She gave Lorencz her coldest smile.
“Your Grace, you can’t think the girl means anything to me. The only woman with whom I am enamored is you.”
She detected fear in the way his scar turned pale. “Good. But your punishment for letting your eye wander is …” She leaned closer. “Why is it that everyone seems to like her?” She tapped her fingernail against her chin, deliberately drawing out the moment to see if he would squirm. Instead, he kept his face impassive. The only indication of his distress was the barely detectable rapid rise and fall of his chest as his breathing quickened. He knew full well what she was capable of.
“She is an insipid little creature. I could break her in half with my bare hands. What do you see in her, dear huntsman?”
“Not me, Your Grace.” Lorencz smiled and shook his head, an attempt to look unconcerned. “She is nothing to me. You are the woman I think about, the one I dream about.”
“Very good.” She stepped forward and placed her hand under his chin, letting her fingernails glide along his skin, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “I am pleased to hear that. And now I have one thing I want you to do for me.”
“Anything, Your Grace.”
“As I told you before, I want you to kill Sophie. And I want you to do it today.”
He blinked several times, as if trying to hide his feelings and not look horrified, but she saw his repulsion. Weakling.
“Of course. How?”
She took her time answering him, savoring how his expression twisted with each moment. She had misjudged him. He had more of a conscience than she had given him credit for.
It was a pity.
There was no purpose in thinking up creative ways to kill the girl, as enjoyable as that would be. Now that it was time for Sophie to die, it would be done expediently.
“Take her into the woods. Tie her up and plunge a dagger into her heart. I don’t really care how you do it, just make sure it’s done without witnesses. Then bury her in the ground where no one can find her.” She poked him in the throat with her fingernail as she emphasized, “No one must find her.”
Lorencz’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Yes, Your Grace.”
She studied him, trying to see into his thoughts. She must have proof the girl was dead, but it had to be something no one else would recognize as belonging to Sophie. Duke Wilhelm would surely come digging around, and if he could find definitive proof of Gabe or the girl’s death, it would ruin everything.
She smiled at Lorencz and pressed all five fingernails of her right hand into his chest. “You will kill her … and you will bring back her heart … to me. If you fail me, you will die. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“You may go.” She raised her brows and flicked her wrist at him.
Lorencz bowed his head and left.
Once she had evidence of the girl’s demise in her hands, she would taunt Gabe with it. Seeing how he was infatuated with her, it would be the perfect mode of torture, outdoing anything she’d previously imagined. Once he was sufficiently broken, she would poison him and let him die a slow, agonizing death as he realized the fairest beauty in the Holy Roman Empire, the girl he’d written songs about, was dead. And Duchess Ermengard would remind him it was because he’d thought Sophie was more beautiful than she. It was all his fault. Because he’d come snooping around when he should have stayed home.
She walked over to the mirror on the wall and stared at herself. She imagined Sophie standing beside her. The girl was younger, her skin was smoother, her smile more sincere, her eyes larger and brighter. Then she imagined Sophie’s eyes closed in death, her skin growing dark gray, then falling away until there was nothing left but a skull.
She laughed. No one could love the girl if she was dead — not Lorencz, not the servants, not even Duke Baldewin.
Sophie would no longer be the fairest.
As soon as Gabe woke up, he knew where he was. The smell of human waste and the damp, cold stone against his body made it quite clear.
His head throbbed. He touched his cheek and looked at his hand. Only a little blood. He pressed on his swollen cheekbone gingerly. He didn’t think the bone was broken.
He groaned as he sat up, resting his head in his hands. How would he get out of this?
God, have I already ruined everything? I’ve barely been here a day and look at me.
His mother always said his lack of caution would lead to trouble. It seemed she was more right than she knew. Sophie had warned him as well, but he’d thought she was overstating the duchess’s dangerous nature and volatility. After all, what reason did that woman have to imprison him?
Cruelty. Jealousy. She didn’t need a reason. She was insane.
The worst thing was that he could no longer help Sophie. How would he rescue her now?
He thought of his mother again and felt a stab of guilt, thinking about how sick with worry she must be. God, please get me out of this.
He was the irresponsible son, the one who sneaked away with his friends when he was supposed to be studying. While Valten was practicing jousting and sword fighting, Gabe was pulling pranks on the old stable master, switching the horses in their stalls and painting white stars on all their foreheads. No wonder Valten’s gifts and standing so surpassed his own. God, forgive me for grieving my mother.
Guilt used to assault him every time his mother looked at him with concern — and sometimes disappointment — in her eyes. But he’d continued with his foolish behavior. The guilt hadn’t been enough to stop him.
He still remembered how devastated his mother had been when his sister Elsebeth drowned at three years old. They’d all been distraught, but his mother had cried for days without stopping. Her eyes, her whole face, became so puffy Gabe almost hadn’t recognized her. He’d been frightened by the depth of her grief, and he’d wondered if she would die too.
Gabe didn’t like remembering his sister’s death. He’d been playing nearby when she’d fallen into the lake. Elsebeth had been splashing at the edge of the water, and he’d assumed she was enjoying herself on the bank. He hadn’t even noticed when the splashing stopped. The rest of the day was fuzzy; only bits and pieces stuck in his memory. He’d been very young, only six years old, but he recalled the heavy weight inside him, a feeling he now knew was guilt. At the time he’d felt as if he’d been bad, as if Elsebeth’s death was his fault. After all, he was her older brother. He should have watched out for her, protected her, saved her.
And he felt the same way now about Sophie. Sophie needed him. He was supposed to keep her from danger. He should have been wise enough and cautious enough not to get thrown into the dungeon. I’ve failed everyone.
He looked around at the bare, cold dungeon and imagined Sophie spending days and nights here. The unfairness of her being locked in this awful place made him burn to exact justice on her behalf, made him long to put his hands around the duchess’s neck and choke her. But here he was, completely helpless to rescue himself, much less Sophie.
The poor girl had been subjected to the horrors of living under the duchess’s thumb her whole life. He wanted to see her rescued from this place, living a happy life in freedom. God, don’t let me fail!
Would Valten appreciate her? Would he cherish her, understand what she’d been through? Gabe would make sure Valten treated her right.
If he got out of this alive.
Right now he wasn’t exactly in a position to make anyone do anything. Sophie might never meet any of Gabe’s family unless he escaped from this dungeon.
Gabe went over to the one window, which was at eye level, and took hold of the bars. He yanked and tugged, hoping to feel them give a little, but the bars didn’t budge. He tugged again. Same result.
One more time, God. He rubbed his hands together. He spit on them and rubbed again. He grabbed the bars, took a deep breath and — Give me the strength — pushed, then pulled, with all his might.
He wanted to believe h
e’d felt them give way just a tiny bit. But he couldn’t lie to himself. They hadn’t budged at all.
“The duchess threw Gabe in the dungeon!”
Sophie stared at Petra, who had just burst into the kitchen, her eyes big and round. Sophie sat down heavily on a stool near the stove.
She would have to save him. She needed Gabe to help her get to Valten, who may not believe she was his betrothed if she simply showed up at his castle declaring she was Duke Baldewin’s daughter. Besides, Gabe had done nothing worthy of death, and Sophie refused to allow the duchess to kill another innocent man. But she’d have to make her escape at the same time. If Sophie helped Gabe escape, the duchess would find out it was her and kill her. It was now or never. The only problem was how to steal the key to the dungeon.
Sophie stood and hurried toward the corridor — and almost ran face-first into Lorencz.
Something about the look on his face — sober and cool, his eyes vacant but intent — made the skin on the back of her neck tingle. She took a step back.
“Sophie. I need you to help me with something.” There was no sign of flirtation in his tone, and his face wore a blank expression.
“What?”
“There’s a dog, a puppy, trapped in the woods. I need you to help me rescue him.”
“Why don’t you rescue him?”
“Because I’m too big to crawl into the hole after him.”
“I don’t believe you.” Besides, she remembered the kiss the huntsman had forced on her, remembered what Darla had boasted about, and knew she’d be a fool to go with him.
The set of his jaw let her know he was angry. “Very well, then. The puppy can stay trapped and starve.” He turned to leave.
“Why don’t you ask Darla to help you?”
He practically sneered. “Jealous, are you?”
I don’t have time for this! “What is it you really want?”
“If you come with me, I will help Gabe escape from the dungeon.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Oh, would you?” Petra spoke up, clasping her hands and looking pleadingly at Lorencz. “I am afraid the duchess will kill the poor boy if you don’t help him.”
“Exactly. She will kill him. But I will let him out — if you come with me.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“Have I ever harmed you, little Sophie?” He raised his brows and held out his hand to her. She stared at it.
“When have you ever cared about a puppy?”
He took a deep breath, his chest slowly moving up, then down. He shrugged. “I admit, I don’t care that much. But I had promised the puppy to a child in the village who asked for a pet.”
“You don’t care about the village children.”
“How do you know that? I have a sister who lives in the village. She has three children, and her children have friends. Why would I not care? Will you help me or not? Gabe is in the dungeon, bleeding and in need of care, and you are wasting time.”
She ignored his hand and gave him a curt nod. He turned and headed out the door, and she followed him out of the castle and into the woods. She felt for her knife, always in her dress pocket, and clasped the handle.
Sophie felt more and more uneasy the farther they walked. She had finally decided to turn back when Lorencz stopped. They were at the clearing where they’d had their picnic.
“The puppy’s over here, on the other side of this tree.”
The cold look on Lorencz’s face made Sophie’s stomach sink. Something was definitely wrong. She clutched the handle of her knife as Lorencz turned away. He took two more steps, but she didn’t follow, only watched as the huntsman walked just past a large tree and fell to his knees.
“Here it is.” He motioned with his hand, staring down at the ground.
He does seem to be peering into a hole. Sophie stepped closer. Lorencz stood and slowly turned to her. A hairbreadth of a second later, his hand flew out and grabbed her throat. She drew the knife out of her pocket and slashed at his arm, but Lorencz blocked it with a blow to her wrist.
“I have no choice,” Lorencz said through clenched teeth. “The duchess will kill me if I don’t do as she commanded.”
Sophie struggled, clawing at the hand that was choking her. Her heart slammed against her ribs. God, don’t let me die. I have to save Gabe. Don’t let me die.
Lorencz grabbed her wrists in one of his enormous hands. She had to get away. She struck at him with her knee, hitting his groin.
Lorencz roared, his eyes wild, his teeth bared. He roared again as he slammed her head against the tree trunk behind her.
No, God, was the only thing she could think to pray before her world went black.
Duchess Ermengard felt a tingle of excitement all the way down to her toes when Lorencz walked into her private chamber. He carried a small bundle wrapped in a dark cloth. The day she had dreamed about had finally come. Why had she kept Sophie alive so long? Her husband was never coming back — the coward — so it wasn’t as if she needed to keep Sophie as a bargaining tool. He couldn’t take Hohendorf away from her any longer.
“What do you have for me?” A gleeful giggle escaped her. She clasped her hands to her throat as Lorencz came closer and extended the cloth bundle toward her. She felt like a girl at Christmastime.
“Your Grace, I have brought you the girl’s heart.” Lorencz looked flushed. His eyelashes were wet and his green eyes glittered.
The man was pathetic. She’d thought he was of harder stock than that. He quickly bowed his head, no doubt to hide his unmanly weakness.
She took the bundle in her hands and unwrapped it. It was still warm and wet. Perhaps she could have it dried, like a piece of fruit, and keep it in a prominent place. Maybe in a decorative box on a shelf. Or if that didn’t work, she could burn it and keep the ashes. She’d also heard of barbarians who ate their enemies’ hearts, believing it would give them their enemies’ strengths.
Not that Sophie had any strength for Ermengard to inherit, but still, she would think about it.
“Thank you, Huntsman. You may go.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.” He bowed out of the room.
Duchess Ermengard walked over to her looking glass hanging on the wall, still holding the heart in her hand. She stared at her reflection, admiring her own beauty. Each feature was perfectly symmetrical and proportionate. Her nose was small but strong. Her lips were plump and red, her teeth straight and white, her eyelashes stained black, and her face and neck powdered a fashionable white. She was beautiful. And there was no one anywhere — not anymore — who rivaled her beauty.
Perhaps she would rid herself of the huntsman now that he had done something he so obviously detested. Besides, he was straying. He had been with that tart Darla. The duchess couldn’t have that. Yes, she would find a new … huntsman. Someone younger and more exciting. After all, the most beautiful woman in the region deserved the best.
Later, after she’d had her meal and her wine, she would tell Gabe of Sophie’s death. She would taunt him and laugh at him and show him the proof that Sophie was dead, that he hadn’t been able to save her. How would that make him feel? Would he cry like a baby? And eventually, she would kill him too, of course. But for now she needed to rest and build up her strength. It was going to be a full day and night.
Chapter 8
God, please get me out of here. Gabe pressed his forehead against the wall as he prayed. His arms ached from tugging on the bars of the window, and his shoulder throbbed from throwing himself against the solid wood door. If you give me another chance, I vow I will not fail Sophie again. I’ll get her out of here and get her safely to Hagenheim. Please help me.
Metal scraped metal on the other side of the door to the dungeon, then the hinges squealed as the door opened.
Thank you! Gabe sprinted toward the door. When he saw Lorencz, he hesitated. Would he need to fight this man to get out? Whatever he had to do, he would do it. And now. This might be his o
nly chance. He prepared to lunge at the huntsman.
To his surprise, Lorencz’s face was flushed. Gabe had never seen him looking so agitated.
“Well?” Lorencz barked. “Come on, man, make haste.”
Gabe took the steps two at a time and leaped out the door, holding up his fists, ready to fight. But Lorencz was already preceding him down the passageway that led out of the castle. Gabe ran after him.
“What is happening?” Gabe asked.
Lorencz didn’t answer until they were outside. Gingerbread was already saddled and standing nearby, placidly grazing beside a second horse, a black stallion he presumed was Lorencz’s.
“I don’t have time to explain everything. Sophie is in danger. If you don’t get to her now, the duchess will kill her.”
“Where is she?”
“You should know the area well, seeing as you likely followed us there when Sophie and I picnicked.” Lorencz raised one eyebrow. “She’s tied to a tree in the clearing.”
“What do you mean, ‘she’s tied to a tree’?” Gabe grabbed the front of Lorencz’s tunic and clenched his fist.
Lorencz pushed him away, and Gabe stumbled back into his horse, who whinnied and tried to nip his shoulder.
“The duchess ordered me to kill her, but I didn’t. Now get on your horse, untie Sophie, and ride as fast and as far from this place as you can.”
“I need to get a horse for Sophie.”
“No.” Lorencz seized his shoulder roughly and turned him around. “Get on your horse and set off. Now. You can’t go near the stable without being seen, not with all the guards milling around there. And as soon as Duchess Ermengard finds out you’re not in the dungeon and Sophie’s not dead, they’ll be hunting you. You have to get Sophie to safety.”
Lorencz practically shoved him into the saddle, then mounted his own black horse.
Gabe caught his eye. “Thank you. For your help.”
Lorencz looked back at him grimly. Gabe wondered where the huntsman would go, with just his horse and the clothes on his back.