She stopped before speaking Rangar’s name.
Mars pressed at her silence. “Why did you come back if not for the throne?”
It struck Bryn that if Mars was alive, then the crown was no longer hers. It was his by right, and yet there was a reason the refugees in the Baersladen had been relieved that it had fallen to Bryn, not Mars.
“Brother,” she started hesitantly. “I also heard rumors about you. They say that before your apparent death, you ruled the Mirien with as much severity as our parents.”
She hoped that her brother would deny the accusation—perhaps the rumors had been as false as the ones of his death. She waited to hear him fervently deny that he’d been anything like their despotic parents.
But Mars was quiet.
Eventually, he said slowly, “I wish I could say that wasn’t true.”
She recoiled, rattled. “But why? You knew how cruel our parents’ reign was to the Mir people!”
His clothing rustled as though he was sagging back against the wall. “Mouse, there’s so much you don’t know. After the siege, it was chaos here. Mother and Father were dead. You and Elysander were both missing. It was impossible for me to know which of our advisors to trust. Captain Carr led the uprising, so I thought I could put my faith in him. It was my sincere belief that he and I wanted the same things for the kingdom. He urged me that it was essential to maintain a strong hand to prevent any attacks from outside forces who might see instability as a weakness to exploit.”
“There’s a difference between a strong hand and oppression,” she said tightly.
Mars let out a long sigh. “Yes. I see that now, whether you believe me or not. My grip on the kingdom was slipping. I sided with the rebels, but their demands were getting out of control. They would have bankrupted the entire kingdom. I didn’t know what else to do but fall back on my political training. I only meant to reassert my leadership, but it got out of hand.”
Bryn listened closely, not yet convinced.
Mars emphasized, “I was wrong. I know that now. Illiana—she was the one who explained to me just how wrong I was. I credit her with showing me the correct way forward.”
Ah, there it was—the note of truth in his voice she’d been waiting for.
“I believe you,” Bryn whispered.
His hand closed over hers. For a moment, they remained like that, their shared strength flowing from one to another. Then, Mars sighed again.
“Now I just have to convince the entire kingdom to believe me.”
A groan of hinges came from the end of the corridor. Bryn sucked in a breath, reaching automatically for the brick, but Mars stilled her hand.
“It’s all right,” he calmed her.
In another few moments, someone shuffled toward them. Bryn smelled a trace of rosemary.
Mars’s voice was velvety with affection when he said, “Bryn, this is Illiana.”
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
THE HERB MISTRESS . . . one key and three rings . . . spark of new love . . . reinforcements . . . a new plan
A light flickered in the dark passageway. Illiana struck a match and lit the gas lamp she’d brought with her, holding it up to her face.
It was one of the maids Bryn had seen in the kitchen. The raven-haired young woman kneading dough with the older kitchen workers. Up close, she was even more beautiful than Bryn had first thought. Lush lips and dark, velvet-brown eyes. The way Mars looked at her made it clear their relationship wasn’t limited to an herb mistress risking her life to help a disgraced prince.
He loves her,Bryn realized.
Bryn studied her brother closer now that there was some light. A strip of black linen covered his eyes. He looked shockingly gaunt, a shell of his former self. But there was resolve in the way he held himself—this wasn’t a man about to give up.
“Illiana,” Mars said. “I’d like for you to meet my sister. We have nothing to fear from her. Bryn is on our side.”
Illiana regarded Bryn with clear suspicion, though unless Bryn was mistaken, there was also a touch of empathy. “Lady Bryn,” the woman said softly. “If you’ll excuse my boldness, I was under the impression you’d returned to Castle Mir to take your parents’ place.”
