Sophie felt as if she’d fallen out of a tree and had the breath knocked out of her lungs. But seeing Petra’s stricken expression, she answered, “Of course I forgive you. But are you sure?”
“Yes, my dear. You are the whole reason I am still here. I knew you needed a person who cared about you, and I couldn’t bear to leave Duke Baldewin’s baby —” Petra’s words were cut short by a sudden sob. She quickly took a deep lungful of air and went on. “Forgive me. It is a relief to speak of it after all these years. Poor Pinnosa and I were the last ones who knew.”
“What happened to my father?”
“I don’t know. Most of the servants believe the duchess killed him. Either way, he is gone these fifteen years.” Petra lowered her voice even more.
“Why didn’t she kill me too?”
“I think she gets a perverse pleasure out of tormenting you, out of knowing that she’s turned the duke’s beloved daughter into a common scullery maid.”
The duke’s beloved daughter. Sophie allowed herself to dwell on that. Her father, the duke, had loved her. She was loved. Once upon a time.
Gabe tried not to worry too much about what was about to happen. He’d charmed his way out of predicaments before; maybe none quite like this, but if he kept his head, all would turn out well. After all, what could the duchess do to him besides throw him in the dungeon? If she did, his father’s knights would eventually come for him.
Although he didn’t relish sitting in a dungeon for days and weeks, or even months.
That is, if the duchess didn’t have him killed.
The guards pulled him into the deep recesses of the castle, and if he had his bearings right, they were ascending the stairs of the center keep where the duchess’s private chambers would likely be, especially if she were as paranoid for her own safety as he’d heard.
The guards came to a door. They opened it and pushed him inside. Before Gabe could fully regain his balance, he heard the door close behind him and two of the guards moved to stand on either side of him, hands on their sword hilts.
A woman sat motionless on a huge thronelike chair in the back of the large chamber, her hands steepled in front of her. Her face was oddly pale, her lips painted red and her eyelids black, and her fingernails were so long they curled under. He’d never seen anyone so garish. He was no longer surprised at the rumors she was a witch. But she did possess a commanding type of beauty. She was tall, although it was hard to tell her exact height since she was sitting down. She had a long graceful neck and a curvaceous figure with a tiny waist.
“I have a trespasser, do I?” Her lips curled in a way that made his blood turn cold. “It isn’t often someone comes to visit me uninvited. You did come all this way to see me, I hope?” She lifted her thin, sculpted eyebrows.
“Yes, Your Grace. Whom else would I be coming to see?”
“I don’t know. You seemed to be talking a great deal to one of my scullery maids. What is it you want with her? Do you find her pretty?”
The look in her eyes sent a chill down Gabe’s spine. The only sound in the room was the tick-tick-tick of her inordinately long fingernails clicking against each other as she waited.
“I came to see you, Your Grace, to be inspired by your great beauty. I had heard of your loveliness and have now found that it was not exaggerated.” God, forgive me for my lies. The success of his quest, not to mention a young maiden’s life, was at stake.
The duchess eyed him in a way that made him think she didn’t believe him for one moment.
“I am but a humble troubadour, and it would be my privilege to play for you, to compose a song about your beauty and grace and … mercy.” He threw that last word in for his own sake. “Of course, I ask for nothing in return. It shall be enough that I have feasted upon your beauty. And I shall find my own place to sleep, in the village.”
“No,” she said quickly. “You shall sleep here, in the castle.” She grinned like a cat about to devour the prey within her claws, then crossed her arms, resting her long fingernails prominently on her velvet sleeves.
“Yes, Your Grace. Let it be as you wish.” His blood felt cold in his veins as he realized she knew he was lying. Why else would she be so quick to have him sleep at the castle?
She stared at him, unblinking. He had the distinct urge to squirm under her gaze, but forced himself to remain perfectly still.
“Where are you from?” she demanded.
“Hungary, but I have been a wanderer most of my life.” That was true enough. He’d wandered all over the Hagenheim region.
“Play something for me.”
“It shall be my pleasure to play for you.” Gabe took the large leather bag from where he’d slung it over his back and carefully unwrapped his lute. His hands shook a bit, but he felt confident. After all, things were going just as he’d hoped; he was here with the duchess and she was asking him to play.