“Well,” she said, blushing, “I truly want to know.”
Still looking off-kilter, Trei thought a moment. “I’ve always understood my duty as heir to the Baer throne. I had indeed hoped Saraj could be my queen, but perhaps it wasn't reasonable of me to believe I could have a match that was both politically advantageousandromantic. I shouldn’t have let myself hope.” He straightened suddenly as though he’d misspoke. “Please, don’t think that I am not pleased by our union—”
“It’s all right, Trei,” Bryn said softly. “You don’t have to pretend with me. Please don’t feel obliged to act like you’re happy about this. I know you’re in love with Saraj. You never need to worry about offending me or making me feel better about that for the sake of propriety. I think if we’re going to truly be wed and spend our lives with one another, we must dismiss formality. You love Saraj. I love Rangar. Yet you and I are also friendly . . . let us start from there.”
He crossed his arms over his bare chest, looking at her with an odd expression, and then nodded. “We start as friends.”
Friends who are going to make love tomorrow night.Bryn couldn’t help but think the scandalous thought and quickly turned away before her face betrayed the thoughts in her head.
She bobbed her head, not meeting his eyes for fear of blushing all over again. “Good. I suppose, then, I’ll see you . . . tomorrow.”
At our wedding.
As she started for the door, he called, “Wait, Bryn.”
When she turned back around, he took something out of his pocket. It was a delicate gold chain necklace.
He explained with some hesitation, “This belonged to my mother before she passed away. I had meant to give it to youtomorrow, but perhaps now is better, outside of all the formality. I thought you might put the ring Rangar gave you on it and keep it around your neck. I know this is hard for you. I don’t want you to feel like you must deny what you felt for him.”
Bryn’s hand instantly went to the ring around her finger, the one Rangar had given her as an engagement ring with the imprinted maiden rose petal. She still hadn’t been able to bring herself to take it off even though she was betrothed to another.
Now, taking a deep breath, she twisted the ring off her finger and strung it on the delicate chain, then fastened it around her neck. It hung just below her dress collar, nestled between her breasts, low enough for only her and Trei to know it was there.
She touched the ring gently. “Thank you, Trei.”
Slowly, he took her hand in his as though testing out the feel of it. A flush of warmth spread up Bryn’s arm. He ran his thumb over her palm as he said, “My father, my aunt . . . they know I’ll do my duty. And yet you came to see if I was all right.” His thumb paused in the center of her palm as his green eyes considered her. “I can see why Rangar fell in love with you.”
Feeling suddenly shy, Bryn nodded. She opened the door to let Helna return, who gave her a curious look. The older woman’s eyes instantly went to the visible portion of the chain around her neck, but Helna said nothing.
Mind spinning from their talk, Bryn escaped to the kitchen, hoping that the perpetual bustle there would ease the emotions tangled in her chest. As she entered the smokey kitchen, she touched Rangar’s ring between her breasts, relieved to have it close.
The kitchen was crowded with villagers who’d come to help prepare for the wedding feast. Sweaty-faced girls stirred pots of boiling stew while boys turned a spit over the massive fireplace. The air smelled richly of roasting meats and sweet, honeyed fruits.
Bryn relaxed slightly, distracted by the activity. She spotted a friendly face and grinned. “Roxin!”
The stout kitchen maid looked up from a table laden with baskets full of figs and smiled back. “Lady Bryn! By the gods, I’m going to have to say Queen Bryn soon, eh? Why aren’t you upstairs getting pampered and fitted for a gown instead of down here with the likes of us?”
“I thought I could lend a hand,” Bryn said, hoping it wasn’t obvious how desperately she needed a distraction.
Roxin guffawed. “A future queen plucking chickens? Well, why not? Or better yet, you can help with the brandy. See these figs? Take that paring knife there, cut off the stems, and then throw them in the iron pot.” Roxin tossed her an apron.
A few maids moved aside to make room for Bryn at the big worktable. She put on her apron and started preparing the figs, all too aware of the younger girls staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at her. She tried to ignore their attention, but it was useless.
“You’re going to marry Prince Trei!” one of them cried in wonder.
Bryn forced a smile that she hoped looked happy. “That’s right.” A pain stabbed her in the belly, thinking of how wrong it felt.
“He’s very handsome,” another girl said, and they all started giggling.
Roxin chided them and waved them away with a dishrag, then called over a few sturdier chefs to help with the heavy iron pot. “Lady Bryn, best you take a step back now, too. Time for us to finish the brandy.”
At first, Bryn felt confused. She saw no fruit press or distillery equipment, but then she recalled that Roxin had a unique hexmark that allowed her to ferment fruit with magic. Bryn went to stand by the kitchen’s narrow window as a dozenof the kitchen maids joined Roxin around the table. They joined hands and bowed their heads. Then, in a low whisper, they began reciting a spell. The iron pot full of fresh figs began to rumble slightly. A sickly-sweet smell filled the air. Bryn stared in wonder as the fruits started to break down into syrup. One of the girls poured in a pot of boiling water while another stirred. The women continued to chant as Roxin touched her hexmark and traced the hex shape in the air. Finally, the women lowered their hands and stopped chanting.
Roxin stepped forward with a ladle. She dipped it into the iron pot, blew on the syrup to cool it, and took a sip. She grinned widely in triumph. “Try it.”
Bryn carefully accepted the ladle and took a small sip. The brew was scalding, hot but the flavor was delicious and complex, and it instantly warmed her stomach.
“That’s incredible,” she breathed.
