Fairy Tale Romance Collection

  She continued reciting. The parable ended with the poor and lame and blind being compelled to come to the feast, while the rich and those who had refused the invitation were excluded.

  I will prepare a feast for you in the presence of your enemies.

  Sophie listened, and the words came to her again. I will prepare a feast for you in the presence of your enemies.

  Sophie prayed, God, I believe you will protect me from Duchess Ermengard, my enemy, and bless me in spite of the duchess’s efforts to destroy me. You will prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemy.

  Gabe hadn’t said anything while Sophie kept her eyes closed, listening, praying, and thinking.

  She began to recite again, and she came to the parable of the lost sheep. Jesus spoke of the man who left his ninety-nine sheep to go out and search for the one that was lost. That made Sophie think of Gabe, leaving his comfortable home to come and find her. When she came to the end of the chapter, she asked, “Are you rich, Gabe?”

  Gabe looked down at her, his brows raised. “My family is wealthy. But I’m the second son. Valten will inherit the wealth, as well as the right to rule.” He shook his head and smiled faintly. “Although I am rich compared to some, second sons aren’t rich.”

  “How then will you live?”

  “I will marry Brittola. Her father has promised an estate to her and her husband. But I’ve always expected to have to make my own way. I once fancied becoming a builder, perhaps a master mason, but I haven’t applied myself to my studies as I ought. Up until now, I’m afraid I’ve behaved rather irresponsibly.”

  At least he was honest. “Planning and overseeing the building of things. Is this what a master mason does?”

  He nodded.

  Was he thinking of Brittola, his intended bride? Sophie changed the topic of conversation.

  “What do you think will happen to Petra and Roslind?” She hoped the duchess wouldn’t mistreat them even more because she no longer had Sophie to take out her wrath on.

  “I don’t know.” Gabe was quiet for a moment, then said softly, “Perhaps Valten will come back for them, if you wish it.”

  “Oh yes! Do you think he would?”

  “I think he would.”

  Sophie thought for a moment. “Valten must be brave then. And kind.”

  Gabe was quiet, so she glanced up at him. He didn’t meet her eye. “He is. He is very brave and strong and capable of rescuing your friends. And I imagine the king will have something to say about the way Duchess Ermengard has treated you after Valten informs him.”

  Sophie decided to change the subject again. “Tell me more about your family and your life as a child.”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “Do you truly like hearing about it so much?”

  “Yes! It fascinates me.” She liked to imagine what it was like to have a real family, and he could tell her. Besides, she wanted to know more about the family she was marrying into, more about her husband to be, and most of all, more about the mother of this family.

  Gabe told her stories about all six of his brothers and sisters, but he didn’t mention the sister who died.

  “Will your mother have more children?”

  He shrugged. “It’s possible, I suppose.” He smiled down at her. “Now it’s your turn, little sister.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have to tell me some stories about you when you were a child.”

  Sophie shook her head. “My stories aren’t as interesting as yours.”

  “Come now. I’ve told you all my family’s funniest quirks and antics. You must entertain me for a while.”

  It was true that she felt she knew his family pretty well now. She even felt she knew Valten. He sounded like a serious child, but even he had had his share of boyish adventures. Any maiden would want to marry him, no doubt. He had everything: wealth, power, fame — especially fame, since he was a tournament champion — a wonderful family, and he would one day be Duke of Hagenheim. He was in a position to make his wife famous as well. But those things weren’t what Sophie had dreamed of. She did not want wealth or fame or power, but simply to be loved, to be cherished, to feel safe, cared for, and protected. She wanted someone to be kind to her and love her.

  But a person didn’t always get what they wanted. Sophie knew that all too well. Would Valten love her and cherish her?

  “My stories are mostly sad … things you wouldn’t want to hear.”

  “No putting me off,” Gabe said as he guided Gingerbread up yet another mountain trail. “We have nothing else to occupy us, and I can handle sad. So start talking.”

  Sophie couldn’t help smiling. “Very well. You asked for it.” She would soften her stories as best she could, especially the parts about being hated and mistreated by Duchess Ermengard. Instead, she’d try to mostly talk about the happier stories of Mama Petra and her “sisters,” the other maids.

  Gabe listened while Sophie told of climbing trees and swinging on vines while the duchess was having her afternoon nap. She told of one of the stable men falling and breaking his leg and how Sophie, an eleven-year-old girl at the time, had set the bone with two sticks. The man had immediately asked her to marry him. Sophie laughed when she told the story, but she wasn’t laughing at the time, she said. Instead, she had shaken her fist at him and dared him to come near her with such talk, warning him that she would break his other leg if he did so.

  She told of rescuing a maiden who’d fallen into an old, dry well. The maiden was unharmed, but the duchess had refused to send a guard to help get her out. So Sophie and another servant had sneaked some rope out of the stable and pulled her up. The duchess had locked Sophie in the dungeon for a day and a night for that.

  Sophie certainly had courage. But the duchess locked her in the dungeon for the merest infractions. The duchess’s every whim controlled the castle, and although Sophie had defied her many times, it also sounded as if Sophie had also tried her best to appease her.

  She described a time when, at thirteen years old, her long black hair had been cut up to her ears, because the duchess had flown into a rage. She told about keeping her precious portion of the Bible hidden until the duchess was asleep, only taking it out at night and reading it to the other maids that slept with her in the small chamber off the kitchen. She told about diving into the river to save a sackful of puppies the duchess had ordered destroyed. That was what had gotten her thrown into the dungeon the week before Gabe came.

  Her face got sadder as she continued to talk. Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to make her talk about her childhood, but he felt a desire to know all about her, all her stories, no matter how sad they were.

  “You must hate the duchess. I know I hate her right now.”

  “Oh, no!” Sophie got a grave look on her face. She turned and stared at him in a way that forced him to stare back into her blue, blue eyes. “I don’t hate the duchess. I feel sad for her. She is a very miserable person. You mustn’t hate her, either. You mustn’t hate anyone. God says we must love our enemies. The priest said so.”

  “Can you honestly say you don’t hate the duchess, after all she’s done to you?”

  “I don’t. I won’t let myself. I mustn’t.” She pursed her lips into a grim line.

  His heart ached for her. She was so strong and brave, all alone in the world with no one to protect her. No one but God, apparently.

  He couldn’t imagine anyone God would want to protect more.

  “Promise me,” she said. “Promise you won’t hate the duchess. Tell God you forgive her.”

  Gabe took a deep breath and looked into her eyes again. Was she so concerned about his soul? “I promise.” He closed his eyes. Gingerbread was going along an easy trail. “God, I forgive her for all her cruelty, but I know you will make it right in the end. ‘“Vengeance is mine,” says the Lord,’ ” he quoted.

  Sophie frowned. “That doesn’t sound so forgiving.”

  “That’s the best I can do, I’m afrai
d.” He saw she was still worried, so he smiled and said, “Don’t worry, Sophie. It’s human nature to be angry at someone who’s been as cruel to you as the duchess has. You should forgive her, but you should forgive yourself too, if you feel angry and unforgiving sometimes. God understands. He’ll help you.”

  She stared down at the ground. When she looked up, her expression was such a mixture of doubt and hope. “What makes you think so?”

  “The Bible says, ‘There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.’ ”

  “Oh. I guess I never had that part. What else does it say?”

  He chuckled. “A lot of things. It says if we confess our sins, God will forgive us.”

  She got quiet again. They headed up a steeper part of the path, and he leaned forward. Sophie leaned too, and held on to the pommel of the saddle to keep herself steady. Her head was pressed against his chest and her silky hair brushed his chin. He couldn’t help his arms brushing hers as he held the reins and guided the horse up the rocky trail.

  Gabe was flirting with disaster. At least that’s what his father had once told him about spending time with a woman he knew he couldn’t marry. His father had also said that Gabe should never, even under the most innocent circumstances, spend the night with a woman. He’d broken that rule last night.

  And now Gabe understood why his father had warned him. He felt himself on the verge of thoughts and feelings that should never be, of being as irresponsible as everyone believed him to be.

  Should Gabe have waited and let Valten come to find Sophie when his leg was healed? If Valten and his father and several knights had come, they could have rescued not only Sophie, but Petra and Roslind as well. Had it been against God’s will for Gabe to come? Was Gabe creating a problem for Sophie? Everyone would hear about them being alone together. Would it cause Sophie’s reputation to be disparaged? Reproach that could have been avoided if he’d listened to his father?

  Gabe thought back to the day he decided to come search for Sophie himself. He’d felt such an urgency, a lack of peace whenever he thought about waiting, but in truth, he hadn’t worried about whether he was doing the right thing when he left. He hadn’t sought God’s will like he should have. And some of his motives weren’t exactly pure.

  In his defense, though, the old woman, Pinnosa, had said it was urgent, that Sophie was in great danger. And now he knew it was true. In fact, the duchess had ordered Lorencz to kill her. If Gabe had waited and let Valten come to rescue her, she might be dead now.

  But perhaps the duchess had decided to kill her because of him, because she discovered he was the son of Duke Wilhelm and realized the duke would be coming for her himself.

  That thought made him sick. His haste and irresponsibility had put Sophie in danger.

  What if it hadn’t been God’s will for him to come? What if it had been Gabe’s impatience, his not caring if it was right, his simply wanting to go off on his own quest to prove himself?

  God, forgive me for wanting to be the one to rescue her. But if Valten made one single disparaging remark about Sophie … God, I’m sorry. Please don’t let Sophie get hurt.

  As they came down the other side of the mountain, Sophie caught her breath at the sight before her, at the treeless, wide-open space, an entire mountainside covered in wildflowers. She had never seen anything like it. The only flowers she’d ever seen in her life were small forest flowers, mostly tiny white ones. She’d never seen anything like these red-orange blossoms that carpeted the ground in front of her.

  Just then, the sun came out from behind a cloud and shone on the beautiful, grassy, flower-covered meadow, lighting the red blossoms and setting them afire.

  Sophie tilted her head up to catch the rays on her face. Her eyes closed, she realized she was revisiting her dream. Maybe she was dreaming.

  “These flowers are so beautiful,” she breathed. “What are they called?”

  “Mohnblumen. You’ve never seen wild poppies before?” His voice conveyed surprise.

  He let the horse amble slowly. She breathed in the warm air, thanking God for the sun, for the warmth, for this moment of exquisite freedom. Then she stared down at the flowers below them, so close and yet too far to reach.

  “Would you like to stop and pick some?” he asked gently.

  He helped her dismount, and she knelt reverently toward a flower and placed her fingers on the surprisingly tiny stem. She picked it, then held it up to her face. The petals were almost transparent. How wonderful that such a delicate thing could provide such vivid color. Sophie studied it, breathing deeply, and reveling in the manifestation of her dream. She closed her eyes and let her mind empty itself of all thought except for this beautiful meadow, her dream come true.

  When she opened her eyes, Gabe was standing a few feet away, his fist full of the red flowers. Her gaze met his and she read understanding in his face. But how could he understand how she felt? He’d experienced freedom his entire life. He’d known what it was like to ride out on his horse and discover meadows and wildflowers and feel the sun on his face. But he knew the things she had gone through, even knew of her hopes and dreams. His expression was sympathetic, and it made her heart ache with some new emotion, pleasant and painful at the same time. It became hard to breathe, and she both wished he would close the gap between them, and feared it at the same time.

  A feeling of guilt hit her. She turned away from Gabe’s eyes and started for the horse, who had dropped his head to graze.

  “We’d better go. I don’t want to delay us with my foolishness.” She reached up and grabbed the pommel of the saddle, and suddenly Gabe was standing beside her.

  He held the flowers out to her.

  The air felt thick between them. She was afraid to look him in the eye but couldn’t resist. His look was serious and compelling, as if he wanted to tell her something. Her heart was beating so hard it seemed to vibrate her chest.

  Why was she being so foolish? It was very unlikely that Gabe was feeling anything like what she was feeling. And she wouldn’t want him to. She was betrothed to Valten.

  She took the flowers from his hand and he lifted her by her waist to set her in the saddle.

  Gabe took the reins and hoisted himself up, then set Gingerbread in motion. “There are a lot more meadows like this.”

  Sophie stared down at the flowers Gabe had picked for her. Gradually, her heart slowed. She kept herself from looking up at Gabe. The motion of the horse, the warmth of the sun, the sight of the beautiful flowers in her hand, and the brush of his arms around her, holding on to the reins, comforted her into a sense of peace and contentment.

  Her brother. Gabe was her brother. He was taking her to Hagenheim and safety. That’s all.

  They continued through the meadow and Gabe picked up the pace, now that they were on more level ground. They could hear the river to their west but couldn’t see it, as it was surrounded by trees. Sophie looked all around her at the beautiful trees — such variety compared to Hohendorf — the green grass, and more wildflowers of purple, pink, and yellow.

  “Let me know if you need to stop,” Gabe said.

  “I am well,” she murmured.

  “I’m thinking of hunting a hare for our dinner.”

  Sophie was glad. They had precious little left of the bundle Petra had supplied.

  Sophie fingered the bouquet and regretted the feelings she’d had for Gabe when he’d picked it for her. Those feelings were only foolishness brought on by her gratitude to Gabe for saving her from the duchess, and because they were alone together. “We haven’t seen any houses or people. Aren’t there any villages or towns around here?”

  “Not many. We’ll see more when we get closer to Hagenheim.”

  She asked more questions about his siblings. His family was always a safe subject, and he always seemed to have more to tell her. Soon they were laughing companionably. She even grew comfortable enough to ask about Brittola. “What does Brittola look like?”

  “Sh
e has blonde hair and green eyes.”

  “Is she tall?”

  “About your height, I suppose. Although she may have grown since I saw her.”

  “Does she write letters to you?”

  “Rarely. She wrote a few times after our visit a year ago, but I haven’t heard from her in months.”

  If you were my betrothed, I’d write to you every day. Sophie was glad she hadn’t said that aloud. What an awkward silence that would have resulted in.

  “Perhaps she doesn’t like to write.”

  “She told me as much.”

  “Do you write to her?”

  “Whenever she writes to me, I always answer. I’m afraid I haven’t been any better a correspondent than she has.”

  “I suppose Brittola had tutors and learned to read and write, everything a well-bred lady should.”

  “I suppose. Although she did tell me that she wasn’t a very good student and often pretended to be sick or ignored her tutor. Which surprised me, because she seemed so docile and meek when she visited Hagenheim.”

  “It is easy to pretend sometimes,” Sophie murmured, thinking of her own pretending. But other times, it was quite hard. “I am sure she must have learned to dance as well.” Sophie had always wanted to learn how to dance. Not that she’d ever had the occasion to do it, but she’d dreamed of having many opportunities once she was able to get away from the duchess.

  “Yes, she knows all the dances.”

  They were silent for a few moments. Finally, Sophie said, “It will be embarrassing for your brother if his betrothed does not know how to dance.”

  “We’ll teach you. My family knows how to play the songs and can teach you all of the necessary steps in only a day or two.”

  Sophie felt herself blush with pleasure. She imagined learning to dance with her betrothed’s family looking on, swirling around the floor holding Gabe’s —

  No, of course not Gabe’s hand. She would learn holding Valten’s hand.

  Learning to dance would be enjoyable. And by the time she became a duke’s wife, she would know how to dance very well and he would not have to be ashamed of her. She hoped.