Rangar is somewhere in this castle.
It ached to know he was close and yet she couldn’t go to him. Her heart constricted to think of everything he must have gone through: The terrible accusations that he’d murdered his own brother, trading out the Barendur Hold dungeon for the Castle Mir one. At least in the Baersladen, he’d been treated well while incarcerated. Here, he was nothing but an enemy. There was no telling what Captain Carr’s men had done to torture him.
She ran a bar of scented soap over her skin, wishing it was Rangar’s hands instead. When she’d agreed to marry Trei, she’d thought everything between her and Rangar would be lost. And she would do nearly anything to have saved Trei’s life, but the hard truth was that he was gone and nothing now stopped her and Rangar from being together.
Except bars.
She closed her eyes again, wetting her lips. Memories filled her head of the times she’d been with Rangar. Though they hadn’t made love, they’d come tantalizingly close. Thinking of his broad hands on her thighs made her heartbeat pick up. She dipped the soap over her thighs, sighing. Then memory turned to fantasy, and she imagined what they would do when they were finally reunited. There would time a come when they were safe—at least for a night—and nothing would hold them back. They were soulbound, each having saved the others’ life, and it meant something.
That night, she tossed and turned, frustrated to only have Rangar’s imaginary hands on her instead of his real ones. It was a cruel joke to wake in the morning alone, in her childhood bed,now under the roof of a castle her enemy controlled, having to pretend she wasn’t in love with the prisoner in the dungeon.
“Ah,Lady Bryn. I hope you don’t mind I already began eating. I wasn’t sure if you were coming.” Captain Carr stood as she entered the dining hall.
He sat alone at a table set for two. She’d slept through breakfast, so it was a midday meal of mutton and roasted vegetables. Mam Delice, the head chef, had fled to the Baersladen, so Bryn wondered who was now running the kitchen.
She forced a smile and took her seat. “I’m quite famished. I feel so much better being home, sleeping in my own bed, knowing I’m finally safe.” She paused. “All because of you.”
His eyes traced down her gown in a way that made her skin crawl. She’d wanted to wear one of her plainer dresses but had reluctantly chosen a low-cut one that would keep him distracted. A servant moved forward to ladle out some vegetables.
“Oh, please, I can do it,” Bryn said in a rush, slightly horrified to think of someone doing something for her that she could so easily do for herself.
The servant froze, and Bryn remembered that she was supposed to be playing the part of a helpless, spoiled princess.
She cleared her throat and said to Captain Carr, “I, ah, was made to do everything for myself in the Baersladen. I suppose I got used to it. It feels strange to be waited on.”
He gave her a placating smile and said in his raspy voice, “You need not attend to such trivialities here.”
She picked at her food, skin crawling to be back in this castle that should feel like home but didn’t. The smoke stains on theceiling hadn’t been painted over yet. She briefly wondered if her father’s bloodstains were still in the throne room and promptly lost her appetite.
Setting down her fork, she said carefully, “I was told your men captured Rangar Barendur.”
He raised an eyebrow, then finished eating and wiped his mouth. “I didn’t think word had gotten out about that. My men are usually more close-lipped.”
“Gossip travels fast on the road. Valenden Barendur put out feelers for word on his brother.” She paused before asking, “What did you do to Rangar? Naturally, I hope he hasn’t been too comfortable.”
Captain Carr set down his napkin and was about to speak when a soldier came in and spoke quietly in his ear.
He nodded and stood. “My lady, I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere. As it happens, it has to do with the very rogue we speak of. I’ll be sure to let him know you are safe now and no longer a prisoner of his family.”
He was going to speak with Rangar? Her heart racing, she gave a tight smile. “Yes, please let him know how pleased I am he’s behind bars. He deserves it after everything he did to me.”
The captain left, and Bryn forced down some food, knowing she wouldn’t be very useful if she were starving. The meal was under-spiced, and she missed Mam Delice fiercely. If only she could be back in the Baersladen, sitting at one of the long communal dining tables in the great hall, listening to the musicians play while the fires crackled in the hearths…
If only she could be home . . .
She nearly dropped a chunk of bread as she realized she’d thought of Barendur Hold ashome, but it was true. That remote, windswept castle was where her heart and soul felt most at rest.
She told the soldiers she wanted to see how the castle had changed after the siege and was allowed to walk around with aguard. She made note aloud of all the repairs that would need to be done to bring it back to working order, though in her head she was carefully making mental notes of where every soldier was stationed. She tried to gauge which ones looked lazy, which looked like they could be bribed. She made a point of walking by each entrance to the secret passageways, noting if they were hidden behind tapestries or blocked by armoires.
That night, back in the safety of her bedroom, she scratched a map into the underside of a dresser drawer along with notes from her observations. She squeezed Elysander’s key on the chain around her neck.
She only had to await her opportunity.
After a few days,Bryn still hadn’t settled back into Castle Mir. It was the home of a different, previous version of herself. Everywhere she looked, all she could think of was how everything had been paid for by exploiting the commoners her parents were supposed to have led. She still flinched whenever a servant catered to her. When Captain Carr wasn’t around, she made a point of doing as much as she could for herself.
She spent as much time as possible observing the soldiers’ activities under the ruse of planning repairs to the castle. Though it appeared that Captain Carr believed her story, he still insisted guards accompany her everywhere. She might not be in a dungeon, but she was just as much a prisoner as Rangar was.
One night, alone in her room, she slid off her shoes and pressed her ear to the door.
