Page 41 of Water Dragon
“You wear it well,” the king stated to Iona, who looked about ready to sink through the flagstones. “She would have approved.”
Malcolm’s chest tightened at the acknowledgment of his mother’s approval of Iona as his choice for the queen. He swallowed, then cleared his throat.
“I think we should take preemptive measures,” he changed the subject.
“Oh?” the king asked.
“We can’t simply hope that no further attacks are coming our way,” Malcolm stated.
“Of course not,” the king said.
“You’ve already put some measures in place?”
“I have,” the king said. “With this binding spell, it’s clear I’m the target, is it not?”
Malcolm nodded, annoyed with himself for underestimating his father’s strategic prowess. He had ruled his kingdom for centuries—of course he would be five steps ahead of them.
“They will have some sort of binding spell ready for me as well, I’ve no doubt,” he said. “Or they’ll attempt to siphon the magic out of me, which will be nigh on impossible without a waiting vessel so I should very much like to see them try. Either way, I will put safeguards in place. I will make certain their attempts backfire.”
“How?” Malcolm asked.
“It’s better you don’t know, Mal,” the king replied, mildly regretful. “Trust me on that. Just know that, as the river flows, so does the watermagic in our blood. It is not easily dammed up or stopped, especially when it rages.”
Malcolm nodded again, hesitating before he said, “Lady Shannon appears to have been a part of the plot.”
“You wish to expose her?” the king asked.
“I’m thinking perhaps if we can intercept her, if we can make her talk, she might reveal who the mind behind this plot is.”
“None other has been able to be persuaded,” the king remarked. “Or we would have no need of the theatrics of this tournament, or of gathering together to stand together against this unknown aggressor.”
“I’m aware,” Malcolm said. “But this… It doesn’t seem like her. I have hope that perhaps she can be persuaded.”
“Why?” Iona asked, sounding truly surprised.
“I don’t know,” Malcolm admitted. “It’s just a feeling.”
Iona looked about to say something in protest but refrained, a soft furrow of her brows being the only sign that she felt there was something amiss with his ‘feeling’. He didn’t mind that she was suspicious for both of them. He didn’t even mind her calling him out on his willingness to forgive and forget. It was too much of an ingrained part of him, wanting to find the path to peace rather than stomp down the road to discontent. He knew she was aware of this and that, for all her chiding that it was sure to get him into trouble someday, she knew there was nothing to be done about it. He would always be a mitigator, even though he might be growing into also throwing the occasional punch. If the occasion called for it.
“Speak to her at the luncheon then,” the king encouraged.
“You approve?” Malcolm asked. “I know her father is an important ally and all we have is circumstantial. We cannot be sure she’s involved.”
“Do it quietly,” the king said. “If the lady has nothing to hide, she won’t be affronted by you inquiring after her loyalties. Especially if you have good reason to.”
Malcolm agreed. He shared a look with Iona, and they were about to take their leave when the king, rather suddenly, stepped forward and embraced her. He hugged her so hard that she huffed a breath, then laughed when he only tightened his hold. He let her go, tears gleaming in his eyes as he said, “You have the spirit of a queen, my lady of Lakely.”
Tears sprang into Iona’s eyes as well, and she blinked at them, an expression of relief at being so thoroughly welcomed by his father. Malcolm’s gratitude brought him to embrace the king as well.
“Thank you,” he said, the king waving him away, drying his eyes.
“Let’s find our solution and then we can properly celebrate,” the king said.
***
A handful of minutes later they were walking down the steps taking them to the doorway of the great hall, where long tables had been filled with bread, cheese and various cuts of meat. Malcolm stubbornly kept his fingers interlaced with Iona’s, even though she had tried to pull her hand out of his hold more than once. It wasn’t proper and he realized it, but given the situation they were in, he didn’t care.
He was going to hold her hand for as long as he could.
