She wouldn’t always be able to keep him away, however. Which was why she had to act fast.
That night,it was easy to get past the guards and go to the herb garden. The engagement news—along with the plentiful leftover food and wine—had lulled the entire castle into a festive, relaxed spirit. Fortunately, this included the guards. Bryn had simply told them that she needed some fresh lavender to scent her bath and wanted to pick it herself. The guards who accompanied her waited in the warmth of the vestibule, swapping gossip about the day’s events.
Bryn hadn’t spent much time in the castle’s herb garden in her youth. The garden was in an interior courtyard off a stairwell that was mostly used by servants. Her mother had encouraged her to take fresh air in the formal rose garden, a more suitable place for a young princess.
The moon was out overhead, casting cool, bluish light over the small garden. The plants had been left to bolt and reseed for the winter, and the place had a wild feel. For a moment, Brynfelt as though she was back in the Baersladen with its beautiful wilderness.
“That was quite the show you put on at the feast.”
Bryn turned at the sound of Illiana’s voice in the shadows. The herb mistress was crouched low with a wicker basket, gathering the last of the season’s mint.
Bryn settled near her, filling her basket with lavender sprigs. “You were there?”
Illiana nodded. “On and off. We were busy in the kitchen. Captain Carr wanted the banquet table buried under dishes. He hoped to dazzle you into accepting his proposal, I think. Why do men think all women want is a show of wealth?”
“It isn’t evenhiswealth,” Bryn said wryly. “It’s my family’s.”
Illiana’s mouth turned up in a half-smile. “I nearly dropped a pitcher of mulled wine when Captain Carr vomited on the floor. Everyone thought he’d just had too much to drink, but I saw you trace the purge hex in the air.”
“You told your brother about it, didn’t you? That’s how he knew.”
Illiana nodded. “Lucky for you, there weren’t many of us at the right angle to see you make the hex. And I was the only one who knew what it meant.”
Bryn glanced over her shoulder toward the doorway where the guards were talking amongst themselves. “Magic is forbidden here. How did you recognize a purge hex?”
Illiana was silent for a few moments. She finally held up a spring of mint, tracing a shape in the air with a mysterious glimmer in her eyes. “Just because it’s forbidden doesn’t mean it isn’t practiced.”
It was clear that Illiana didn’t want to say more. Whether she herself could cast spells or merely was knowledgeable about them, Bryn didn’t want to press. Not when the punishment for witchcraft could be death.
“Regardless, I’m grateful you told Christof I could be trusted.”
Illiana gave a small nod. “My brother had to leave the castle before the guards changed shifts, so he asked me to meet with you in his place. He wants you to know that visitors have arrived in Mir Town.”
Bryn clutched the lavender hard. “Visitors?”
The smell of crushed lavender rose to her nose.
“From the north,” Illiana whispered. “Prince Valenden, and he’s brought with him two dozen Baer soldiers. A few falconers and at least one mage are among them. Some of the Mir refugees who fled to the Baersladen returned with them and made the introduction to Christof. The rebels are currently hiding them in various houses in the town and nearby villages.”
Bryn wrestled with all the emotions that surfaced: Relief that Valenden had survived the incident in Ardmoor and gotten safely back to Barendur Hold. Anxiousness that he was close, just a little way beyond the castle walls. Hope that for once, fortune might be turning in her favor.
“I must speak with Prince Valenden as soon as possible,” Bryn said.
“That will be hard to arrange. We don’t dare try to smuggle him into the castle. Christof had a guard paid off, but the man was caught.”
Bryn looked up at the moon in the starless sky. “Then I’ll have to leave the castle.”
“Without guards? How?”
“I’ll tell Captain Carr I want to go to the Sunday market to look at the fabric vendors for a wedding gown. Can you get a message to Valenden to meet me there?”
Illiana nodded. “My mother has run a seamstress stall there ever since Captain Carr dismissed her from the castle. She can provide a safe place for you to meet with the prince. We’ll sayyou need privacy to try on dresses. That will keep the guards away.”
“Mam Nelle?” Bryn said, remembering her old dressmaker. “She used to make all my gowns. Yes, that will serve us—Carr will understand why I’d want her to make a wedding dress.”
Illiana nodded. “Good. Sunday, then. I’ll have it ready.”
The herb mistress started to vanish back toward the kitchen steps, but Bryn whispered, “Wait.”
