Chapter 13
AN UNKNOWN RIDER . . . Rangar's letter . . . Broderick's fate . . . rushed wedding plans . . . a snowy reunion
Bryn devoured Rangar’s letter with her eyes, anxious for any scraps of news.
My love,
I know your heart must be filled with fear to receive this letter, but I have good tidings to report. My men and I located Broderick south of Disworth Forest, where he was hiding out among a small logging operation. The unfortunate news is that he is dead. He died of cholera mere days before we arrived, and thus, we are left with no means to force a confession from him. Regardless, I have managed to obtain strong evidence of his guilt. I’m bringing it home to let my father judge its merits.
Rangar
Bryn reread the letters several times to make certain she wasn’t imagining his words.
Rangar is coming home. He’s safe.
Her breath came fast with relief, and yet the shadow of Broderick’s death darkened her hope. The only way to completely exonerate Rangar was for Broderick to confess. What other “evidence” could Rangar have found?
She cleared her throat, aware that Ren was still standing in the doorway. “Rangar is returning.”
Ren nodded solemnly. He wasn’t the sort of boy to show his emotions plainly, but Bryn got the sense this was very welcome news. “Shall we practice the amplifier spell?”
“Soon,” Bryn said, swallowing down the last of the cheese as she shuffled into her house shoes. “I must tell the Barendur family this news.”
She hurried through the castle looking for Valenden, pausing every so often to catch her breath and remind herself she needed to take it easy until she was fully healed. Since receiving word that Rangar was coming home, everything about the castle seemed brighter. The hearth fires burned brighter, the workers’ smiles seemed especially kind. She plowed through the kitchen on her search and was about to head back up to the yew courtyard when Roxin popped out of the pantry.
“Oh! Lady Bryn. I wanted to ask you about desserts for the wedding feast . . .”
“Yes, yes, later today,” Bryn said breathlessly.
She eventually found Valenden with Mage Marna in the council chambers. The two of them sat alone at the far end of the table, whispering among themselves. When Bryn stopped short in the doorway with Rangar’s letter clutched in hand, they silenced.
What had they been whispering about so solemnly?
“What is it, Bryn?” Valenden prompted.
She thrust out the letter, eager to share the news. “Rangar is returning. Broderick is dead, but Rangar believes he has proof of his guilt.”
Both Valenden and Mage Marna took their time reading the letter. Bryn frowned as she studied their expressions; they didn’t seem nearly as cheered by this good news as she expected.
“Is something wrong?” she asked hesitantly.
Valenden and his aunt exchanged a long, cryptic look. Then Valenden sighed. “It’s good news about Rangar. Very good news. Depending on whatever proof he has, of course.”
Bryn toyed nervously with her necklace. “So why doesn’t this feel like a joyous occasion?”
Mage Marna placed her hands on the table and said quietly, “King Aleth has taken a turn for the worse.”
Bryn pressed her hand to her mouth. Her first thought was of Rangar. What if he didn’t make it home in time before the king’s passing? It would kill him not to see his father one final time.
Besides, the king needs to exonerate him!
A heavy silence fell over the council chambers. Bryn sank into a wooden chair, resting her clasped hands on the table. “How much time does he have?”
“A matter of days,” Mage Marna said quietly. “He won’t last the week.”
Bryn touched a shaky hand to her forehead, trying to make sense of it.
Mage Marna slid Rangar’s letter back across the table to Bryn. “Let us pray that Rangar returns swiftly. If the wedding doesn’t happen before Aleth’s passing, it will have to wait until after the grieving period. We hold no celebrations in the month following a king’s death: no weddings, no birth celebrations, no holidays. The only exception, of course, being the coronation of the next king.”
