“Did they threaten you?” He cut off her words as he raked his dripping hair back. “Did they force you to do this, Bryn?” His voice broke, turning tender—his rage was aimed at his family, not her. But she could hear the real question he was dancing around: Had she willingly bound herself to his brother?
She reached out a beseeching hand as though trying to tame a beast. The crowd pressed in close, and she had to lower her voice to keep from being overheard. “Rangar, you don’t understand. Neither of us had a choice… It’s what had to happen for the safety of both kingdoms. It’s a political arrangement, that’s all. Nothing more.” She dropped her voice even lower. “I swear to you that I do not love Trei.”
This feast was supposed to appear a joyous occasion whether she felt that way or not, but Bryn couldn’t keep up appearancesforever—not when Rangar looked at her with such simmering anguish.
“So it’s true. You agreed to this.” He stared at her like he was looking at a stranger, his eyes full of suffering, yet his body still primed for a fight. “Bryn—”
Trei pushed to his feet, inserting himself between Bryn and Rangar. A line of blood trickled from his temple where Rangar’s ring had sliced the skin.
“Step back,” Trei snapped. “If you raise a hand to her—”
Rangar’s eyes blackened as he whirled on his brother. “You think I’d hurther?” Fury sprang back into his voice. “My Saved? The woman I’ve loved for years? I’d sooner rip my heart out than lay a finger on her in violence.” He threw a hard look between them. “But I suppose the two of you beat me to that.”
Ragnar lunged at Trei again, stopped only by the town’s blacksmith and one of the fishermen, who held him back.
King Aleth clapped sharply. “Enough! Guards.”
The soldiers who had moved closer now rushed in. It all happened so fast. Bryn’s head was still sluggish from brandy, trying hard to catch up.
Rangar fought with the strength of a bear, making four grown men struggle to hold him. “You are no brother of mine!” he spat at his brother. “I’ll end you for this, Trei Barendur!”
“Get him out of here,” King Aleth growled, growing red-faced. “Lock him in the tower!”
As they started to pull Rangar away, Bryn pressed her hand against her mouth, speechless. She took a hesitant step forward. “Rangar, wait—”
As the soldiers dragged him off, Rangar met her eyes, but there was nothing to say. She could only gape.It was true. What Rangar fears is true.She’d betrayed him, and she’d known this moment would come sooner or later. She hadn’t expected it to happenat her wedding. He could have stopped the ceremonybefore it happened if he’d arrived just an hour before. But it was too late now. She and Trei were married in the eyes of the Saints and Gods alike.
Breathing hard, Bryn debated running after him and begging King Aleth to let them speak for a few minutes.Appearances be damned.She couldn’t let Rangar disappear without trying to explain how heartbroken she was as well, how much she still loved him.
But then, she felt a presence at her side. “Let them take him,” Valenden hissed quietly. “He needs to cool off. He’s nothing but rage now.”
She felt her breathing starting to come too fast. Panic was setting in.
Trei grabbed her chin and tipped it up to meet his. “Bryn? Bryn, are you all right?”
She blinked, dazed, her heart thundering. “I . . . Rangar . . . ” She swallowed, then looked closer at the man she’d just married. The man who’d taken a punch to protect her, who she’d ignored so she could make Rangar feel better. “Trei, you’re bleeding!”
“It’s fine.” Trei ignored the line of blood at the side of his temple. He cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry, Bryn. For all of this. Rangar shouldn’t have been back so soon . . . someone must have gotten a message to him on the border. I fear it’s ruined your wedding day.”
In a low voice, she breathed, “Saints, Trei, I don’t care about the day. I care about . . . ” She paused, warring over how to keep the peace between both brothers. “YouandRangar.”
Distracted, Trei glanced over his shoulder toward the dais. “I must speak with my father. Val, can you . . . ”
“I’ve got her,” Valenden said.
Trei nodded and disappeared from Bryn’s side. Slowly, she became aware that the entire congregation of the great hall wasstaring at her. Their faces were full of shock except for a few kitchen maids, who were already whispering gossip.
Bryn swallowed hard.
This is very bad.
Valenden announced sharply to the onlookers, “What are you all staring at, eh? A royal wedding and a fight between brothers not enough entertainment for you?” He motioned to the musicians. “You there. Give them something to dance to. And you.” He signaled to a pair of kitchen maids. “Bring up more brandy from the kitchen.”
The musicians hesitated but took back up their instruments. The villagers didn’t immediately begin dancing again but then turned away from Bryn and spoke to one another in lower voices.
Gossiping . . . they are all gossiping about me.Yet how could she blame them after she and Trei and Rangar had given them such a show?
She felt the sting of impending tears and pressed a hand to her face. Valenden wrapped a hand around her back and led her through the crowd to the edge of the hall, and from there, to the covered walkways that flanked the courtyard.
