They walked the rest of the way in silence. It felt like a small break from the storm she knew was coming. Taking back her kingdom was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done. And all the while, she’d have to do it without Rangar by her side.
Valenden’s warning echoed in her ears.
If he touches you, everyone will know.
Chapter
Eleven
FINGERPRINTS . . . damn the mage . . . "don't think about him" . . . a change of clothes
The night before the Wedding Tour came all too soon, and with it, the final night of celebration in the great hall. All Bryn could think about throughout the feast was what would come later that night. She and Trei had put off consummating the marriage as long as they could, but Mage Marna knew the truth, and she’d warned them that they couldn’t keep pretending once they left Barendur Hold. Anyone with the aura hex would see them and immediately know the marriage wasn’t valid.
Rangar had returned from his trek into the forest to fell trees for firewood.King Aleth must feel confident he won’t be so foolish as to touch me again, she thought. She forced herself to look anywhere but where he stood with other soldiers by the far fireplace, but she was all too aware of how his eyes bore into her from across the room.
“Lady Bryn,” the dressmaker said. “It’s time to change into your evening gown.”
Another ceremony, another gown. Bryn excused herself, her eyes trailing over the great hall, surprised to find that Rangar had vanished—he’d probably stepped outside to get drunk with the soldiers. Well, better he made trouble out there than inside the castle. Her guards followed her to the dressmaker's chamber, where she shut the door and closed her eyes, letting out a long breath, relieved for a few moments of solitude.
Her evening dress hung on a wooden dress form. It was the most delicate gown of all, made of loose lace. It would be the final dress she’d wear that night when going to bed with Trei. It was here, the night they had to finally consummate the marriage . . .
“Lords and ladies,” she muttered.
“How about a prince?”
She spun as her heart shot to her throat. In the single candle's light, Rangar emerged from behind the curtains. She pressed a hand to her chest.
“Rangar!” she said in a low hiss, glancing at the door. The guards were just on the other side. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think?”
She knew that look in his eyes. She whispered, “Rangar, don’t.”
He stopped an inch from her. She could feel the heat from his body. Smell the candle wax on him, and the mead. He leaned in so that his lips rested a breath from her ear. She could feel desire rolling off him like heat from a flame.
“Bryn . . . ”
She flinched away, afraid of Mage Marna’s spell. “They’ll throw you in the dungeon,” she whispered in warning, “if you lay a hand on me. It’s treason.”
His gaze fell to her lips. “I won’t touch you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m quite surelipswill leave the same black mark as fingers.”
“I won’t leave any marks,” he insisted, keeping his voice low. “I swear it.”
But he didn’t move away. He leaned closer, backing her up against the wall. His chest grazed her own, but there was the safety of clothing between them to protect them from Mage Marna’s spell.
“This is trouble,” she whispered. “The dressmaker could come in at any moment. She might keep it a secret, but the guards outside won’t.” The truth was, though, that Bryn wanted this too. She craved feeling every inch of him against her, his hands once more pressed against her scars and his lips pressed to her own.
But we can’t. It’s impossible.
Rangar fumbled in his cloak for a moment. She wasn’t certain what he was doing until he produced a pair of leather gloves that he hastily pulled on.
She rolled her eyes slightly. “I don’t know if that counts—”
“We aren’t breaking any rules,” he promised in a rushed voice. “No touch. No flesh to flesh. That’s what the spell forbids.” He ensnared her bare wrist with his gloved hand. She sucked in a breath, waiting for the telltale black marks to show, but they didn’t.
A satisfied smile cut across Rangar’s face. He pressed her back harder against the wall, his knee between her legs.
