Bryn feigned more faintness as an excuse to stay away from Captain Carr. On the occasions when he came to visit her in her room, she made sure Lisbeth remained present and coughed so voraciously that she hoped she’d seem unappealing. Still, it didn’t stop the captain from making every excuse to touch her:feeling her forehead for a fever, adjusting a wrinkle in her blouse over her breast, brushing a crumb off her lips.
Every time he touched her, she burned with fury.
On the night of the full moon, her nerves were frayed when the procession to Saint Serrel’s shrine was ready to leave. Besides their carriage, Captain Carr had assured her that most of Castle Mir’s soldiers would accompany them in front and behind for protection. She dressed in a simple, dark green gown with no train, reasoning that it would be easier to flee into the woods in such a gown if anything were to go wrong. Though she wore Captain Carr’s ring on her finger, she dared to drape her chain with Valenden and Trei’s rings between her breasts.
Soon, she would add Rangar’s to it again.
In the courtyard, soldiers on foot and horseback were already in formation as they waited for the carriage to drive up. Captain Carr dropped a hand around her waist. He gave a possessive squeeze. “Feeling better, I hope?”
“A bit, yes. The prospect of the procession has cheered me.”
She shifted, trying to move away from his hand, but at that moment, Sergeant Preston appeared steering the carriage. It was the close-topped carriage they had used for her trips into Mir Town.
Oh no,she thought in dread. Rangar and the rebels had made their attack plans anticipating an open-top carriage.
Bryn’s spine went rigid. “I, ah, I’d hoped for an open carriage to see the moon on our drive.”
Captain Carr waved away her concern. “It’s safer this way, my lady. We don’t want another incident with the arrows.”
She pressed her lips together tightly. That wasexactlywhat she wanted.
“Besides,” he added off-hand, “It looks like it will rain.”
It was true that dark clouds were rolling in from the south, but for now, only broken clouds shaded the moon.
The carriage stopped in the courtyard’s center, and Captain Carr helped Bryn into it. She settled onto the center of the bench seat, hoping the captain would sit opposite her, but he stared at her hard until she scooted aside to make room for him.
His weight settled next to hers, the bench seat groaning.
“Go,” he called to the driver outside. She heard the soldiers ahead of and behind them call commands to one another, and the procession began.
The windows were open, and Bryn could feel the fresh night air on her face. She watched the forest roll by outside, its trails and glens so familiar to her, though at night everything looked different. With the bright moon shining down, the forest details were strangely illuminated. She found herself looking twice at every shadow, wondering if she saw the shape of a person hiding in it.
Her hand went to the chain around her neck, toying with the links, not daring to touch the rings hanging from it.
“I didn’t realize you were so interested in Mir tradition,” Captain Carr observed. “The moonlit procession is an old practice. I don’t believe I’ve heard of anyone doing it in decades.”
“My mother used to tell me about it,” Bryn explained. “The moment she drank the water was the instant she fell in love with my father. Theirs had been a strictly political union until then.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “Your parents were never in love.”
She’d carefully prepared to act her way through the entire evening, but she couldn’t hide how this genuinely flustered her. “Pardon?”
As far as Bryn knew, her parents had been in love. In every speech, her father professed his devotion to her mother. She used to overhear her mother brag to the other royal women about her father’s romantic nature. But now that she thought about it, she realized she’d only ever heard them vocalize theiraffection for one another in public. She’d never once seen them embrace while alone.
“Your parents shared a political goal,” the captain said. “An ambition. That was all. They didn’t spend a moment with each other they didn’t have to. They each had, if you’ll excuse me for speaking ill of the dead, paramours.”
Bryn didn’t think she could still be disappointed by her previous naiveté, but now she found herself feeling lied to all over again.
Captain Carr pursed his lips as though pitying her, though it held a twinge of mockery. “My lady, you didn’t really believe they were in love, did you? Ah, you are such a young, pure-hearted thing. Taking the world at face value.” He lowered his voice. “No wonder you fell for that savage prince. Don’t try to deny it—I saw the way you looked at him. But I don’t blame you. Men like him know how to lead a simpleminded thing like yourself astray.”
He reached for her cheek, but she turned her face away sharply. Then, she realized what a dangerous mistake that could be and, thinking better of it, placated him with a smile.
“Yes, I suppose I’m fortunate to have you to guide me. Your keen sight sees the truth in everyone. You saw Rangar for what he really was—a brute.”
He smiled. “The Baer prince is a threat no longer. I know that his death must likely still be painful for you, but in time, you’ll understand he was using you for your crown.” His eyes dropped to her chest. “I’m sure your body was a pleasing bonus for him.”
The way he regarded her made her skin go clammy. The carriage felt too small and stifling. She wanted desperately to throw open the door and run out into the woods to put distance between them.
