She opened her mouth, but he wasn’t done.
Talking over her, he said, “Had Prince Mars survived until his coronation, I would have served him as his chief advisor. Urging him to be a suitable king, not following in his parents’ footsteps. I believe Prince Mars, despite his shortcomings, hadthe potential to be a good ruler. He would have wanted this—a union between his sister and his most trusted advisor.”
Bryn nearly gasped aloud at his audacity.
The last thing Mars wants is for me to marry this traitor!
The rust dusted over her face and shoulders left a metallic taste in her mouth. She’d suspected this proposal was coming, and yet there had been no preparing for the bile that rose in her throat at the prospect of pretending to care for this man.
Captain Carr stared at her expectantly, her fingers still clutched in his hand, her mother’s ring in his other.
He was old enough to be her father. He’d once bragged to his soldiers about his desire to have her and Elysander on their backs for him. Every ounce of hatred in her heart belonged to him.
I will see you ruined, she promised in her head.
She smiled tightly and said aloud, “I will happily take both your hand and your guidance, Captain.”
The applause from the crowd sounded sincere enough, but Bryn noted the strongest supporters came from the nobility. Though the servants politely clapped, no joy touched their expressions.
Satisfaction simmered in Captain Carr’s eyes as he slid the ring on her finger. He pressed his lips to her knuckles. The kiss was as dry and rasping as his voice.
She swallowed her revulsion as various nobles approached to offer their congratulations. Everyone spoke of what a blessing it would be for the kingdom to have new leadership on the throne, though there was nothing new about Captain Carr in the slightest. He’d been at her parents’ side throughout their entire despotic reign.
But he could make himself useful to the nobles, and so they pretended to believe his claims.
“Let us celebrate the new tradition,” Captain Carr announced to the crowd. “May Saint Amice grace us with her warmth and bounty. Everyone, enjoy the feast!”
Captain Carr started to lead Bryn to the decorated banquet table, but she didn’t budge.
She lifted her voice to speak over the buzzing crowd. “Wait, Captain. I’d humbly like to request that notalltraditions be left behind.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly not liking her challenge but with all the watching eyes, he could hardly chastise her.
“What tradition is that, my bride?”
“The engagement gifts, of course.”
It was tradition upon any engagement that the future bride be gifted three presents by her groom. For the common folk, those gifts were often simple tokens: a jug of brandy, a sack of apples. But in the case of the royals, it could be horses or even a new castle.
Captain Carr didn’t bother to hide his derisive snort. “Ah, of course. You’re still a young girl even as crown heir. And what girl doesn’t want her engagement gifts? What shall it be then, my bride? Jewels? Was the ring not enough?”
The crowd tittered at the suggestion that Bryn was only after treasures.
She gave a guilty laugh, pretending to blush. “It’s true that I have my heart set on presents, but not jewels. For my first engagement gift, I’d like to see with my own eyes the traitor, Rangar Barendur, in chains.”
Chapter
Thirty-One
FIRST GIFT . . . unwanted congratulations . . . new traditions . . . the man in chains . . . secrets in a ring box
The condescending smile melted off Captain Carr’s face.
The crowd hushed.
Bryn kept her chin high, enjoying this brief moment of triumph at having rendered Captain Carr speechless. He’d reveled in insulting her under the guise of proposing marriage, suggesting she was a silly girl who only craved shiny baubles. Well, she would play into his farce.
“The traitor, my lady?” His rasping voice was dangerously low.
