren’s hand flew to her throat, startled to discover the chain was gone. It hadn’t even occurred to her before now that the protective enchantment on the ring should have prevented her from being fatally attacked. But it had been no use at all when the weeds were dragging her under.

“Well?” the king pressed, a hint of anger in his voice. “Why did you take it off? You know you’re supposed to wear it at all times.”

Wren shook her head, rubbing her slate clean so she could write out a new message.

I didn’t. Must have fallen off in the water.

The king was still frowning, but some of the anger was fading from his eyes. “Perhaps it really was an accident,” he said, mostly to himself. “No one would have been able to push you into the pond while you were wearing it.”

Wren bit her lip, confused. Was it possible she really had imagined the magic? She gave her head a little shake. No. That had definitely been an attack. How had it gotten around her ring? She relived the short fall into the pond, and her flailing attempts to reach the surface. She’d always worn the ring on a long chain, so she could hide it below her gown when desired. It wasn’t hard to imagine it coming off. The enchantment didn’t prevent it being removed—it was intended to be worn snugly on a finger, where it was less likely to be dislodged.

Remembering her first reaction on falling into the water—surprise, but no real fear—Wren thought she understood why the ring hadn’t protected her from the roots. The danger of falling into the pond from that small height wasn’t great. It wasn’t life-threatening, or even likely to lead to serious injury, and it was therefore insufficient to activate the protective enchantment. The weeds that pulled her below the water would have been, but by then her ring was gone. Did the person who planned the attack know that, or did they just get lucky?

“The ring must be found, and resized for your finger.”

Wren shook her head frantically, but her father’s expression was unyielding. “I don’t want to hear any more arguments about it, Wren. I should have done it years ago.”

He cast a glance over her sodden person. “And accident or not, from now on, at least two guards must accompany you everywhere, not just when you meet with King Basil.” He frowned. “And when youarewith King Basil, it will be four guards.” He shot a meaningful look through the doorway at one of Wren’s guards, standing to attention in the corridor.

The man nodded. He would no doubt relay the order to the head of Wren’s guard, and she would never be allowed to go anywhere alone again. Her heart sank. It would make her investigation with Basil considerably more difficult. But it was better than her father openly accusing Basil of attacking her. And maybe it would discourage whoever had attacked her today from trying again.

When Wren nodded a reluctant acknowledgment, her father immediately turned and strode from the room. Wren stared after him, taken aback by his abrupt exit. Swiveling back around, she saw her mother watching her heavily.

“Can we have a moment, please?” the queen said softly, without taking her eyes off her daughter.

Everyone in the room hastened to leave, with no protest beyond a disapproving sniff from Wren’s governess. In moments, they were alone.

“Wren,” said Queen Liana, tears standing in her eyes as she clasped Wren’s hands between her own. “I was so terrified when we were summoned…” Her voice trailed off, and she took a moment to collect herself. “You will be careful, won’t you?”

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