So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(19)

Sister Fallyn shook her head. “It’s taken me years to stop blaming me self for Kennet’s death.” She wiped her cheek. “I’m not looking forward to going back to Tourin.”

Brigitta winced. “I don’t want to go, either. I suppose Rupert plans to hand us over to my brother, Gunther.”

“Aye, in exchange for a hefty amount of gold, no doubt.” Sister Fallyn sighed as she slathered butter on her bread. “There are no good men in Tourin.”

“Except Kennet.”

“Aye, but he’s gone.” The nun gave Brigitta a stern look. “Ye must be careful with yer heart, lass. Love is a powerful force, and once it’s taken ye over, it can cause ye to do all sorts of things ye ne’er imagined.”

Brigitta’s eyes widened. “Exciting things?”

“Terrible things. Tragic mistakes that can cost someone’s life. ’Tis not like the overly dramatic stories ye write. Ye’re not guaranteed a happy ending.”

Brigitta swallowed hard. “I understand.” She already suspected her concept of a dashing young hero was sadly flawed. Why else would she even entertain the notion that the infamous Rupert could be her tall and handsome stranger?

She shoved him from her thoughts once again. “What can ye tell me about Tourin? Ye must know quite a bit, since ye grew up in the capital.”

Sister Fallyn shook her head. “Lourdon wasn’t always the capital. Many years ago, the capital was up north in the Highlands, and the House of Trepurin ruled the country.”

“Isn’t that where the gold is mined?” Brigitta asked. “The mountains in the north?”

“Aye. The gold was discovered four hundred years ago by Lord Aelfrid Trepurin, who used his newfound wealth to become the first king of Tourin. He spread the wealth among the Highland clans, so they were always loyal. Fierce warriors, too. Whenever the nobles in the south rebelled, they were crushed.”

Brigitta nodded. “I remember from my studies that the country was constantly plagued with civil war.”

“Aye.” Sister Fallyn grimaced. “The problem was the gold. The northern nobles had it, and southern ones wanted it. Together, they made life miserable for the common folk. They were always taking our healthy young men to fight their battles for them. And every time the south lost, there would be towns burned and lives destroyed.” She shuddered. “It was dreadful.”

“But wasn’t my father from the south? How did he become king?”

Sister Fallyn took a bite of bread and waved a dismissive hand. “It hardly matters. What’s done is done.”

She was doing it again, Brigitta realized. The nun was dodging questions about her family. “Sister, I need to know. I could end up at the royal court in Lourdon. It would be dangerous for me to go there ignorant.”

Sister Fallyn sighed. “Aye, I suppose ye need to know.” She took a sip of wine, then gave her a worried look. “I have to warn ye, lass. ’Tis not a pretty story.”

Brigitta sat back in her chair. “Tell me.”

The nun’s eyes grew unfocused as she delved back into her memory. “When I was a child, King Balfrid died and his son Manfrid inherited the throne. Manfrid was the first king to reach out to the south. He spent some of his gold rebuilding towns and bridges. He spread the gold about, hoping to buy peace for the country.”

“It sounds like he wanted what was best for Tourin.”

Sister Fallyn shrugged. “I suppose. But he also wanted to avoid war because his firstborn son was only four years old and his second son just a babe. The two boys would have been in grave danger if anything happened to himself.”

An ominous feeling crept over Brigitta. “But something did happen?”

Sister Fallyn nodded. “After a few years, yer father Garold claimed to have a plan that would bring a lasting peace to Tourin. A way to unite the north and south for all time. A marriage that would bind the House of Trepurin to the House of Grian. All the king had to do was betroth his elder son, Prince Ulfrid, to Garold’s baby daughter.”

Brigitta’s breath hitched. “Me self?”

“Aye.” Sister Fallyn gulped down some wine. “King Manfrid agreed and came south with a small army. He was welcomed everywhere with cheers, for the people desperately wanted peace. The king didn’t expect any trouble, not when Garold had sent him his elder son, Gunther, as a hostage.”

“Ye mean if King Manfrid was attacked, Gunther would be killed?”

“Exactly. Gunther was only twelve years old at the time, but I’m sure he understood how he was being used. He was illegitimate, after all, so he was probably considered expendable.”

Brigitta winced. “So what happened?”

“King Manfrid took his elder son and personal guard to Garold’s castle in Lourdon, and there the ceremony took place. The prince was about six or seven years old at the time. Old enough to recite the betrothal vows to yerself.”

Brigitta’s heart pounded fast. She’d been betrothed? “How old was I?”

“Three months. Everything seemed to be going well…”

A chill skittered down Brigitta’s spine. Surely her father hadn’t …

“It happened when the king and his entourage were riding back through the town of Lourdon. Garold had positioned archers along the tops of the buildings.”