The Bridge Kingdom (The Bridge Kingdom, #1)(48)

“I didn’t want to be a soldier, you know.”

Lara cast a sideways glance at Taryn. “I’m not surprised. You strike me as more of a fisherwoman.”

Taryn spat out a laugh, but her tone turned serious. “I wanted to go to one of the universities in Harendell to study music.”

The universities in Harendell were renowned throughout all the kingdoms, north and south, but the idea that an Ithicanian would wish to attend struck Lara as odd, because it was . . . impossible. “But Ithicanians never leave?”

“Because it’s forbidden.” Taryn waved her hand. “Oh, there are spies who go, of course, but it’s not the same. It’s a false life where you aren’t yourself, and I couldn’t abide that. To follow my dream as someone else—” She broke off. “I never told my parents, because I knew they wished for me to train as a warrior and eventually be named to Aren’s council. But I told my Aunt Delia.”

Aren’s mother, Lara thought. The queen.

“My aunt believed that the surest way to earn trust was to give it.” Taryn pulled on Lara’s arm, stopping her to allow something to slither across their path before carrying on. “Everyone supported the treaty to end the war with Maridrina, but no one supported the inclusion of a marriage clause. No one wanted Aren to marry an outsider, especially a Maridrinian. But Aunt Delia believed it was the only way for us to ever have peace with our neighbors. The only way for people to stop seeing an enemy when we sat across the table to trade.”

It’s a lie, Serin’s voice shrieked inside Lara’s head. Using kindness to get you to reveal what you should not. But Lara silenced the voice. “If she believed this marriage would stop Maridrinians from viewing Ithicana as an enemy, she was mistaken.”

Taryn shook her head. “She didn’t want to change your kingdom’s beliefs. She wanted to change ours.”

No more could be said, as they had reached Nana’s home, the old woman standing in the doorway, watching them approach. “The wayward children return.”

“We kept busy, Nana.”

“Busy drinking, from the smell of it.”

A somewhat hypocritical comment given Lara could smell alcohol on the woman’s breath, a bottle and a half-filled glass sitting on the table behind her.

“I’m off to bed,” Lara said, in no mood to be berated, but Nana caught Lara’s arm in an iron grip. With the other hand, she held out a bag that twitched and squeaked. “First you feed the snakes.”

Lara eyed the bag with distaste. Not because she had any particular aversion to mice, but because she was sick of the old witch ordering her about like a servant. What she wanted to do was sneak out tonight to have a look at the bridge pier, but Nana probably intended to sit up watching her. “No.”

Nana’s eyebrows rose. “No? Is the little princess too good to feed an old woman’s pets?”

Lara’s fingers tightened reflexively. Then her eyes lighted upon the shelves above the snake cages, and an idea began to form. “I’m afraid of mice,” she lied, flinching away from the bag as Nana swung it her direction.

“Get over it.”

Lara was forced to catch the bag or have the mice scatter everywhere. Silently cursing the old woman, Lara plucked a mouse out of the bag by its tail, carefully unlatched one of the cages, and tossed the creature inside before moving onto the next.

The snakes were all poisonous. Taryn had told her that Nana harvested their venom and used it to create antidotes, as well as medicines for various natural afflictions. There were dozens of vials of foggy liquid stored above the cages, and above those, countless more plants and remedies, all clearly labeled. Between each cage, Lara scanned the contents, smiling when she found what she was looking for.

Dropping the still wriggling bag of mice, Lara shrieked, “It bit me!”

“Which snake?” Nana demanded, a hint of panic in her voice.

“Not a snake,” she sobbed, sticking one of her fingers into her mouth and biting down to create a realistic injury. “A mouse!”

“Dammit, girl!” Nana snatched up the bag, but it was too late. The remaining mice were running every which way. “Taryn, catch the damn things before they get into my larder.”

Lara wailed, climbing onto a chair while the rodents took advantage of their freedom. But the second Nana’s back was turned, she snatched a small jar from the shelves.

“Catch them, catch them!”

Taryn was dutifully chasing after the mice, but she’d drank enough that night that her movements were too slow, the rodents dodging easily until she turned to stomping on them with her heavy boots. Lara took the moment to uncork the jar.

“Don’t kill them!” Nana had two mice by the tails and was shoving them into the bag. “The snakes won’t eat them if they’re dead!” She lunged for another mouse, and Lara leaned sideways and dumped a generous splash of the jar’s contents into Nana’s cup, once again grateful for the Ithicanian preference for strong drink.

“Got one!” Taryn tossed the mouse into Nana’s sack. Lara corked the vial and shoved it back in its place on the shelf, then stood on her chair watching, uselessly, as the two women collected the remaining mice.

Muttering under her breath, Nana proceeded to finish feeding the snakes, then she grabbed hold of Lara’s hand, examining the tiny bleeding wound. “Idiot. Will serve you right if it festers.”