The Captive Maiden

“Lord Hamlin!”

 

 

Valten turned to see Rainhilda, Sir Edgar’s daughter.

 

“I couldn’t wait to tell you.” She leaned toward him, as if encouraging him to look down the low bodice of her dress. “You were magnificent in the tournament.”

 

“Thank you.” He kept his eyes at the level of hers, refusing to stare at her chest.

 

She widened her eyes and laid a hand on his arm. “I was so afraid for you I could hardly breathe.” She leaned even closer, and he took a step away from her. “I’m so pleased you were able to defeat them all. You were magnificent.”

 

Not wanting Gisela to see him talking with Rainhilda, he backed away further. “I must go. Excuse me, Rainhilda.”

 

He turned and strode toward the door facing the courtyard, where Gisela would enter. He couldn’t stand around waiting for her. He reached the door and opened it, and there was Gisela, walking toward him, her hair in curls piled on top of her head. It was dark, but he could easily see how beautiful she looked.

 

When he reached her, he put his hand on her shoulder and searched her face in the dim light.

 

“Valten.” She said his name on a happy sigh as she looked into his eyes.

 

He put his arms around her, pulling her against his chest.

 

 

 

Gisela’s heart seemed lodged in her throat as the door opened and Valten came toward her, silhouetted in the light spilling through the doorway. The door closed and the two of them were in the relative darkness of the night, with no one around — except about twenty guards.

 

She was so happy to see him, to see the concern on his face. When she told him what happened, he wouldn’t be angry with her. He touched her shoulder, and joy overwhelmed her.

 

“Valten.” She was just thinking how good his arms would feel around her, when he suddenly pulled her to him.

 

His chest was warm. She wrapped her arms around him and breathed in the clean smell of his dark blue tunic. The soldiers were backing away, and she’d never felt so safe.

 

“I thought you would be at the tournament.”

 

“I went home with my stepmother last night, even though I knew it was unwise. I should have known better. The truth is, she locked me in my chamber while I slept.” It was embarrassing to admit. What would he think of a girl who could inspire such hatred in her own stepmother? “I-I was afraid you would be angry with me. I couldn’t bear for you to think I wasn’t coming. I tried everything I could think of to escape, but I was trapped.” She held on tight to him, keeping her face pressed again his chest, not wanting to look him in the eye as she told him the shameful truth of her stepmother’s treatment. But she seemed compelled to tell him all, wanting him to know that she had not stayed away on purpose,

 

“Ruexner came just as I escaped with Ava’s servant boy. I was terrified I wouldn’t get out before he came. We ran as fast as we could, and I’m afraid I tore Margaretha’s beautiful dress. Ava gave me this dress and fixed my hair. I’m sorry it took so long. I knew Evfemia would tell you lies, and I desperately wanted to see you and tell you the truth so you would not be angry with me.”

 

He pulled away and held her at arm’s length, staring into her face with a strange look in his eyes. “I am not angry with you.” She wished he would hold her again, but he seemed to be searching her face, or memorizing it. At least he didn’t look angry.

 

“I wanted to see if you were well.” She reached up and lightly brushed her fingertips over the stitches by his eyebrow. Her heart beat fast as his expression changed. “Is your hand well?” Her voice was breathy as the intensity of his gaze made her wonder if she was being too forward.

 

He slowly bent his head toward her. He was going to kiss her. How she wanted him to kiss her—

 

“Valten! There you are! I wondered where you went.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter

 

 

 

17

 

 

 

 

 

Valten’s hand tightened around Gisela arm, and he grunted in frustration. He brushed his finger over her cheek and whispered, “We will continue this conversation later.”

 

“Yes, my lord.” The mischievous twinkle in her eye almost made him kiss her anyway, even though Rainhilda was staring at them from the Great Hall door. Half the crowd of guests were craning their necks to see through the door Rainhilda was holding open.

 

He released Gisela and held out his arm to her.

 

“Your poor hand,” Gisela said softly, for his ears alone, and lightly touched his bandage. “Is it broken?”

 

“Just one bone.”

 

She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide. “I’m sorry you were hurt by that brute.”

 

“You are the one who was in danger. I thank God for keeping you safe.” And he meant it, as gratitude to God welled up inside him. He couldn’t bear to think what could have happened to her if Ruexner had gotten there a minute sooner. “I wish I had been there to save you.”

 

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