A series of rope bridges spanned from tree to tree, connecting different platforms and treehouses like this one. From what Bryn could tell, there were at least three full-sized tree cottages and a half dozen other platforms where bandits napped, kept watch, or played dice games.
“Where have you put my companion?” Bryn asked.
“Yourhusbandis there,” Jon said, pointing to a treehouse connected by a rope bridge. “He’s safe for the time being. That said, his continued safety is up to you.”
He folded his arms, glancing at the Forest King, who had remained quiet until then.
“Now,” Jon said, “Tell us how a Mir princess who was stolen away from her home by a violent Baer prince now finds herself a newlywed peasant.”
Bryn felt a flush of indignation. “Rangar isn’tviolent. And he didn’t steal me away.”
Right now, Rangar was rotting in a dungeon because of her, and he certainly didn’t deserve the reputation he had apparently acquired throughout the kingdoms as a kidnapper.
Jon and the Forest King exchanged another look before the woman nodded for him to continue questioning.
“If that is so, you’ll need to explain how you escaped the siege on Castle Mir.”
Bryn folded her arms, feeling protective of Rangar and his reputation. These criminals did not know what Rangar and his family had done for her.
She said, “On the night of the siege, Prince Rangar warned me of the impending attack. He and his brothers helped me escape. They took me to the Baersladen for my protection. I went voluntarily. They risked everything to help me. Valenden—your prisoner there in the next tree cottage—is Rangar’s brother.”
Jon raised his eyebrows. “You married the brother of the man who supposedly kidnapped you? After you first married the late Prince Trei?”
Her heart faltered as she thought of Trei. Exasperated, she said, “Valenden and I aren’t married. We’re only posing as newlyweds for safe passage.”
This prompted another unspoken exchange between the two bandits, and the Forest King nodded again.
Jon continued the interrogation. “Why would you leave your home voluntarily with princes who you didn’t know?”
Tipping her chin to face him, she said in a steely voice, “Because I believed what Rangar said about my parents. That they were tyrants. I never knew the truth before then, which was my own failing. Now that I know, I’ve sworn I’ll never let the Mir people suffer again. I married Trei Barendur to give them an honorable king. I fled to avoid assassins sent by Captain Carr. I will sit on my rightful throne, and I’ll prove I’m not the despots my parents were.”
Her speech seemed to have taken the bandits by surprise. She’d always had the reputation as the daydreaming youngest princess with her head in the clouds. But stating her case in front of these dangerous criminals made her feel powerful, and she took pride in what she’d said. They could threaten or torture her, but she wouldn’t ever run away again.
Jon turned to the Forest King and said in Mir, “Well? Heard everything you needed to?”
Bryn felt as though she was missing something between the two of them. She had expected them to laugh in her face or threaten her, but they had simply listened calmly.
“Yes,” the Forest King said and then faced Bryn. “And I think you meanourparents.”
Bryn hesitated, confused. Before she could ask what the Forest King meant, the woman untied her black bandana and let it fall to the floor.
A familiar face looked back at her.
Bryn pressed a shocked hand to her mouth. “Elysander?”
Her sister looked like an entirely different person than the pampered young woman Bryn had last seen months ago. Elysander had always been a vision of feminine grace with every hair in place, dressed in beautifully tailored gowns, her face carefully dusted with rust like their mother’s.
Now, she wore no rust or powder on her face. Her blond hair was pulled back in a simple knot at her nape that could be tucked into her cloth mask. Her clothes were baggy enough that she could easily be mistaken at a distance for a man.
But it was the defiant look in Elysander’s eyes now that truly set her apart from who she’d been before.
Elysander took a step forward. “Bryn,” she said in a softer voice, the voice Bryn knew. “Sister.”
Bryn found herself stumbling forward, head spinning, as she embraced a sister she hadn’t thought ever to see again, a sister who—if it was even possible—had been harboring even more secrets than Bryn herself.
Chapter
Twenty
