The Princess Spy

“That is unkind, Steffan.” Mother’s look had changed from stern to shocked. “Apologize to your sister.”

 

 

Her mother didn’t say it was untrue, only that it was unkind.

 

“But, Mother, everyone says it.”

 

“That is enough. You will not speak of your sister that way. Besides, most secrets should not be kept. We don’t keep secrets in this family.”

 

“I am sorry, Mother.” Steffan gave his mother his best contrite face. When Mother looked away, he shifted his gaze to Margaretha, and the corners of his mouth went up in a smirk.

 

Margaretha was tempted to give him a quick cuff to the head while Mother was looking away. She decided instead to mollify his teasing by admitting, “I do talk too much sometimes.” Margaretha allowed Adela to take her by the hand and lead her to the backgammon board. She shook her head at Steffan. “But I can’t help it that your mind is too slow to process all my words. It is your fault for not stretching your mind with reading and studying — ”

 

“There you go again, talking more than a person’s brain can take in. You couldn’t stop talking if you tried.”

 

“I certainly could.”

 

Wolfgang laughed, and Steffan joined him. They laughed so hard, the two brothers grabbed each other’s shoulders, holding on as if they would fall down laughing if they didn’t.

 

“That is enough,” her mother said. “Margaretha is lovely, and therefore her thoughts and her speech are lovely. Anyone with a pure heart may speak as much as they like and their words will always be welcome.”

 

“Thank you, Mother.” She smiled and pretended her brother’s words didn’t bother her. If only she could be quiet and demure, like her sister Kirstyn, or wise in everything she said, like Mother. Even her sister-in-law, Gisela, seemed to command attention, and what she said always seemed pertinent to the conversation. They did not change the subject abruptly, as Margaretha often did, or forget to ask the other person about themselves.

 

Margaretha sat down opposite Adela, who was readying the game board. Her brothers moved closer to her, glancing several times at their mother, who was staring down at the chess game between her and Kirstyn.

 

Steffan made his way to Margaretha’s side, bent down close to her ear, and whispered, “Aren’t you planning to tell Mother about the mad fellow in the Frau Lena’s chamber? I’ll wager you can’t keep it a secret, even though Mother would disapprove of you visiting him.”

 

“What do you know of it?” Margaretha caught him by the collar of his tunic.

 

“I was walking by the healer’s chamber and saw you talking with him. The blacksmith’s apprentice, Frederick, saw when they brought him to Frau Lena. He told me the man took a blow to the head and now he is mad. He raves like a lunatic, and no one can understand what he says.”

 

“You don’t know anything,” Margaretha whispered, while her mother was talking to Kirstyn. “I can understand him perfectly because he speaks English. You only know German and are ignorant because you neglect your studies.” Oh no. She probably shouldn’t have said anything about him knowing English. Colin would be angry with her if he knew. She hoped she hadn’t put him in danger.

 

Steffan snorted. “No one around here speaks English.”

 

“Leave me alone, Steffan.” Margaretha was determined to ignore him as she sat down to begin her game of backgammon with her little sister. Did people laugh at her behind her back? Did they hide things from her? So many times she felt she was the last person to find out what was going on.

 

It must be true. No one wanted to tell her anything because she would repeat it, even without meaning to.

 

Her face burned as she went through the motions of the game, rolling the dice and moving her game pieces.

 

Little brothers were a plague. But Steffan didn’t know how much his words hurt her. Besides, everything he said was true. Talking too much was one of her worst faults, no matter how much her mother tried to make her not feel bad about it.

 

Did her suitors think she talked too much? Would any of them have wanted to marry her if she was not the daughter of Duke Wilhelm? Could anyone overlook her faults enough to truly love her?

 

What if she married, but her husband thought she was annoying? What if he stopped loving her because she talked too much?

 

She couldn’t think of anything worse.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter

 

8

 

 

 

Margaretha walked toward the stables, hoping a ride on her favorite mare would take her mind off the stranger, Colin.

 

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