“And you,” she challenged equally playfully, “like having a locking door and a bed where you can make love to me whenever you like, without having to abscond to some shadowy corner and hope no one passes by.”
He conceded this with a nod as he finished chewing his turkey leg. “I do like that. As a matter of fact, I like that quite a bit.” He cleaned his hands on his napkin while he took his time drinking in the sight of her like she was part of the meal. “In fact—”
But a knock at the door interrupted whatever scandalous words were on the tip of his tongue. It was Roxin and two other kitchen maids carrying pies in each of their hands.
Bryn stepped back from the door to allow them entrance. Pleasantly surprised, she said, “What’s this?”
“Mince pie, apple pie, fig pie, pear tart, walnut pie, and oyster pie.” Roxin counted off the six pies as the maids crowded them on the room’s dining table and started taking away their empty dinner plates.
“Goodness, we can’t eat all this!” Bryn exclaimed.
“They’re to sample,” Roxin said proudly. “For you to pick which confection you want with the wedding banquet. Walnut pie is traditional, but I took to heart what you said, my lady, about celebrating the Baersladen’s natural environments. I thought you might want something a little different. We’ll leave you to it. Tell me tomorrow which one you prefer.”
After thanking them and closing the door behind them, Bryn sat back down at the table and twirled her fork over the pies with a smile curling her lips.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve indulged like this,” she said to Rangar. “I almost feel like I’m back in Castle Mir, where they brought out pies after every meal.” She frowned, though, as her fork glided over the last pie. “I think I’ll skip the oyster one, though.”
Rangar stabbed his fork into it, taking a hearty bite. “Delicious.”
She made a face, then dipped her fork into the pear tart and popped the bite into her mouth. Sighing with ecstasy, she slumped back in her chair. “That is divine. Roxinmusthave used magic.”
“Try the apple one.” Rangar scooped a bite of the sweet fruit pie and held it out for her across the table. Bryn ate the bite off his fork, licking her lips to capture the delicious crumbly crust. “Heaven,” she murmured. “I’ll never be able to choose between them.”
“Roxin wants to please you,” Rangar said as he took a bite of the walnut pie. “Everyone in the castle wants to please you, our beautiful foreign-born princess.” He swallowed the bite and met her eyes. “Iwant to please you.”
“You do,” she said softly, resting her hand over his.
He kissed her knuckles, then briefly left the table and dug through the wooden dresser drawers, returning with a satin satchel. He set it on the table next to the pies.
“Your second wedding gift, my love.”
Chapter 23
RANGAR'S SECOND SURPRISE . . . the castle vaults . . . morning of the wedding . . . honeybuns
Bryn hesitated before opening the satin satchel, savoring this magical moment with Rangar. Her curiosity prickled and teased her. His first wedding gift had been Fable, who was rapidly becoming one of Bryn’s favorite living creatures in the entire world.
A secretive smile touched Rangar’s lips now, as though he knew this second gift would please her even more.
Drawing a breath, she tugged the satin cord open and slid the contents out into her palm. Glittering jewels winked in the room’s candlelight. Blue sapphires as large as an almond, set in gleaming gold. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She stared at the necklace, unable to believe what she saw.
“Rangar,” she whispered. “This—this belonged to my mother.”
Bryn hadn’t seen the necklace in ten years. It had been a gift from a foreign dignitary eager to secure trade deals with her parents. She’d once overheard Elysander whispering to some young noblewomen that their father was furious over the gift. The foreign dignitary had been a handsome man and spent a bit too much time with Queen Helena, even visiting her in private in her bedroom. When the scandal was discovered, their father banished the dignitary and locked the necklace in Castle Mir’s vault.
“I know,” Rangar replied.
“How could you possibly have gotten this?” Confusion shone in her eyes as she searched his face. “No one gets into the castle vault. It requires multiple keys held by multiple advisors.”
“You underestimate my craftiness.”
“Youstoleit?” she said incredulously.
He grinned wickedly. “Saraj had a nasty habit of thievery before she was made head falconer. She taught me some tricks in our younger days. Just before Mars’s coronation ceremony, I helped myself to the vault. I remember your mother wearing this necklace on the First Night of the Low Sun Gathering. I’d never seen anything so delicate in my life . . . until I saw you. I knew you deserved to have it.”
With a shaking finger, Bryn touched one of the glittering sapphires in her palm. “We have to tell Mars. If he discovers it’s missing . . . ”
“What does your brother care for a necklace? There were countless others in the vault. Besides, you have as much right to it as he does.” When she remained speechless, he grunted. “Don’t you like it?”
