FORTY-EIGHT
He'd bathed, he'd changed, he'd eaten...yet Xylander felt there was something else he needed to do. He wasn't satisfied with the knight's story. And Guinevere...something about the way she'd stood there, saying she wanted to stay, reminded him of the girl she'd been before their mother died, and Father went mad. But she was so much more than that girl now. She'd looked like the kingdom's rightful queen, not Zurine.
Yet when she'd spoken, it had been about birds.
Circe had been the name of Mother's gyrfalcon, he remembered now. The bird had terrified him, after it had nipped his finger, but Guinevere had wanted to take Circe hunting. Mother had promised she might, when she was old enough, but then Mother had fallen ill and all her promises had died with her.
Perhaps the bir
