“And you are no lowly peasant.” Her voice lowered once again and her eyes narrowed. “I do believe Duke Wilhelm had a son … a son named Gabehart. But Gabehart was not betrothed to a duke’s daughter. No, no. As I recall, his older brother, Valten, was to marry Duke Baldewin’s only child. So which one are you? Are you Valten, assuming your brother’s name? Or are you actually stupid enough to be Gabehart?”
Her evil catlike eyes seemed to bore into his soul, like a wild animal surveying her prey. Gabe shuddered.
“And if you are Gabehart, why did not Valten, Sophie’s betrothed, come to rescue her?”
Gabe cast about in his mind for a strategy, a way of escape from this room and this woman. But the windows were shut and bolted. He could possibly unbolt one and jump out the window, if he took everyone by complete surprise, although he was so high in her tower room he’d probably break something when he hit the ground. The only other option was to physically overpower her, which also appeared to be a gamble. For now, he would tell the truth in an effort to keep her from becoming enraged again. The moment she called for her guards, his lot was hopeless.
“I am Gabehart, second son of Duke Wilhelm of Hagenheim. You are right, Your Grace. I was wrong to try to fool you. Valten couldn’t come because of a broken leg. But I am here only to see if what an old woman said was true. About Sophie.” As he spoke, he tried to think of a way to overpower her. She was almost close enough that he could grab her. But perhaps it wouldn’t be necessary. Perhaps she would let him leave.
She stepped around him, getting between him and the door leading to the corridor.
Duchess Ermengard opened the door while keeping her eyes on Gabe. She screamed, “Guards!”
Gabe ran toward the window, but before he could even get it unbolted, guards rushed into the room, the sharp swish of their swords being drawn from their scabbards, their boots pounding on the flagstone floor. He struggled with the rusty bolt, and just as he shoved it free and threw open the window, two burly men grabbed Gabe’s shoulder. They threw him to the floor. He hit the flagstone with the side of his face. As the darkness started closing in on him, the last thing he heard was a crazed, high-pitched cackling.
When she saw that Gabe was unconscious, Duchess Ermengard pointed a finger at the closest guard. “Get Lorencz.”
As she waited, she envisioned ways she could dispose of the foolhardy boy laid out before her feet. The only question was how long to draw out his pain.
Once the huntsman arrived, Gabe was taken away to the dungeon on her order, leaving her alone with Lorencz.
He reached out to take her hand and kiss it, but his eyes gave away his fear. She ground her teeth. “How dare you think that girl is more beautiful than I am.”
“Your Grace, I —”
“Don’t speak! You have become enamored with her too.” That useful girl Darla had told her everything, from how Lorencz had failed to get Sophie to trust him enough to take a walk with him, to being so heartbroken he got drunk with Darla instead. “I shall kill this silly, interfering Gabehart of Hagenheim for thinking she is the fairest. Though what shall I do to you? I already asked you to kill her. Why haven’t you, pray tell?”
“Your Grace, I simply haven’t had many opportunities. In fact, I was finally able to get her alone just yesterday, but that — that boy was skulking about, and even intruded upon us in the woods. You didn’t want any witnesses, as I recall.”
She gave Lorencz her coldest smile.
“Your Grace, you can’t think the girl means anything to me. The only woman with whom I am enamored is you.”
She detected fear in the way his scar turned pale. “Good. But your punishment for letting your eye wander is …” She leaned closer. “Why is it that everyone seems to like her?” She tapped her fingernail against her chin, deliberately drawing out the moment to see if he would squirm. Instead, he kept his face impassive. The only indication of his distress was the barely detectable rapid rise and fall of his chest as his breathing quickened. He knew full well what she was capable of.
“She is an insipid little creature. I could break her in half with my bare hands. What do you see in her, dear huntsman?”
“Not me, Your Grace.” Lorencz smiled and shook his head, an attempt to look unconcerned. “She is nothing to me. You are the woman I think about, the one I dream about.”
“Very good.” She stepped forward and placed her hand under his chin, letting her fingernails glide along his skin, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “I am pleased to hear that. And now I have one thing I want you to do for me.”
“Anything, Your Grace.”
“As I told you before, I want you to kill Sophie. And I want you to do it today.”
He blinked several times, as if trying to hide his feelings and not look horrified, but she saw his repulsion. Weakling.
“Of course. How?”
She took her time answering him, savoring how his expression twisted with each moment. She had misjudged him. He had more of a conscience than she had given him credit for.
It was a pity.