“Thesearereal bandits, sweetheart. Your sister and her husband are rogues.”
“Only sometimes,” Bryn objected. “For most of the year, they’re the highly regarded duke and duchess of Dryden Hall.”
“Right.” Valenden scanned the camp. “Now, I need more ale.”
While he went to hunt up another drink, some of the bandits brought out instruments and began playing a Dresel song. Several of the female bandits had taken their hair down and were flirting with the men, dancing and swapping stories. Bryn noticed a few couples pairing off and sneaking into the treetop platforms.
She warmed herself by the fire, deeply grateful to have her sister back in her life and to know that Elysander was not onlywell but loved. She leaned her head on Valenden’s shoulder as her thoughts turned to Rangar.
If only she could share this good food and drink with Rangar. If only it wereRangarshe was leaning against, not his brother.
But she told herself that tonight it was enough that she and Valenden were safe and reunited with her sister. Tomorrow, she would face harder choices. Tomorrow, she would persevere.
Tonight, she would drink ale and laugh with her sister.
Chapter
Twenty-One
FORK IN THE ROAD . . . a team of riders . . . a toast to Mars . . . hangmen and coffins . . . the brass key
The following day, Duke Dryden sent a team of riders on Valenden and Bryn’s horses north to see what they could discover about Rangar’s situation; in the meantime, Elysander invited them to stay at the forest encampment until they received word back.
Bryn was relieved to be off the road and didn’t mind the knots in her neck from sleeping on a platform fifteen feet in the air. She was fascinated to watch her sister in action as the Forest King.
Now, Bryn understood what Elysander had actually been doing all those years when it seemed she was training to be the perfect princess and daughter. Elysander had been showing one picture to their parents: a dutiful, beautiful, loyal daughter. But in reality, she’d been learning everything she could about the real situation in the Mirien. Studying hard to understand where their parents had failed and how she might one day do better.She’d perfected the role of a royal lady to please Duke Dryden because it had been her only chance of escaping the Mirien with her head attached to her shoulders.
It had been sheer luck that she actuallylovedher betrothed.
Living this double life—Forest King and duchess—was easy for Elysander, Bryn realized, because she’d already been living a double life for years.
Over the next few days, Bryn was able to have long talks with her sister, marveling as she got to know this new side of Elysander, but there was one thing Bryn still wondered about. She broached the subject one night over ale.
“Something’s been bothering me, sister. If Mars knew about our parents’ poor leadership, then why did he follow in their footsteps when he took over the crown? He increased taxes and the armed presence in the villages.”
Elysander set her drink in her lap, looking troubled. “That same question has haunted me, too. It wasn’t what I expected of him. All I can guess is that Captain Carr must have been feeding him lies.” She sighed. “I don’t know. It doesn’t fit with the brother I knew, who could be quick-tempered and prideful but wasn’t a tyrant.”
It comforted Bryn that someone else had seen her brother for the good person she remembered. In the Baersladen, everyone had been quick to condemn Mars, and she could hardly blame them: her brother’s actions had clearly indicated tyranny.
But they hadn’t known him as she had.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore,” Elysander said mournfully. “We’ll never know what was going through his head.”
Bryn felt the familiar pain of his loss. There had been too much death these past few months. Her heart felt broken and mended over and over, and she wasn’t sure how much more breaking it could take.
Bryn raised her drink. “To Mars.”
“To Mars.”
They poured out a small amount of ale on the dirt and then drank deeply. Then, Elysander shifted, resting her elbow on one knee. “So what will you do now as crown heir?”
Bryn took her time in answering. “Well, the plan was for Trei to rule. I wish you’d known him—he was beloved by everyone in his kingdom. He was wise, kind. He would have been the ruler the Mirien needed. Since he’s gone…” Her voice broke and she had to pause. “I don’t know what will happen now. Valenden hopes the Hytooths in the Wollin will help me uphold my claim to the Mir throne.” She took another long sip of her drink before confessing, “I love my kingdom, but we both know I’m not prepared to be queen. Won’t you take the crown?”
Elysander barked a laugh. “Me? A bandit?” She turned serious. “No, Bryn, I wouldn’t even if the laws allowed it, which they don’t. I’m already married. My claim to the throne was relinquished when I wed. Jon and I are trying to help the Mir people by, ah,redistributingwealth to the common folk, but that’s as far as I wish to be involved. Perhaps months ago, I would have considered taking the throne. But not after the siege.”
Bryn cocked her head, curious. Memories flooded her of that awful night when the castle filled with smoke. She had climbed from her window into Elysander’s room only to find blood everywhere and her sister gone. “What happened to you that night?”
Elysander’s face turned grim. “The soldiers outside our rooms that night weren’t soldiers. They were Mir commoners wearing the armor of soldiers they’d killed. They dragged me out of my room at knifepoint. I tried to get away, but one stabbed me.” She pulled back her shirt collar to reveal a scar on her shoulder. “They took me to gallows they had set up in the frontof the castle. Hundreds of our people had come to watch. Mother was there . . . ”
