The Queen's Poisoner

She slowly sat on the bench that separated them, resting her hands in her lap in a nonthreatening way. He thought she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

As she studied him, the little frown on her mouth smoothed into a small smile. A welcoming one. “Hello, Owen,” she said. Her voice was just loud enough for him to hear her. “Thank you for waiting for me. I am here to help you. The queen sent me.”

She sat still, waiting for him to respond, waiting to see how he would react to her presence.

Owen was not sure what he should feel. Her sense of majesty put him a little in mind of the queen herself. She was quiet, her manners very subdued, almost as if she were shy. To his relief, she neither rushed him nor pressured him to reply. She simply waited for him to gather his courage.

It took a few moments for his mouth to work. But it did, which surprised him. “Are you a ghost?”

The smile broadened, amused by his question. She had a pretty smile, with just the hint of a dimple. “No,” she answered. “Would you like me to introduce myself?”

He nodded solemnly, feeling more at ease with her quiet manners.

“My name is Ankarette Tryneowy. That’s a strange name, isn’t it? But it is my name. I am the queen’s poisoner. She sent me to help you.”

Too many people are frightened. They want youth to last. They complain bitterly if sickness comes. But the world is always in tumult, and fortunes rise and fall and fail. It is the ambitious who accomplish things. It takes courage to be ambitious, for never was anything great achieved without risk. I wish to become the head of the Espion. There—I’ve written it down. A goal not written down is merely a wish.

—Dominic Mancini, Espion of the Palace Kitchen

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Fountain

Ankarette was so quiet, so subdued, that Owen was not as frightened of her as he was of most strangers. But he was not quite sure if being a poisoner wasn’t worse than being a ghost.

“Do you have any questions?” she asked him softly.

“What is a poisoner?”

She seemed to have anticipated the question, and it did not trouble her. “Every prince in every realm has enemies, Owen. These enemies try to take away his crown. Being a prince is very dangerous business, you know.” She paused. “A poisoner’s job is to protect the ruler from his enemies. Sometimes there are dangerous men who need to be stopped. I know how to mix potions that can make someone very sick. Sometimes that is enough to stop the danger. Sometimes, I must make a potion that kills.” She glanced down at her hands in her lap. “I don’t like doing that, but sometimes it must be done.” Her voice was so soft and sad.

“You said you were the queen’s poisoner,” Owen said. “You mean the queen at Our Lady?”

“Yes.”

“Do you live in the sanctuary then?”

“No, I live here in the palace.” She pointed through the upper window to the spark in the knife-blade tower. “Up there, in that tower.”

Owen’s eyes widened. “I thought that’s where the king lived!”

She smiled again. “No. His back is crooked. It would be too difficult for him to climb the steps every day.”

She sat quietly, patiently, looking at him and waiting for more questions.

“Why don’t you serve the new king?” he asked. “I’m glad the queen sent you to help me, but she isn’t the queen anymore.”

“That’s a very good question, Owen. I will try to explain so you can understand. When King Eredur died, I was not here. He had sent me on a secret mission to another kingdom. Some terrible things happened while I was gone, and the king’s brother claimed the throne. He knew about me, but he did not know who I was. I was very loyal to his brother, not to him, you see. He sent men to try and kill me. But I killed them instead.” She paused, looking down at her hands. “He does not like me very much.”

Owen looked at her gloved hands and then at the brooch at her throat. “Does he think you are going to poison him?” he asked. He remembered that the king ate only from dishes that had already been sampled by others.

She gave him that little smile again. “You are very smart. For one so young. Yes, he is afraid I’m going to poison him. But I would never hurt children to stop him. You never need fear that, Owen. I only hurt dangerous men. You went to the queen for help. And so she asked me to help you.”

“But you can’t help me,” he said, shaking his head. “If I leave Kingfountain, my parents will be killed. I must stay here.”