The Fairest Beauty

“Looking much better today, my lord,” Walther said, fixing his eyes on Gabe.

 

 

Sophie wondered at Walther calling him “my lord,” then realized they should all call him that. He was the son of a duke. She blushed at the familiarity of her calling him by his given name all this time.

 

“Thank you, I am,” Gabe said. “And I want to thank you for saving Sophie and me from the duchess’s guard. We would not be here if it weren’t for you. I am very grateful, and if there’s anything I can do for you —”

 

“As it happens, my lord, there is something …”

 

“Of course. Go on.”

 

Walther scratched the back of his neck, hesitating for a moment. “I cannot go back to Hohendorf now, and my wife and children are dependent on me … I was hoping your father—”

 

“Of course. He always needs capable, loyal guards like you. I shall write a missive to him now and you can take it to him. Sophie, can you find me some paper or parchment, a quill, and ink?”

 

Sophie hurried from the room and found Bartel nearby. At her request, he fetched the writing implements and then Sophie brought them to Gabe.

 

“I should like to leave today,” Walther was saying.

 

What would this mean for Sophie and Gabe? Walther would take his family and go to Hagenheim. He would certainly tell Gabe’s family about his injury, as well as their whereabouts. Gabe’s father would send men to bring them back to Hagenheim, and Sophie would have to marry Valten.

 

Gabe was busy writing a message to his father, no doubt telling him what Walther had done for them and recommending that his father hire him. She was happy Walther would have a position and would be able to provide for his family. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him after what he had done for them. Perhaps she should go with Walther to Hagenheim. After all, what excuse did she have for staying here with Gabe?

 

“Thank you, my lord.” Walther bowed to Gabe as he took the paper from his hand.

 

“Godspeed.”

 

Gabe did indeed look the part of the wealthy duke’s son, sitting in bed and writing letters, bidding a giant, burly man “Godspeed.” She glanced down at herself — too thin, dressed in strange garb, her only skills cooking and cleaning — although she could also read. Gabe would be happy to hand her over to his brother and then marry Brittola, the well-bred daughter of a count.

 

Walther left the room. When Sophie looked up from noticing her worn shoes, Gabe was staring at her. Sophie hurried over to clear away the writing implements from the bed so Gabe could sleep.

 

“Sophie?”

 

“Can I get you something?” She turned to go. “I’ll take these things back to —”

 

“Wait.” Gabe grabbed her wrist, startling her. His warm brown eyes locked on hers, stealing her breath away. He was so handsome. The stubble on his face and chin only made him more appealing. She longed to reach out and rub her hand along his jaw. But that would only embarrass them both.

 

“Sophie, tell me the truth. Now that Walther is leaving, are you truly safe with all those men around?”

 

Even more appealing than his appearance was his concern for her. It made her heart constrict almost painfully.

 

“I feel safe enough, but perhaps I should go with Walther to Hagenheim.” She turned away from Gabe so he wouldn’t see how she was trying to get control of herself. He continued to hold her wrist and she didn’t try to pull away.

 

“Walther isn’t going straight to Hagenheim.”

 

“Oh. He’s not?”

 

“No. He’s going back to collect his wife and children. While you were out of the room he told me he’d sent them to stay with relatives in a village not far from Hohendorf while he came to save you from Malger. He’ll take them back with him to Hagenheim.”

 

“Will he come back here, to the Cottage of the Seven, on his way to Hagenheim?”

 

“I don’t know, but if he does, it will take him at least six days to get back here. Will you be all right?”

 

“I am safe, Gabe. These men are kind and honorable. They will not harm me, so you can rest and not worry.”

 

He relaxed his hold on her wrist and she pulled away.

 

“But thank you,” she whispered, “for caring.”

 

“I do. Very much.”

 

Sophie straightened, holding the tray between them. When the door opened and Bartel came inside, Sophie hurried away.

 

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