“With luck, I won’t need a wedding gown at all,” she muttered. “I certainly have no intention of ever marrying Captain Carr. But you’d better make one in case he gets suspicious.”
“Consider it done. I’ll tell Illiana to meet you tonight in the passages.”
Bryn nodded.
Valenden rested a hand on her arm. “I’ll let Saraj and the others from the Baersladen know what we’ve discussed. We’ll beat the hanging, disguised as Mir common folk, with weapons at the ready should anything not go according to plan.”
“Thanks, Val.” She squeezed his hand, then nudged him toward the stall’s rolls of fabric. “You’d best go wrap yourself up in velvet and hide again.”
As Bryn and Mam Nelle left the tent, pretending to chatter excitedly about the wedding dress, Sergeant Preston seemed annoyed.
“We should head back to the castle, my lady. Captain Carr didn’t want you gone this long.”
“Of course. We mustn’t keep the captain waiting.”
She bid farewell to Mam Nelle, slipping her hand a squeeze, before climbing into her carriage.
As they returned to Castle Mir, Bryn watched out the window for a glimpse of Mir Town square. When they passed it, she tried to imagine what it would look like in another week with a gallows constructed. Was their plan a foolish one? Risking Rangar’s life with dangerous magic? Was she even truly capable of performing a death slumber hex?
Tonight, she would find out—if her brother was a willing victim.
The restof the day was heavy with tension. Captain Carr was in a foul mood after learning the soldier who’d accepted the rebels’ bribe had died during interrogation before revealing the rebels’ names. It made for a sullen supper between the two of them. Bryn tried to prattle on about the wedding dress, but Captain Carr only grunted in response.
If he was truly ever my husband, Bryn thought to herself,I think I’d hangmyself.
She finished her meal as quickly as she could.
Captain Carr raised his eyebrow as she stood. “Retiring so soon? One would almost think you didn’t wish to spend time with your fiancé.”
She hesitated. “I’m sure you’ll want to spend the evening with your advisors. I’d hate to be a distraction from all this nasty business with the rebels.”
He leveled her a dark look over his wine glass. “Perhaps a distraction is exactly what I’m in need of.”
Bryn’s stomach tightened. Captain Carr had never requested to spend time with her after supper before, so she’d assumed it was safe to sneak off to the secret passages to meet with Mars and Illiana.
“Oh. Well, I thought I would have Lisbeth wash my hair this evening, and it does take a while to bring up heated bath water . . . ”
“Nonsense. Your hair is fine.” He stood up, draining his wine. “Come walk with me in the courtyard.”
Bryn knew she couldn’t decline without raising his suspicions. What if Sergeant Preston had told him about the abnormally long time she’d spent in the seamstress’s tent?
He extended his hand. She swallowed hard before taking it. She forced a smile. “I’d be delighted.”
Two soldiers trailed behind them as they made their way through the castle hallways. Bryn shivered, though it wasn’t yet cold enough to need a cloak. The castle felt empty and lifeless since she’d returned. With most of the staff dismissed and replaced by soldiers, she felt more like she was living in an army barracks than a home that used to be filled with laughter, warm chatter, and delicious smells.
They crossed the ballroom toward the balcony that led to the remembrance garden. It wasn’t but months ago that she’d been here on the First Night of the Low Sun Gathering, shocked tofind that Rangar Barendur and his brothers had dared to return to the Mirien. She and Rangar had conspired together there, behind that tapestry. They had danced next to that now-cold hearth. He had first spoken Mir to her on this balcony . . .
Captain Carr held the door open for her, and she stepped out, clutching her arms across her chest as she shivered.
“Shall I lend you my jacket?” he asked.
Bryn flinched.
Tonight, it is cold. Take my coat.It was like Rangar’s ghost was here, offering her his bearskin cloak as he had that First Night.
“No, thank you,” she answered now.
They descended the stairs to the remembrance garden, with its rosebushes that had become overgrown since most of the gardening staff was dismissed.
