She peeked back out and saw Sergeant Preston returning on foot from the castle. He said a few words to the gate guards and then addressed Bryn.
“Captain Carr is overwhelmed with relief to hear of your safe return, Lady Bryn,” he announced. “He would like to speakwith you immediately, assuming you are prepared for such a meeting.”
As much as Bryn wanted to bathe and collect her thoughts before facing him, Bryn knew it would be better to appear before Captain Carr travel-worn with dirt streaking her face to make her look even more like the captive she claimed to be.
“Of course,” she said. “I’m eager to see him.”
The gate guards motioned them through, and the carriage rolled into the courtyard. Bryn gazed up at the stone edifice as though remembering a dream. There was her bedroom window overlooking the front lawn. She’d once stood there with Rangar’s knife in her hand, watching the beginning of the siege.
Her body began to shake.Good, she thought. It would make her appear more helpless.
When the carriage rolled to a stop, a soldier opened the door and helped her out. She tried to make herself look small as she stepped through the castle’s large oak doors.
Once inside, she froze.
The castle foyer had been stripped of its beautiful tapestries, velvet-lined benches, and woven wool rugs. It was now nothing but bare stone. Scorch marks revealed a terrible truth: the former decoration must have burned in the siege. What remained couldn’t be salvaged.
It reminded Bryn that she was entering a very different place from the one she’d left.
“Captain Carr awaits you in the council chambers,” Sergeant Preston said, motioning to the stairs.
She followed him up the winding stairs, trying not to appear too shocked by the changes to her childhood home. Most of the glass windowpanes were broken and hadn’t yet been replaced. Soldiers were stationed at nearly every room.
This is no longer a home, but a fortress.
When they reached the council chambers, Bryn found Captain Carr and two advisors, Lord Tarry and Lord Gerbert, waiting around the Little Table. She paused, overtaken by a moment of revulsion. She’d never much liked the advisors, but it was Carr himself that made her stomach turn. He had always been a formidable man, considered handsome by many; but now he appeared even more gray-haired and world-weary. The mark across his neck from where he’d been garroted as a young soldier gave him a permanent angry red scar.
He locked eyes with her, taking in her dirty face and wrinkled clothes, and then made a big show of bowing.
“Lady Bryn.” His voice was as hoarse as she remembered, a result of his garroting. “Or should I say, Queen Bryn. What a terrible ordeal you must have suffered.”
Bryn gave an equally deep bow. “Captain Carr. Please, don’t call me queen. I’m not queen yet, and I don’t even know if I ever can be. I never thought such a heavy duty would fall on my shoulders. I’m just so grateful your soldiers rescued me in Ardmoor!”
Captain Carr and his advisors continued to watch her closely, and she had the uncanny sense they were looking for signs of duplicity. She knew that if she didn’t play this game correctly, they would soon realize her story was a lie and likely kill her as they had Mars.
She wiped her eyes. “Word reached me about Mars. I can’t believe my brother is gone. Did you see him in his final moments? Did he suffer greatly? Oh, I hope not.”
Captain Carr’s face was incapable of displaying authentic sympathy, but he painted it on the best he could. “It was a terrible accident, but I can assure you it happened quickly. He didn’t suffer.”
Not an accident at all, Bryn thought with a stab of rage.Murder, and at your hand.
She sniffled, and one of the advisors pulled out a handkerchief, which she accepted gratefully. “I can’t believe I’m home. I thought I’d be a captive of that barbaric family forever.”
Captain Carr raised an eyebrow. “So it’s true that the Barendur family captured you on the night of the siege and took you to Barendur Hold? I ask because your brother received several letters from them stating that you had come of your own volition.”
Bryn gaped. “Of course, they would deny it! They’re rogues! Why in the name of the Saints would I leave my home willingly? You know as well as anyone that the youngest prince, Rangar, has always believed that I belonged to him. He took advantage of the chaos in the siege to abduct me. I was alone; I couldn’t defend myself against him.”
Captain Carr said carefully, “Of course not, my lady. No one blames you for getting captured. However, I must ask: Rumors reached us that you and Rangar Barendur were romantically involved.”
Bryn bristled. Of course, Captain Carr’s spies in Barendur Hold must have reported back to him on Bryn’s activities. Had it been Broderick? She wondered what had happened to the traitor who’d killed Trei and captured Rangar. She had to stick close to the truth to echo the spy's report.
She looked away as though ashamed and whispered, “Captain, surely you do not want the lurid details of what that man made me do.”
One of the advisors made a small noise in his throat as though he was very much interested in lurid details, which made Bryn’s stomach turn even more.
“So the rumorsaren’ttrue?” Carr rasped.
Bryn kept her eyes on the floor. “Rangar Barendur is known for his violent temper. I saw him break his own brother’s nose. I dared not cross his wishes. I feared for my safety, so I hadto . . . please him.” She placed her hands over her face as she muttered, “I’m deeply ashamed of the things they made me do: Keep Rangar company. Sleep on the floor with livestock. Tend to sheep like a commoner.”
