The apple is quite unnaturally red. The thought seemed to drift through Sophie’s mind as though seeking somewhere to land. Why did this make her pull her hand away? It was only an apple. If it was redder than usual, what did that matter?
“Go on. Take it.” The old woman picked up the apple and held it out to Sophie. “An apple from my orchard. They’re the sweetest apples in the Empire.”
Sophie reached out her hand again and took the fruit, noticing again that the old woman’s hands didn’t look like the hands of an old woman. In fact, the hands looked familiar.
The old woman hid her hands in the folds of her shawl, as if she realized Sophie was staring at them. Sophie was frustrated about being unable to see her face, which was still mostly hidden underneath the cowl of her shawl.
“Go on. Take a bite,” the old woman encouraged.
Sophie stared at the fruit. It did look good. But something continued to nag at her. There was something almost sinister about the way the woman seemed so eager to give her the fruit. But sometimes people became addled in their old age. Sophie should humor her.
“What is your name, good mother? Perhaps I’ve heard of your orchard.”
The woman jerked her basket impatiently. “Oh, I don’t think so. I only share my fruit with a small number of people.”
Sophie waited for the woman to reveal her name. She was fidgeting with the basket, and Sophie had the urge to punch her hump to see if it was real. A strange thought. But Sophie was more determined than ever to find out the woman’s name and why she was so eager for Sophie to eat the apple. It reminded her of the story the priest often told from Scripture, of the serpent who tempted Eve to eat the forbidden fruit.
“My name? You want to know my name?” The old woman sounded agitated. Her voice wasn’t as raspy now as it had been before, and suddenly Sophie knew. This was no old woman. This was Duchess Ermengard.
Sophie’s hand began to tremble. Her knees went weak, and she took a step back. “I-I think I w-will eat the apple later.” She carefully set it down on the table beside her.
“Eat it now!” The woman stood to her feet, stood tall, no longer bent over, and allowed the shawl to fall from her head. The duchess’s face was without its white powder and was quickly turning red. Her lips twitched, and her eyes were wide and gleamed dangerously down at Sophie from her great height.
“Eat the apple,” she hissed. “I didn’t come all this way to fail now. Eat it, I say.” She picked up the apple and shoved it in Sophie’s face.
“No.” Sophie clenched her teeth and pursed her lips tightly, afraid the duchess would try to force it into her mouth. She backed up another step and the duchess followed her until Sophie’s back was pressed against the wooden counter.
“Stay away from me.” Sophie tried to think how she could defend herself against the duchess. Her stomach clenched in fear, but then anger arose inside her. “You have no right to hurt me. Get out of here.” Her legs trembled, but she would fight this woman if she had to. She couldn’t allow her and Gabe’s efforts to escape the duchess end in tragedy. She had too much to live for.
I will not let you harm me. Heat rose inside her as she stared at the duchess, rage so strong Sophie could barely focus her eyes.
But getting angry wouldn’t help her. She had to think clearly, to get the attention of Bartel and Dolf. She could scream, but Bartel probably wouldn’t hear her from inside the chapel, and Dolf couldn’t hear her at all, even though he was most likely nearby.
“I came all this way to get rid of you,” the duchess rasped, leaning closer, still holding the apple in Sophie’s face. “And I will not be denied.”
Sophie cast her gaze over the room. She would have to knock the duchess down, somehow get past her and to the door. She glanced at the counter but it was cleared off and there was nothing she could use as a weapon.
“Why do you hate me so much?” She would stall the duchess with talking. Meanwhile she hoped Dolf or Bartel would come into the kitchen, as unlikely as that seemed. God, please help me! Send someone or something to help me or show me what to do.
“You think you’re clever, trying to distract me.” The duchess’s lips curled into a sneer. “But I will tell you anyway. I hate you because you are younger, and everyone thinks you are more beautiful. I hate you most of all because your father loved you more than he loved me. He didn’t love me the way he loved you and your precious mother, no matter how I tried to gain his attention. I hate your dead mother, I hate you, and I hate Duke Baldewin. I drove him to despair by making him think you were dead, and it was one of the greatest moments of my life.” She smiled maliciously, her gaze unflinching as she stared into Sophie’s eyes.
Sophie thought again about trying to push the duchess down, about kicking her, fighting her, but the duchess was bigger and taller. How could she overpower her?