Page 22 of Realm of Thieves

“Uncle,” I say, pasting a smile on my face. I do it more to piss him off since he always says I’m grinning like a fool. “This is Brynla Aihr,” I tell him. “And her dog, Lemi.”

It’s only now that my gawking uncle pulls his eyes off Brynla and notices the giant black hound sitting patiently beside her. His grimace deepens and he looks to me.

“Am I supposed to know who the fuck Brynla Aihr is?” he grumbles. “Other than the fact that she’s a foreigner. A purple-haired one at that. Sunburnt skin. Fucking hell, she’s a bloody Eslander, isn’t she?”

I expect Brynla to bite back but she remains silent, though I can feel the negative energy roiling up inside her.

“She’s an Eslander,” I say. “One of the Freelanders. From the Banished Land. And she is now a prisoner of Stormglen.”

Brynla flinches and looks at me as if I’ve betrayed her. Perhaps the wordprisonerwas a bit too harsh, even if it’s technically true.

“A prisoner?” Uncle Kjell takes a step forward to her, looking her over again. “She’s not bound.”

“We have an agreement,” I tell him.

“An agreement, eh?” he says, narrowing his eyes at me. “And does your father know about this?”

I square my shoulders, breathing out sharply through my nose so I can focus and stay calm. “No.”

“No?” Brynla says, pivoting to face me, her dark eyes blazing. “You mean they don’t know about your plan?”

I give her a stiff smile, mentally willing her to keep quiet. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned it in passing to my father before. He’ll think it’s a good idea.”

“Is that so?” Kjell says. “Taking an Eslander prisoner. A Freelander at that. Knowing you and your schemes, it’s about as useless and harebrained as the last one. Tell me, nephew, what is this agreement you have?”

“Nothing I’m willing to discuss with you,” I say to him, and grab Brynla’s arm, pulling her around him and through the doors into the courtyard, Lemi staying close to her heels. “The goods are in the carriage,” I call to him over my shoulder.

“You kidnapped me for nothing,” Brynla seethes under her breath as I lead her between the fountains in the middle of the yard and Solla’s rose garden.

“What little faith you have in me,” I tell her with a grin.

“I have zero faith in you,” she says.

My smile shakes slightly.

“I’ll just have to prove you wrong,” I say.

Just like I have to prove everyone wrong, all the time.

It’s fucking exhausting.

We enter the main doors and step inside the hall, the smells of dinner cooking coming from the kitchen. I spot my sister, Solla, heading toward the great chamber, a book in her hand.

“Solla,” I whisper to her, hurrying Brynla along the obsidian floors, Lemi’s nails clicking on the surface as he trots behind us.

Solla stops and stares at us, blue eyes bright and wide. “You’re back early,” she says in her quiet voice, clutching her book tighter to her chest. “Who is this?” she asks, trying to sound polite, but I can see she can’t make heads or tails of Brynla and Lemi. I’ve certainly never brought a girl home—I’d never subject a woman to this place—and most definitely not a hound.

“A prisoner,” Brynla says dryly as I loosen my grip on her arm.

“Is the dog prisoner too?” Solla asks, brushing her bangs out of her eyes with her free hand.

“Yes,” I tell her. “Listen, I need you to do me a favor.”

Even under her hair I can see her thick brows knit together. “What?” she asks, ever hesitant.

“Can you take Brynla to her quarters? Put her in the yellow room. The dog can go with her too.”

“Oh, she has a name?” Solla asks.

---