“What do you want to become of them?” He squeezed her tighter.
She thought for a moment. In spite of the fact that she had often hated them, especially her stepmother, she found she didn’t really like imagining her in the dungeon. It must be a terrible place. But she did hope her stepmother and Irma and Contzel were thinking about how badly they had treated her and were wishing they had been kinder. She hoped they had trouble sleeping at night. She hoped they shuddered at the thought of Gisela getting revenge on them, now that the duke’s son loved her and was marrying her—now that she had power over them.
No, that was wrong. The priest had told her once, “Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.” It was wrong for her to hate her stepmother and stepsisters, no matter what they had done to her.
Gisela sighed. “I don’t want to get revenge on them. And I want to forgive them, but I don’t ever want to see them again.” She rubbed her cheek against his shirt. The men must have brought supplies, because his tunic was new, and he smelled better now that he was clean. “My father’s house rightfully belongs to my stepmother. But do you think it would be acceptable to move my father’s horses to Hagenheim Castle’s stables?”
He gave her another squeeze. “Yes, I think that will be the least your stepmother can do. The horses shall be her wedding gift to you.”
“Whether she likes it or not.” Gisela giggled. But she suppressed her delight in imagining Evfemia’s discomfiture. Don’t be vengeful. It was enough to know she would no longer be under her stepmother’s control, that she was finally loved. It was what she’d always longed for.
Gisela was lying on the bench with her foot propped up per Bartel’s orders that night. Valten sat beside her, in a chair this time, with his hand again in a bucket of cold water for the second time that day, sneaking kisses from her whenever no one was looking. Three of the seven men were playing musical instruments, while the others tapped their feet or clapped their hands. A more pleasant night Gisela could hardly imagine.
Bartel came toward them. He took Valten’s hand out of the bucket of water and dried it carefully, then took off the splint. After his hand had fully dried, he put on another splint and wrapped it tightly.
“We shall repeat this twice a day while you are here.”
As soon as Bartel left the room Roslind burst out, “Sophie and Gabe are here!”
Gisela took her foot down from the bench and sat up straight. Valten stood too and sat down beside her on the bench.
He whispered, “Now you’ll get to meet my brother and Sophie.”
Gisela was too nervous to reply. She looked down at her dress. Roslind had washed her beautiful ball gown, but it still looked the worse for wear, reflecting the rough days and nights spent sleeping on the ground, in a cave, and hurrying through forests. Perhaps she could explain and Lady Sophie wouldn’t think too little of her. But she had heard that Valten’s former betrothed, though she was a duke’s daughter, had grown up with a cruel stepmother who made her work as a scullery maid — not so different from Gisela’s life. She was excited to meet her.
The front door opened and two people swept in. The man was tall, although not as tall as Valten, and smiled as he took the cloak from the lady’s shoulders. His hair was darker than Valten’s, but from his profile, she did see a slight resemblance between them. His lady greeted the seven men, clasping the hands of each one and bidding them to rise, as they had all fallen to one knee in front of her. Her voice was high but pleasant, and she laughed good-naturedly. She stood with her back to Valten and Gisela. Valten rose and walked toward them. Gisela stood and waited.
When Gabe caught sight of him, his smile grew wider. They embraced for a moment and clapped each other on the back. Valten politely took Sophie’s hand and bowed over it.
“We didn’t expect to see you here.” Sophie’s voice was warm and kind, but without the least bit of flirtation. Her head was turned now so that Gisela could see her face. She was beautiful, with hair as black as night, and delicate but perfectly proportioned features. “Oh, what happened to you?” She pointed to Valten’s splinted and bandaged hand.
“Just a minor tournament injury.”
“How was the tournament?” Gabe asked.
“I won.”
“Of course you did.” Gabe clapped him on the back again and laughed.
“I have someone I want you both to meet.” Valten turned and motioned Gisela forward with his hand.
She tried not to limp as she walked forward. Her cheeks heated as they all turned their attention to her. Sophie was elegant, beautifully dressed, so easy and graceful. Gisela felt like a servant in her presence. And since Sophie was the daughter of a duke, Gisela curtsied.
“This is Gisela Mueller, and she and I are to be married.”