Rose picked up the bucket and opened the door, hunching her shoulders and bracing herself against the cold wind. Wolfie jumped up from his corner and followed her out. He seemed exhilarated by the bitter cold, standing with his face to the wind then running around in circles, jumping and barking. The cold had the opposite effect on Rose. Most days, after taking her noon meal in the kitchen, she longed to curl up with a blanket and take a nap. Sleep was the only friend that could temporarily take away the pain of losing Wilhelm’s love.
She was still sleeping in Frau Geruscha’s room, only going inside her own chamber in the light of day to get her clothes. Even walking past the door made her shiver as she remembered the horrible night she had seen the demonic creature by her bed. Whether it was merely a dream or not, she wasn’t sure. She only knew she never wanted to see it again.
She reached the well, let the bucket down, and drew it up again, dripping with ice-cold water. She pulled it off the side of the stone wall and it tilted more than she had intended, spilling a big splash onto her shoe. The icy water immediately soaked through to her foot.
Rose sucked in a quick breath as the aching cold bit into her toes.
Wolfie barked, as though to encourage her. She lugged the heavy bucket back to the tower.
“Oh, child.” Frau Geruscha emerged from the storage room. “You didn’t have to get the water. Let me find a stable boy to do that chore for us, now that it’s winter.”
Rose shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I? I have nothing else to do.” She pulled off her wet shoe and rubbed her half-frozen foot.
“Why don’t you write another story? You could give it to Lady Osanna, and it would cheer her. She’s been so low since her father’s death. Laughter is what she needs now. The Proverbs say, ‘A merry heart doeth good like medicine.’”
“Yes, but the Proverbs also say, ‘Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful; and the end of that mirth is heaviness.’”
“Oh, Rose, you love to best me with the Scriptures.” Frau Geruscha smiled and shook her head.
Rose felt a prick of guilt. “Do I do that?”
Her mistress laughed good-naturedly. “No, child. I mind it not. The Word of God has an answer for everything, and you have a fine head for remembering it.”
Why was Frau Geruscha always in such an infernal good mood lately?
Moncore hid in a cart that had stopped in the Marktplatz, as he’d overheard its owner say that his destination was the castle. The guard recognized the owner and waved him on through. Once inside the gate, Moncore slipped out unnoticed. He stood watching Rose fetch water from the well, and he cursed her faithful dog. If it weren’t for that animal, he would dash in now and wreak his havoc on her world. Well, he’d simply have to find a way to separate dog from girl.
He couldn’t wait. He wanted to hurt her, to hurt them all, and he was ready to do it now.
It had been a week since Wilhelm had chased the man who looked like Moncore, and no sightings of him had been made since. Perhaps he had found a way to escape over the town wall. Wilhelm himself had, every day, stood at either the castle gate or the town gate watching the guards check every person coming in and going out, but the effort so far had been fruitless.
Wilhelm, Sir Georg, and Sir Christoff strode to the stable where they would get on their horses and go patrol the town. As he passed the window in the Great Hall, Wilhelm’s eyes darted to Frau Geruscha’s chamber door. He stopped short when Rose appeared with Wolfie and her bucket. He watched her turn the windlass and then struggle with the full bucket of water. An urge pressed him to go to her and carry her load for her, but he held back. It would make for an awkward moment for both of them. They hadn’t spoken since his proposal. And besides, by the time he reached her she would be almost to her door.
He couldn’t help recalling another time when he had taken the bucket from her, when he had gone to get his stitches out. He wished he could injure himself again just so he’d have another excuse to be with her.
He let out a sigh of disgust. He had to stop thinking about Rose. He was getting married in two weeks, meeting his bride in seven days, and he didn’t want adultery—lusting after Rose in his heart—to be his first sin against the wife God was giving him.
Rose disappeared inside the chamber.
“Your Grace?”
Wilhelm turned. Georg and Christoff stood behind him.
“Ready to set out?” Sir Georg asked.
Wilhelm nodded and led the way.
Moncore’s joints stiffened as he crouched behind the blacksmith’s stall. His extremities felt nearly frozen. The voices in his head attacked and mocked him. He had to get his revenge now—now—or it would be too late.
A potter with his cart stopped in the middle of the courtyard and called out to the guard. He decided it was as much distraction as he could hope for. He had to act, to stop the voices.
He stood and began walking at a normal pace toward the southwest tower. He reached the door without anyone acknowledging him. He opened it barely a crack and peeked in.
Good. He didn’t see anyone inside except the dog. He leered at the animal, hoping it would take the bait and come to him.
The dog laid his ears back and growled low in his throat. Moncore taunted him with a menacing stare. Finally, the shaggy animal stood and crept toward him, crouching low and growling quietly as he went.