“I’ll accompany her,” Trei offered.
“No. That won’t do.” King Aleth shook his head. “Bryn is Mir. It has to come directly from her.Shemust have earned their trust, not a foreign prince.”
“He’s right,” Bryn agreed. “I’ll speak with their leader.” As soon as it looked like Trei and Valenden were both about to object again, she raised a calming hand. “I’ll be sure to take my guards.”
That seemed to appease the brothers. When the meeting was dismissed, Valenden walked with her, insisting on accompanying her into the village square. Before they left the castle, she found herself peeking into every room and then once outside, down every lane.
“Something tells me you aren’t looking for a misplaced hat,” Valenden observed.
She stopped, glanced at the guards trailing ten paces behind them, and whispered, “Where is Rangar? I haven’t seen him in days.”
Valenden matched her tone. “Our father sent him out with a team of woodsmen to camp for a few days in the forest to help fell some trees. Barendur Hold needs a large store of firewood for winter.”
“Oh.” Her relief at Rangar’s safety was met with disappointment. “Well, I’m glad Mage Marna didn’t murder him.”
“No,” Valenden said slowly, “But shedidensure he won’t touch you again.”
Bryn spun on him. “What do you mean?”
Valenden kicked a clod of dirt as he glanced over his shoulder at the distant guards. “Since posting guards on the both of you didn’t work, and Rangar doesn’t care about the law, she used magic. She placed a spell on him so that if he physically lays as much as one finger on you, it will leave black marks wherever he touches. Your lips, your face, your arms,other places. Marks that can’t be washed off with any amount of soap or scrubbing.”
Bryn gaped. “A spell can do that?”
Valenden nodded. “If he touches you, everyone will know. He’ll literally leave fingerprints behind. She’s assured him that if she sees those marks on you, he’ll go straight to the dungeon for treason.”
Bryn grumbled, “Lords and ladies . . . what a mess.”
“If I was you, I’d do my best to stay away from Rangar. Don’t tempt him because only he will suffer. They won’t throwyouin the dungeon. They need you too much.”
They fell silent as they neared the dock. Alain and a handful of the Mir refugees had begun to help bring in the fish off the boats, and Alain was now practically buried under still-writhing fish and sea creatures laid out on the shore.
“Princess Bryn.” Alain nodded before motioning to the fish. “This might not be the best place for a lady.”
“I can assure you, I’ve seen worse,” she said, trying not to wince at the smell. “I was hoping to speak with you about a strategy for a return to the Mirien.”
Alain eyed her carefully as he pulled off his thick work gloves. If she was being honest, Alain had always frightened her a little. He was a large man with a thick beard that threatened to swallow his entire face. He picked up a still-flopping fish with his bare hands and slit its throat, tossing it back onto the pile.
Bryn flinched. An image of her father slumped on his throne, throat slashed, entered her mind. She’d never discovered the murderer’s identity, but it was likely to have been one of the uprising leaders.Someone like Alain—if not Alain himself.
She forced her chin high as she explained their plan. “But it will only work if we are confident the Mir populace will embrace Trei and me as legitimate rulers. The Barendur army can stand against Captain Carr’s small forces, but not the entire populace.”
Alain leaned on a shovel, stroking his beard. “So you want me to ride into the Mirien at your side and vouch for you, is that it?”
She gave a single nod and spoke plainly. “Yes.”
Alain glanced at the other Mir refugees working on the docks and said, “I’ll need to discuss this with the others. Have you already spoken with Mam Delice?”
“I don’t need to. She’s known my intentions as long as she’s known me.”
Valenden added, “We’ll need to know if we have your support or not by the end of the week. Lady Bryn and my brother are leaving for their Wedding Tour, and when they return, it will be time to move on Captain Carr.”
“You’ll have my answer before then,” Alain vowed.
They parted ways with Alain’s promise to speak with the others. Bryn felt hopeful but not entirely convinced. As she as Valenden walked along the shore, listening to the waves, she asked, “Do you think there’s a chance Alain is the spy?”
Valenden made a doubting face. “If he is, it’s almost too obvious. The primary leader of the uprising. A beast of a man.” He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s him.”
She sighed. “That narrows it down to . . . everyone else.” With nearly forty refugees, it was too many for the Baer forces to keep an eye on.
