Valenden kicked a rock. “Ho, we could walk for months and still not get through all the trouble we got into. Trei, being the eldest, never wanted to see Rangar and me misbehaving, but he was quite fond of pranks himself. He used to leave rotting fish in our sheets to make us think we’d caught some reeking disease. Once, he poured out my flask of mead and replaced it with castor oil. I spit it all out on a girl I liked.”
Bryn chuckled, enjoying hearing this other side of Trei, though it also filled her with sorrow. “Tell me more.”
“Well, there was a time when Rangar and I wanted the same horse, an unbroken stallion. My father said whoever could tame it could keep it. Little did I know, Rangar had rubbed crushed chili pepper in its nostrils when it was my turn to break it. I ended up snapping my collarbone when it threw me.”
“No!” Bryn said.
Valenden nodded. “And then Rangar rubbed soothing lotion on the horse’s nose and climbed on top like it was tame as a lamb. He had that horse for years, used to flaunt it in front of me.”
She grinned.
Valenden glanced back at her slyly. “I already told you about the time we snuck away from our meeting with one of the forest princes to go to the Mirien for the Harvest Gathering. Our father never found out about that little escapade. He would have skinned us raw. But it was hardly the only time we went somewhere we weren’t supposed to. I recall a time we were supposed to be on a training expedition with the former captain of the Baer army, but we bribed him and spent a few days on the docks in Wentwest.” He grinned at the memory. “Trei spent all his money on dice games. I ended up besotted by some boy who turned out to be a thief and stole everything I had, even my clothes. But Rangar chased him down and not only got my clothes back but took the boy’s as well.”
Bryn dragged her head back and forth in wonder. “Your childhood was . . . very different from mine. I wasn’t allowed to leave the castle unless I was with my parents. Though when we were young, I remember playing hide-and-seek in Castle Mir’s secret passages with my siblings. That was as adventurous as we ever got.” She sighed. “My brother and sister and I grew apart as we got older. Mars was always very protective of me, but he was seldom around. Always off training with the army or studying.”
“And your sister?”
“Elysander thought I was too much of a daydreamer. She tried to get me interested in dancing and singing, but it never caught my fancy. She lost interest in me eventually and spent more time with other court girls.”
They continued swapping stories of their youth as they made their way past other villages, and then Valenden helped Bryn practice the purge spell hand gestures until she felt confident she captured the urgent spirit of the spell in her movements.
“Back in Castle Mir,” she recalled, “I asked Rangar about getting the hex to spark a fire. He said it was too advanced.”
“Bah, it isn’t in the slightest. He only said that because he needed you to learn the purge spell instead so you could save his life. I can give it to you—I’m no mage, but it’s only a small cut on the shoulder blade, and I’ve done it before. Some of my fellow soldiers and I gave it to each other during training as part of a hazing. Mage Marna was furious—she likes for her and her apprentices to be the only ones carving hexmarks. Anyway, the wording isn’t complicated, though you do have to take care with the pronunciation. It sounds similar to the spell for making someone sneeze.”
Her eyes lit up. “Yes, please, Val.”
“Tonight, then.”
By the time the sun was setting, they finally reached Othwall. Valenden went to ask about horses and got a lead on two, though the farmer wouldn’t be able to meet with them until the morning.
“There’s an inn a few blocks that way,” Valenden said, hefting his bag. “We’ll spend the night there.”
Bryn wrung her hands and kept her head low as they entered the inn, a two-story building with a tavern attached. An elderly woman came out to greet them, her eyes immediately going to the wedding rings on their finger. As soon as she noted they were married and not a single man and woman scandalously traveling together, she smiled warmly.
“How can I help you two lovebirds?”
Valenden must have also noted how fixated she was on their marital status, so he grabbed Bryn’s hand. “My wife and I need a room for tonight.”
The innkeeper beamed as she dug around for a key. “So young! Oh, I love new love.”
Valenden threw Bryn a devilish smirk. “Yes, we married just three days ago in Moranton. I’m bringing my bride home to the Wollin. We’d like the most private room you have . . . ” Hewiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “You understand . . . only three days married.”
The woman turned slightly pink, and Bryn felt certain she herself was blushing, too. But the innkeeper merely chuckled and handed Valenden a key. “Upstairs, the last room on the right. It’s our nicest, and it’s furthest from the other guests.” She pressed her lips together coyly. “Sleep well tonight . . . if you sleep at all.”
Bryn thought she might combust and burn alive from embarrassment, but Valenden wrapped an arm around her back, pressing a kiss to her temple. Though she was shrieking inside, she pinned a stiff smile on her face.
As soon as they were settled in the room, which was barely larger than a closet with a tiny bed, Bryn smacked Valenden on the shoulder. “You didn’t have to ham it upthatmuch.”
“We had to be convincing!”
“‘Your most private room’?” she challenged.
“Yes, so that the other patrons don’t overhear us talking about how you’re the secret heir to two of the Eyrie’s wealthiest kingdoms.” He rolled his eyes. “You should thank me.”
She scoffed again, but she was too tired to argue. “Well, you can make it up to me by fetching some water so I can wash off this dirt from the road.”
Now it was Valenden’s turn to roll his eyes. Of the three brothers, he was the least likely to step in and help someone in need, especially if it meant participating in hard work. But he didn’t complain as he grabbed the empty water jug and carried it downstairs.
