Bryn sucked in a breath.
Elysander continued in a barely audible breath. “They put a noose around my neck. Father was already dead, slaughtered on his throne. You and Mars were both missing, and I prayed you’d made it out of the castle alive. They were out for our blood, Bryn—the common folk. They hated us even more than I’d imagined. They hung Mother first.”
She paused, holding in a sob, and once she had calmed down, said steadily, “Then they strung me up. But some of the soldiers were the ones who’d been telling me about the unrest in the country. They knew I was sympathetic to their cause, but the common folk wouldn’t have believed them—not in that moment. They were blinded by vengeance. So, the soldiers cut me down just before I suffocated, had me pretend to be dead, and smuggled me out in a coffin next to our mother’s corpse.”
Elysander ran a hand around her neck as though remembering the burn of the rope.
Bryn could barely speak. “Oh, Elysander. I had no idea.”
Her sister stared into the dirt. “Yes. So while I do not fault the Mir people for what they did, I could never find it in my heart to rule them after that—after seeing the hatred for our family in their eyes. So now Jon and I do what we can, wearing masks, so no one knows the person giving them money is the same one who they spit on while watching her twitch at the gallows.”
Now it made sense that Elysander had so readily accepted her husband’s double life in crime; a mask to her identity had to be welcome after what had happened to her. Bryn was surprised Elysander even bothered to help the Mir people at all. Many people would have simply fled to a peaceful life in Dresel, lived in luxury, and not given a thought to the past.
Elysander dug into her trouser pockets and pulled out a key on a golden chain. “You should take this.”
“What is it?” Bryn accepted the small brass key.
“It works on the gates within the secret passages of Castle Mir. Mars and I were each given keys by the soldiers who remained loyal to us. I’m never going back there, but you might, so it could come in handy one day.”
Bryn draped the necklace around her neck, where the key lay beside her wedding rings from Rangar and Trei.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
Elysander reached out to clutch her hand. “No one will think less of you if you give up the throne, Bryn. It will be extremely dangerous to try to take it back from Captain Carr.”
Bryn squeezed the key. “I can’t let a usurper rule our people.”
Worry passed over Elysander’s features. “I fear for your safety, Bryn. Can the remaining Barendur princes really keep you safe?”
“Valenden and Rangar have always helped me, but my safety is ultimately my own responsibility.”
Elysander blinked, surprised. “I never thought I’d see my baby sister turn into such a spitfire.” She paused. “Maybe you do have it in you to rule after all.”
A silence fell over them as Bryn considered her sister’s words. Like everyone else, she’d always assumed she wasn’t capable of ruling. But her body had grown strong in the Baresladen mountains, and she’d learned from the Barendur family what true leadership meant. She’d seen how a kingdom could function fairly.
Could she one day sit on the throne? Did she want to?
As the music played in the background, Bryn and Elysander switched to other subjects. Elysander told her lighter tales of life in Dresel when she was acting as a duchess, not a renegade. Bryn hoped that she’d one day make it to the southern kingdomand see Dresel’s sunny hills that bled into the sands of the Great Desert.
The sound of hooves caught their attention. The bandits stopped their music and merrymaking to turn toward the approaching riders. Valenden climbed down from a treetop platform where he’d been bathing, stripped naked to the waist, utterly shameless about showing so much skin.
Duke Dryden climbed out of one of the treetop shelters to meet with the riders. After a few moments, he came over to Bryn and Elysander.
“You too, wild prince,” he called to Valenden, using the nickname they’d given him.
Bryn stood, anxious. “The riders have news of Rangar?”
As Bryn, Elysander, and Valenden gathered around the fire, Duke Dryden said with a grim expression, “Aye. The good news is that my bandits were able to break the young prince out of Barendur Hold’s dungeon.”
Bryn pressed a hand to her chest, not expecting this happy news. “Rangar isfree?” She looked to Valenden, who looked just as tentatively hopeful.
“It’s more complicated than that, I’m afraid,” the duke continued. “My men freed him and were riding south on their way here when they were intercepted by a spy in the Baersladen loyal to Captain Carr.”
“Broderick,” Bryn muttered. “I’d swear on my mother’s name it was Broderick.”
“I don’t know, but he had Mir soldiers with him. They let my men go—not that anyone could hold my bandits for long anyway—but took Rangar prisoner.”
Bryn covered her mouth with her hand. “Rangar was taken? Where?”
