17. Brenna

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Robert Glenfarrow infuriatingly halted their small party in order to talk to some old man dressed in the clothes of a Grella noble. Brenna wasn't sure if Robert knew the man or not, but she supposed when one was fighting a war with outnumbered troops, one would take any opportunity to speak to moneyed persons. At any rate, whether he knew the Grellan or not, Robert launched into a conversation about deadly dull trading news and the fish market.

Brenna kicked at a clump of gravel and surreptitiously stretched her arms. Her gaze wandered over the garden and came to a rest on the hedge maze a few yards ahead of them. From her angle she clearly saw Afton and Morna emerging from the other end, only to quickly duck into the woods that ran along the garden's wall. Indignation and anger burned in the pit of Brenna's stomach. Her eyes whipped to Robert, certain he would have noticed the brazen act, but he was absorbed in his trade conversation and turned the other way.

Brenna fought a scream. When she'd sneaked off with Afton, Robert had practically sensed it and barged in with temper flaring. But when Afton and Morna ran into the woods to clearly get up to no good, then the stupid man was preoccupied. It was if the fates were against Brenna! Morna! The tart! Brenna squeezed a handful of her skirt in the absence of her sister. Morna knew full well that Brenna wanted that crown, and now suddenly Morna took an interest in Afton? Obviously, her sister had finally grown tired of the painfully obscure life of the Grand House, and was making a move for Anjeluund. Only, she didn't know about Robert's objections to their family. Thankfully, if Brenna was out of the running than so was Morna.

Well, let her flirt and carry on with Afton. She could become his mistress and Brenna wouldn't care. Mistresses had no power. Brenna had the better deal, even if Morna could claim Afton's heart. Brenna had an offer of marriage, which Robert had made quite clear would never come from Afton.

At this point, Robbin approached Brenna from the side and offered his arm. "I don't know about you, but I'm not keen on standing around while my father fans that peacock's ego," he said. "I'm going to walk on."

Heavily implied was that she would walk with him. At any other time she would challenge his non-existent authority, but all she could think about was her thieving sister. All quips and scathing remarks flew her mind. So she took his arm and let him lead her to the entrance of the hedge maze.

They paused just on the inside, and Robbin looked over his shoulder to gauge the distance between them and his father. When he turned back, he squeezed her arm sharply.

Brenna hissed. "Ow! What are you doing?"

"You're being obvious," he said, hauling her out of plain view behind one of the hedge walls.

"What are you talking about?" Brenna asked, wrenching her arm free. She sulkily rubbed at her bruised skin and glared at Robbin.

"Even a blind nun could figure out what all those looks you've been directing at my brother mean. My father isn't going to ignore it if you keep on."

Brenna sniffed. "I wasn't looking at your brother. I was looking at my sister."

Robbin looked up at the sky with a heavy sigh. "Honestly, Brenna, what should you care if you sister has her little claws in Afton? You have absolutely no chance at being his wife, and she has even less. So why are you jealous of some petty little affair? They'll dally, but when Afton has to wed—wed a princess-- I know his honor will demand that he drop any side romances. So stop your ridiculous jealous pouting. It does nothing for your face."

"Of all the most asinine things to say-" Brenna snapped, but Robbin cut her off with a sharp look.

"Whenever Afton is married, your sister will be worse off than before if she carries on with him. However, you will wedded to the king's brother and living in the Anjeluund castle. You should be grateful instead of whining."

"Grateful? Ha!" Brenna scoffed. She crossed her arms and fixed Robbin with a withering stare. "I'm not going to fall onto my knees to you, no matter what you offer me. I'm the one with the connections that will get you an army, remember?"

"An army that may or may not ever come into reality."

"No, a real army, Robbin. And you know that the chances of us getting the backing of the Grellans is strong if you marry me, otherwise you would never have proposed."

Robbin didn't deny it.

Brenna stood back, dropping her tense posture and loosening her arms. Her gaze dropped to the naked finger of her left hand. Promises were nothing when held between two people. They only became real when everyone knew of them. She looked up sharply. "I want you to announce our engagement."

Robbin, seemingly unfazed by the sudden shift in their conversation, rolled his eyes. "I'll get to it when I have the time."

"No, I want it to happen tonight," she said, her voice softening. Her chance was so close. She had to grab it while she still could.

Robbin's lips thinned and his gaze slipped over her head. She turned slightly to see that he was staring at his father, who had just broken away from the Grellan noble and was searching for them on the path. Brenna looked back to Robbin, her hand stealing to his. He didn't entwine his fingers with her, but he also didn't pull away.

"Fine. Tonight," he said, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow and walking deeper into the hedge maze.


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