Colorful tents and wagons littered the clearing, and a large stage was erected at its center. Actors and bards in bright, feathered garb congregated in the area, making camp.
"Hm.” Liam pulled the reins of his elk. "I was just thinking we could stand some levity. This seems a bit much, though."
"We're not stopping," Reese said, riding us forward.
"Aw.” Bláth pouted. "You're never any fun."
I eyed the theatre troupe as we rode past, wondering what they were doing here. Surely they knew what had befallen southern Muirashi?
Reese yanked the reins, pulling Lady to an abrupt stop as one of the troupe's members approached us.
She was stunning. Hair like fire tumbled around her shoulders, a match for her burning ruby eyes. A Lavaire-style gown draped her figure, stitched of deep burgundy fabric and tied with a beautifully embroidered belt. Its deep cleavage showed off her dark, tanned skin.
A loud snort drew my attention away from the red-haired woman. Bláth leaned around Liam, grinning. "What do we have here?"
The red-haired woman flashed Bláth a withering glare and turned back to me. "Welcome, travelers. Our hospitality will more than soothe your weary hearts."
Reese shifted behind me. "Brighid . . . what are you doing?"
This was the Lady Brighid that Bláth worked for?
Here, with a theatre troupe?
Brighid maintained eye contact with me. "What else? I'm here to meet the first female Paragon." Her smile vanished. "Someone just tried to kill you, did they not? I can promise you they won't be the last."
Liam stepped his elk closer to me. "Are you threatening us?"
"Far from it.” Brighid lifted her chin. "I've a proposition for you, Lady Mare Rohan. One that just might save your life."
Chapter 34
Diar
When my father had imprisoned me yesterday, he locked me in his office.
Today, he tossed me in the dungeons.
It was so dark down here, I could hardly see a thing. One of the men escorting me roughly shoved me, and my face connected with a stone wall.
The cell locked behind me, and the sound of retreating footsteps echoed into the dark. Pressing my back to the wall, I slid to the floor and rubbed my throbbing cheek.
Siotha had been taken from me—again. This time, maybe forever.
A familiar voice emerged from the shadow of my neighboring cell.
"Here we are again," Ferris hummed. "It's like poetry."
My hand flew to my belt—but I didn't have a sword.
Ferris leaned against the bars between us—his emerald eyes practically glowed in the dark.
"What's with the sour look? I'm in here because I helped you escape."
"Not because you helped attack the city?" I asked, shifting closer, scowling. My eyes burned with betrayal, and faint pain thrummed in my heart.
"I already told you—their plans had nothing to do with me. I nearly died in Gwynford, remember?"
I turned away, staring into the darkness.'You're still with them.'I wanted to say.
