When Petra’s sobs had subsided and she’d wiped her face with the handkerchief Sophie gave her, Sophie asked, “Why did you stay?”
“Because I loved him. And I loved you. I was afraid for you both when I realized how insane and cruel your stepmother was. Your father rarely saw me, as I stayed in the kitchen, and I was often so shy around him I averted my face. But when I saw him, I noticed he began to look even more haggard than he had when he’d been grieving your mother. That witch, Ermengard, was killing him, probably poisoning him, or at the very least torturing him with her evil nature. I wanted so much to help him, to help you, but what could I do, short of killing her? Perhaps that would have been the kindest thing I could have done, but I didn’t have the courage.” Petra buried her face in the handkerchief.
Sophie patted her shoulder. Roslind had lain down on her bed and fallen asleep. No doubt they were both exhausted from their long, hard trip. But Sophie had to hear the rest of the story.
“Pinnosa and I believed Ermengard must have given you a sleeping potion, hoping to convince Baldewin you were dead. You were only two years old … They went through the entire funeral rites. The priest assumed you were dead too. And immediately following the funeral, Baldewin … disappeared. No one knows what happened to him. I believe Ermengard poisoned him as well.
“Ermengard must have recovered your body, however, because the next morning, you were found in your bed. That’s when a few of the household servants, including myself, realized you were alive. Ermengard got rid of all of them except Pinnosa and me. I don’t know why she kept us on. Maybe she thought because we worked in the kitchen we wouldn’t realize who you were. But the fact that you were alive never made it beyond the castle.”
“Until Pinnosa told Gabe and his father.” Sophie’s heart was pounding.
“Yes.”
“But what happened to my father? How did she kill him so quickly?”
“I don’t know. Ermengard told everyone he was dead, but there was no funeral, no body. I used to believe he was alive, but I didn’t know where he would have gone, and I didn’t know where to search for him, so I stayed at Hohendorf to protect you. With your father gone, you became my reason to stay.”
“Do you think my father could still be alive?”
“I don’t want to get your hopes up, Sophie … It’s been so long. I don’t think he is.”
“But he could be,” Sophie said. And he thinks I’m dead.
Petra touched her arm. “Perhaps I should have waited to tell you.”
A heavy weight settled over Sophie, but she didn’t want Petra to see how sad her story had made her feel. “I am well. Thank you for telling me the truth.” She forced a smile. Petra, a lady, and in love with Sophie’s father. Somehow it didn’t seem so strange. It was almost as if she had always known.
Petra settled down on her own bed and was soon asleep. Sophie lay awake, praying, “Please bring Gabe back tomorrow. And please let my father be alive.”
Valten kept his head up and his eyes alert, scanning the surrounding forest while the horses drank from the slow-moving river.
As soon as Walther had arrived in Hagenheim with Gabe’s letter, confirming that Walther had helped Gabe and would make an excellent addition to Duke Wilhelm’s guard, Valten and his father had extracted from him the entire story of how Gabe had escaped from Duchess Ermengard with a scullery maid named Sophie who was believed to be Duke Baldewin’s daughter. Since then Valten had only been able to think about one thing, and that was getting to Sophie and bringing her back to Hagenheim where she would be safe.
Of course, Valten couldn’t be certain that this scullery maid was Sophia Breitenbach, the daughter of Duke Baldewin Breitenbach, but it seemed very likely.
Father was concerned about Gabe. Walther had informed them that Gabe had been injured and was unable to ride, though he was being tended by a monk at a cottage of seven … rather uncommon men. But Valten believed that Gabe would be well. He was strong and young and should mend quickly. At least he had kept Sophie safe and unharmed. Valten wouldn’t admit it to his father, but he was impressed Gabe hadn’t gotten both himself and the girl killed. He should never have attempted such a dangerous rescue by himself, against their father’s advice. Sophie wasn’t his betrothed, after all. She belonged to Valten. And he would have gone after her in due time.
He glanced down at his leg. The healer said the break wasn’t completely healed, but it seemed perfectly sound to him. He wore a splint because otherwise his father, on advice of the healer, would not have let him come on this errand to fetch Sophie and Gabe.
It had become much too dark to ride, so tomorrow, Valten, his father, and six of their strongest knights would let Walther resume his lead as they rode at a hurried pace through the trees, continuing to follow a small path south.
South to find the Cottage of the Seven, his reckless little brother, and his own betrothed — the beautiful Sophia.
Tomorrow he would meet his bride.