He began to play a lively tune his father had taught him, one his father had played for Gabe’s mother before they were married, when she was giving a dance lesson for their friends Gunther and Hildy.
Now Gabe was playing it for the Wicked Witch of Bavaria, with her creepy white face and hawkish talons.
Gabe concentrated on getting all the notes right, keeping his eyes on the strings of the lute. When he finished the song, the duchess was staring at him coldly, as if completely unmoved by the music.
“You play very well,” she said slowly, her eyes half closed. “Play another song.”
Gabe began another dance tune, longer than the one before, and then decided to play another, to keep playing until she stopped him. After the third song, she said, “That is enough.” She steepled her fingers again, clicking her nails together. “It is my wish that you stay the night and play for me again this evening. But you must stay here, on the castle mount, and not go into the village. Guards, take him to his room.”
The guards didn’t put their hands on him this time, merely waited for him to precede them out of the room.
When he reached the door, he turned and bowed to Duchess Ermengard. “Until tonight.”
She nodded, the eerie smile returning to her face.
After exploring his room, which was adequate though by no means luxurious, he set out to write a song for the duchess. He tried to think of words to praise her beauty, but nothing came to mind. When he finally started writing on a piece of parchment from his bag, scratching with a quill and ink he found in the room, the words flowed through his mind and onto the page as if by magic. Only after the third line did he realize he wasn’t thinking about the duchess at all, but about Sophie. Her black hair, her beautiful skin, thick lashes, and blue eyes pierced his consciousness like a sword of inspiration. He would have to be careful to make it sound like he was writing and singing about the duchess. He couldn’t let her know his song was actually in praise of her servant.
Did the duchess hate Sophie because she was so beautiful? Or was it because Sophie was the daughter of her dead husband, Duke Baldewin, and the rightful heir of Hohendorf Castle and all its demesne, and thus the perfect toy to torment?
He continued to pour out the song. Then he took up his lute and picked out a tune fit to accompany the words.
Sophie’d had to stop dipping candles to help Petra prepare the evening meal. After two additional maids had come in to help, Sophie and Petra were no longer able to speak about Sophie’s true identity, or about the fact that Sophie was betrothed to Gabe’s brother. Nor were they able to talk about Gabe’s chances of getting away from the duchess. Sophie prayed for him while she continued with her work. Had he been taken to the dungeon?
As she walked down the cool corridor toward the entrance to the inner courtyard in order to draw water for cooking, Sophie heard the faint sounds of music. She stopped and listened. It was coming from one of the rarely used guest chambers farther down the corridor. But it sounded like someone who was just learning to play, the way the song stopped, then started, over and over.
Or maybe it was someone learning a new song. Or writing one. It had to be Gabe. But was the duchess truly allowing him to stay in the castle?
At least he hadn’t been sent to the dungeon. Not yet, anyway.
That night, as the servants were eating in the kitchen, Sophie sat between Petra and Roslind and talked quietly about the stranger.
“He has such kind eyes,” Petra said. “Even if he is the son of a nobleman, I like him.”
“Yes,” Roslind said, taking a bite of her stewed apples. “He seems very kind. And very handsome too. Don’t you think so, Sophie? He might even be a brother.” Roslind’s eyes grew wide with excitement, clearly believing Gabe was nice enough to join their servant “family.”
“I don’t think we know him well enough for that, Roslind.” Sophie thought how pitiful she and Roslind were, so desperate for love they created imaginary kinships. The longing to belong had haunted Sophie all her life. She wasn’t sure how she would ever be able to stop looking for those kindships, or that she even wished to. It soothed the ache in her heart to call Roslind sister and Petra mama.
Her thoughts went back to what Gabe had said earlier, that he had come here to help Sophie because Pinnosa had said she was in danger. He must have been telling her the truth after all. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but the thought that he had come here just for her gave her a thrill of hope. Hope that she was not worthless. Hope that someone might love her enough to want to save her from this dark place.
And Gabe had said she was betrothed to his brother. Betrothed. The very word meant she belonged to someone. And if she married his brother, then Gabe would be her brother. It was a beautiful thought.
Sophie looked up and found herself staring into Gabe’s brown eyes.