Bryn cleared her throat. “Perhaps you overindulged, Captain? It was quite an extravagant feast.”
Pale-faced, he gave a shaky nod. “Yes, I believe the princess is right.”
Still, he extended Rangar a suspicious look as though the prince had somehow cursed him even chained and all the way across the room.
A flicker of amusement danced in Rangar’s eyes.
“Take the prisoner back to the dungeon,” Captain Carr snapped, motioning toward Rangar. The sharp movement made him double over again.
“Captain, you must rest,” Bryn said with false concern. She turned to the guards. “Be so good as to take him to his room. I fear the feast is too much for a man of hisadvancedage.”
She knew it was dangerous to barb her words, but she couldn’t resist. Fortunately, Captain Carr was too distracted to pick up on the insult.
He swatted away the guards’ hands, grumbling, but nodded. “My lady, if you’ll excuse me . . . ”
“Of course. Oh, and thank you for my engagement gift. It’s exactly what I wanted.”
She smiled tightly.
As soon as Captain Carr was gone, Bryn took her time looking over the crowd still gathered for Saint Amice’s Day festivities and all the plentiful food on the banquet table. Her eyes fell on a basket of roasting sticks shoved in a corner that a servant must have brought before Captain Carr decided to change the day’s traditions.
“Lords and ladies,” she announced. “Let us not forget the spirit of the day. Saint Amice’s Day is the time we put aside rank and join together as Mir people. I invite the servants to partake in this feast.”
None of the servants made a move toward the table. They all shuffled anxiously, passing each other uncomfortable glances.
“I insist,” Bryn urged. “We are all citizens of the Mirien, and I would not have only those with a noble title celebrate my engagement.”
The nobles had gone quiet, clearly disgruntled at this news. Most of the servants still made no move join in until Bryn picked up the tray of orange biscuits and circled the hall, passing them out to the common folk.
She was quite sure her mother had never served a maid a biscuit even on Saint Amice’s Day. The shock of a princess distributing offerings broke some of the tension, and the younger maids nibbled on their biscuits with smiles. The older servants hesitantly puttered around the table, picking at grapes and figs.
The nobles didn’t seem pleased, but they went back to socializing amongst themselves, unwilling to publicly question a queen’s actions.
After she handed out the biscuits, Bryn returned to her place at the head of the table, wondering when Rangar would be able to safely read her note, when a young man came to clear away Captain Carr’s plates.
In a low voice, the servant muttered, “Illiana said to look for a sign—she didn’t say it would be ahex.”
Bryn looked up in surprise to find herself facing Christof Joster, Illiana’s brother, the rebel who had shot an arrow at her in the Saint’s Forest. He was disguised as a servant, and she’d had no idea how he’d managed to get inside the castle’s well-guarded perimeter.
Bryn whispered, “I wasn’t about to let that wrinkled old goat kiss me.”
Christof hid a quick smile. He glanced surreptitiously at the crowd. “I never would have believed the daughter of King Deothanial and Queen Helena would bring magic into Castle Mir.”
“It was a risk,” she admitted. “But I see that it had a positive result. Do you believe me now that I have no loyalty to the old ways?”
Christof maintained his skepticism. “Illiana claims your brother has changed his ways, so I accept it’s possible you might have as well, but that production of yours with the chained prince—”
“I had to get close enough to Rangar to slip him a message.”
“The slap seemed very convincing.”
“Good. Then I’m a decent actress after all.” She raised a wry eyebrow. “Trust me, I’ve wanted to slap Rangar a time or two, but that time was only for show.”
Christof eyed her closely, trying to gauge if she was to be trusted. He finally whispered, “Meet Illiana in the herb garden tonight.”
Bryn nodded.
Christof carried the plates away, leaving her alone with her heart thrashing. Before she had known that Captain Carr planned a proposal for Saint Amice’s Day, she had intended to quietly use magic to light a dough ball on fire when only the servants were around as the “sign” of her loyalty to the rebels. But the purge spell had served the dual purpose of keeping Captain Carr far away from her.
