“Not necessarily,” Bryn said. “Everyone’s always overlooked me. Said I was the naive one, the sweet one. I can use that to my advantage. Play-act as an innocent.”
Valenden considered this but ultimately shook his head. “It isn’t enough. Not on its own. We need a public spectacle, something to corroborate your story.” Running a hand through his hair, he said, “We’ll go to Ardmoor. It’s a trading town, so there are people from all the Eyrie kingdoms there. There will be Mir soldiers loyal to Captain Carr. We’ll change your hair back to blond, then stage an escape in a public space so that everyone sees you running from me. You’ll go straight to the Mir soldiers and beg for their help.”
Bryn was instantly aware of the danger this would put Valenden into. “But what if they capture you? You could be hung for kidnapping a crown heir!”
“We’ll have to make sure they don’t catch me,” Valenden said, lifting a shoulder.
“My men can help with that,” the duke offered.
Valenden gave him a grateful nod. “Then I’ll return to the Baersladen to get help, and you’ll be taken to Castle Mir. Convince Captain Carr you’re loyal to him, even willing to marry him. While you’re there, find out all you can on Rangar’s whereabouts. Use the finding hex. When I return with reinforcements, we’ll free him with magic. Once he’s free, Rangar will be able to help us overthrow Captain Carr. He’s acaptain of the Baer army himself—he knows how to organize a siege.”
Bryn paced by the fire, looking up at the moonlight. Where was Rangar now? In a jail wagon on his way to Castle Mir? Gazing up through bars at the same stars overhead?
She squeezed his ring around her neck, feeling an intense longing to see him. Trei’s ring brushed her fingers, too, and it left her with a deep sense of loss.
Now Valenden would be at risk, too.
She had torn apart the Barendur brothers—she couldn’t let it be for nothing.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s do it.”
It wasa tearful goodbye between Bryn and her sister.
Elysander remained at the treetop encampment with most of the bandits, who intended to continue west now that Bryn had been found, robbing a few more wealthy households before putting away the camp for the winter and returning to Dresel.
With her meager supplies packed on her mare, Bryn gave her sister a tight embrace. Elysander had lost weight after the siege and was more angular than she’d ever been. It reminded Bryn that she’d never really known her sister. Elysander had only done what she had to in order to survive. And now that she’d shed that role, Elysander was free to be whoever she wanted.
Bryn hoped she might someday have that same freedom. To dress as she liked, sleep where she liked, withwhoshe liked.
“I hope this prince of yours is worth it,” Elysander whispered in her ear.
Bryn’s heart clenched as she pictured Rangar as she’d last seen him: handsome even with the scars, even with the shadows of the dungeon cast over him, his eyes on fire.
“He is.”
Elysander pulled back, running her hand over Bryn’s still-dark locks. “You must bring him to Dresel one day.” She gave a small, sad smile, but then winked. “Send us an invitation to the wedding.”
As a small group of bandits packed to prepare for the journey to Ardmoor, Valenden gave Bryn an appraising look.
“What?” she asked.
“We’ll need your hair blond again for this to work. Hold still. I’m a little rusty with the bathing spell—it doesn’t get a lot of use in my life.”
She rolled her eyes. “I bet it doesn’t.”
He touched the hexmark on his arm and then made the same motion in the air while speaking the spell. Bryn watched her locks down to her chest lighten until all traces of Roxin’s brown salve had turned to dust and crumbled to the ground. She felt relieved to look like herself again, yet also more self-conscious. Some of the bandits threw her curious looks. Other than Elysander, who wore her blonde hair tied back and covered with a bandana, they weren’t used to seeing long, fair hair.
As soon as they entered Ardmoor, everyone would start to speculate about who she was. She had to be ready.
Valenden held out his hand. “I suppose I should ask for my ring back. It was fun while it lasted to play at being newlyweds. Too bad we never found ourselves obligated to prove it to anyone . . . in the bedroom.”
Elysander gave an uncharacteristic snicker as Bryn tugged off her ring and shoved it in Valenden’s hand. “Yes, a realtragedy.”
“I like this one,” Elysander said, motioning to Valenden. “If you ever feel like setting aside your title for a few weeks, Wild Prince, you’re welcome to join our group of bandits.”
“Thanks,” Valenden said, “but I’m afraid my princely head is too accustomed to feather pillows than roots.”
Bryn rolled her eyes. Valenden had spent plenty of nights in the woods, uncomplaining—he was being self-deprecating again.
