Page 12 of The Golden Braid

She nodded.

  “I shall write Lady Rose a letter, listing your virtues and skills.” He reached down and drew up a piece of real paper—much crisper than parchment—and found a reed pen. “Let’s see, what shall I say? You are hardheaded . . .”

  “Don’t you dare.” But this brought a smile to her face that she was obviously trying to suppress.

  “And terrified of letting anyone see your hair . . .” He found his ink and writing board.

  “You wouldn’t say that!” She self-consciously twisted her long hair and then flung it over her shoulder. It was like molten gold, flowing over her shoulders, reaching all the way to the floor. The silky texture of it shimmered and floated with her every movement . . . Mesmerizing. No wonder her mother made her cover it.

  He wrenched his gaze from her hair, dipped his pen in the inkwell, and started writing. “You have very strong ideas about propriety.”

  She huffed. “If you will not write a proper letter to help me get the position, then I pray you not write her at all.”

  “I shall write to my lady and tell her that you will make a hardworking, honest, clever maidservant.”

  “Thank you.”

  Rapunzel read the German Bible while he wrote the letter. When he finished, he fanned it in the air to dry the ink, then folded it. Rapunzel held his wax stick close to the flame of the fire in the grate, and then he sealed the letter with the wax and imprinted it with the seal on a ring he wore.

  While the hot wax was cooling, she asked, “What sort of person is Lady Rose? I believe you said she was kind.”

  “She is very kind.”

  “Even to maidservants?”

  “Of course. Lady Rose is not like other noble-born ladies I have met. She is kind and thoughtful to everyone, from visiting dukes and duchesses, to her own children, to the pages and squires, to the lowliest maids in the kitchen. She is a virtuous lady who believes in every word of the Holy Writ. There is no other lady like her, I would avow.”

  She was gazing at him with raised brows. “You do think very highly of her.”

  He felt his cheeks flush. He didn’t want anyone, even Rapunzel, to know just how highly he had thought of her, when he had been a mere boy, missing his mother. It could even be said that he had been a little in love with her.

  “Everyone thinks very highly of Lady Rose.”

  “What must I do to make her approve of me?”

  “Only be yourself. She will approve of you.”

  She looked suspicious of his compliment.

  “As long as Lady Rose sees you treating others kindly and performing your duties, she will approve of you.”

  She nodded. “I suppose I should go.”

  He handed her the letter. She took it, then said, “Do all knights marry noble-born ladies?”

  Why was she asking him that? Perhaps because she was having tender feelings for him after he had saved her a second time from that brigand.

  “Not all knights marry noble-born ladies, though most do. The reason I wish to marry a noble lady is because my father did something terrible when I was a boy, and my older brother blamed me for it. He has hated me since I was very young and refuses to allow me any inheritance. And since I cannot allow my idiot brother to best me—he has inherited the family estates, which includes a large castle and much land—I plan to marry an heiress with great property.”

  “That hardly seems like a good reason. No, I would not say that you must marry an heiress or a noble-born lady, just because you want to best your brother.”

  Heat bubbled up from his chest into his forehead. “You don’t understand what my brother said to me, how he believes that God has made him superior to me because he is older. If I marry a noblewoman, and if I gain lands and wealth, it will prove that God is favoring me at least as much as him.” When he said it aloud, it didn’t sound as strong an argument as it did in his head. “It doesn’t matter if you understand. That is the way it must be. I will marry an heiress or I shall not marry at all.”

  She frowned slightly but said nothing. What was she thinking? And why in creation did he care?

  “Besides that, I can’t marry someone who is expecting me to love them, and noblewomen usually marry for political reasons, not for love.”

  “What? You don’t want to love your wife?” Her eyes were wide.

  “That’s not what I meant. But my father . . . if you knew what he did, you would understand.”

  “What did he do?”

  He had never told anyone, except Lady Rose, when he was just a boy and still grieving what had happened. “My father . . .” He wasn’t sure why he was telling her. “My father killed my mother. And then . . . he killed himself by leaping from a tower window.”

  Her eyes went wide and her lips formed an O as she stared at him, finally clamping her hand over her mouth. “How?” she whispered.

  “He hit her, then pushed her down the stairs. She was dead, her neck broken, by the time she reached the bottom.” He tore his eyes away from the compassion in her expression. He spoke quickly, to finish the story. “They had been arguing about whether to send for me and bring me home for Christmas. My father wanted to leave me at Keiterhafen, where I was a page, but my mother wanted to bring me home.”

  That old familiar pain weighed down his heart—shame, guilt, sorrow. It overshadowed him like a dark cloud. He shouldn’t have told her.

  “That is very sad. You must have been . . . devastated.”

  He shrugged. It could not hurt him anymore, surely. He was a grown man now. “My brother blamed me, which hurt me very much since I was but a boy and looked up to him as my older brother.” An invisible fist seemed to squeeze his throat. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  “I still don’t understand how that keeps you from marrying someone who expects you to love them.”

  Wasn’t it obvious? “He was my father. He had a terrible temper. When he was angry, he would hit anyone who got in his way. He killed his favorite hunting dog just because the dog let a fox get away. He beat me, he beat the servants, he beat his wife. And I am his son.”

  She still didn’t look as if this was explanation enough, so he said, “I have his blood in my veins. If he would beat his wife and children, the people he loved, then I would do it too.”

  She shook her head. “I know that is what people think. If a man is a thief, his child will also be a thief. If a woman lies with other men besides her husband, her daughters will do the same. If a man beats his wife, his sons will beat their wives. But don’t you think that has more to do with what their children grow up seeing their parents do?” She tilted her head to one side and put her hands on her hips. “How old were you when you left home?”

  He growled and shrugged.

  “No, this is important. Tell me how old you were.”

  “I was seven years old, the same as most boys who are sent away to be pages and to train to be knights.”

  “Yes. You were a child of seven who went to live at Hagenheim Castle, who saw how kind Lady Rose was. You spent more time with Duke Wilhelm and his sons than you did with your own father. Now, I’ve given this a lot of thought.” She wrinkled her brow slightly as she stared down at her hands. “My mother abandoned me when I was very small, but I would never do such a thing to my child. The only mother I have ever known would also never abandon her child. She has loved me, and I will love my own child—if I should ever have a child.

  “And you, you will not be like your father. You will remember what he did and you will strive to not be like him. You will remember the good example you saw in Duke Wilhelm, and you will choose to be a kind husband, not a cruel one. We all have a choice, after all, to be our own person, to be the person we wish to be.”

  His heart swelled in his chest just as it had the first night he had listened to her sing. He had never heard this reasoning before. What if she was right? They stared at each other. His mind was churning.

  “But the fact remains that I must marry an heiress. Otherw
ise I will have nothing, which is exactly what my brother told me. He hated me and wished me to perish. I think he might have killed me if a servant had not sent me off to Hagenheim in the middle of the night.” He wasn’t sure why he even remembered that. He hadn’t thought of it in years, and he’d never told anyone.

  “I am so sorry that happened to you.” Her eyes began to shimmer. Was she about to cry again?

  “It was a long time ago, and I have lived a very good and interesting life. I have fought in tournaments with the greatest champion of all time, Valten Gerstenberg, the Earl of Hamlin, and I have had the time and resources to be as much of a scholar as I wanted to be, studying the Holy Writ and learning languages. I will not have you pitying me.”

  She only stared, her eyes still misty.

  “Now, if you do not go back home, I am afraid your mother will never let you leave the house again. And you without your head covering.”

  “Oh, yes, my wimple. I must go find it.” She stood up but seemed unable to move.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  She just stood there, her mouth open as she stared at the doorway. She had just been attacked by a madman. Was she afraid to walk back through the woods alone?

  “I’ll send for my horse and take you back. It will be faster.”

  “Oh, I cannot—”

  “I insist.”

  “But your leg.”

  “It is well as long as I have this splint. Come.” He walked to the door and stepped out. “You, there!” he called to a postulant who was walking nearby. “Fetch my horse.”

  Rapunzel walked to the edge of the forest to retrieve her head covering. He watched her pick it up and begin twisting her long hair and stuffing it inside the wimple. What a pity to see the golden locks disappearing inside the piece of fabric.

  He managed to mount his horse—it wasn’t as difficult as mounting with full armor—and walked Donner to where Rapunzel was standing.

  “Put your foot in the stirrup and I’ll pull you the rest of the way. You can sit in front.” He moved back in the saddle to show her that there was room.

  She only stared at him, one side of her mouth twisting.

  “You can sit sidesaddle.”

  Still she hesitated. Finally, she put her foot into the stirrup. He took her by the arm and hauled her up in front. She sat sideways, her skirts covering her legs and feet.

  “What if I feel like I’m falling?”

  “You’ll have to grab either me or the horse.” That should have been obvious. He nudged Donner forward.

  They moved rather slowly through the trees, and she held on to the pommel of the saddle. As Rapunzel told him which direction to go to her home, he thought about what she had said. It made sense. He could decide not to be like his father, could choose to be a kind and loving father and husband. After all, he hardly even remembered his father, and Duke Wilhelm had been a good example to him. He’d never known a better man than Duke Wilhelm. It seemed so simple and true. How had he never thought of it? He’d had to have it pointed out to him by Rapunzel.

  Beautiful, clever, hardheaded Rapunzel, who had broken down and cried, whose hair was as beautiful as a sunset.

  But it was immoral to think of her that way, to think of her beauty and her many appealing qualities, since she was only a peasant and he could never marry her.

  He could go back to Hagenheim Castle now. He was able to sit a horse, he had no more pain in his leg or his arm, and if there was a need, Frau Lena could make new splints for him.

  But he would not be able to teach Rapunzel to read anymore. Did this bother him so much that he would consider staying at the monastery instead of going back?

  “Since my leg is so much better, I’ll be going back to Hagenheim tomorrow.”

  He might very well never see her again, and that thought sent a pain through him.

  Rapunzel’s heart lurched. The lessons with Sir Gerek were over. She hadn’t realized his announcing the end of them would make her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. “That is good. You will be glad to see your friends again.”

  He didn’t answer. Then finally he said, “Yes, I will. I’ve been away for a while, as I escorted Lord Gabehart and Lady Sophie back to Hohendorf after a visit, and I was on my way back to Hagenheim when . . . when I saved you from that thief, the first time he attacked you.”

  “And I saved you when he was about to kill you.” She couldn’t help adding that.

  “Yes.”

  She glanced back at him, but instead of looking annoyed, there was a smile on his lips.

  “You have now saved me twice, and so it is my turn again.”

  He grunted rather than answering.

  “If you cross this little stream, you can follow it the rest of the way.”

  His wrist brushed her arm as he used the reins to guide the horse, sending a rush of warmth through her, much like when he had held her trembling hands. Was this how it felt to have a friend, a true friend she could trust? Someone she was not afraid would attack her and mistreat her? To feel warm inside, safe, and accepted?

  When they came in sight of her home, she saw it through Sir Gerek’s eyes. The entire structure leaned to one side, and the thatched roof was obviously housing a lot of small animals. If he got any closer, he might see the cracks in the walls.

  “Please let me down here.” Rapunzel slid off the saddle before he could get the horse stopped. “Thank you for the lessons and for helping me today.” She turned and hurried away, not waiting for him to reply.

  She entered the house. Mother was standing there, her lips thin and bloodless.

  Chapter Seventeen

  What did you do?” Mother’s voice was like the hiss of a boiling kettle. She stepped toward her and grabbed Rapunzel’s shoulders. “Where have you been with that man? What did he do to you?” Her voice escalated higher and louder with each word.

  “He didn’t do anything—”

  “If he has got you with child, I will go to Duke Wilhelm. I will force him to make the man pay for what he did to you.”

  “Mother, he hasn’t done anything to me!”

  “Don’t lie to me. I know what men are about. Did I not tell you? But I’ll take care of this.”

  “Mother, nothing happened!”

  “Why were you with him? Why?” Mother started to wail and suddenly put her face in her hands. “I’m losing you, I’m losing you.” She was sobbing and wailing, a high-pitched sound that made Rapunzel’s stomach roil and twist.

  “Mother, what are you saying? I will tell you everything if you will only be calm and stop crying so.”

  Mother suddenly ceased her weeping and looked up. “You tell me now. Tell me now what you have been doing while I was away the last few weeks. You will not lie to me. You will not deceive me.” Again her voice began to climb until she was fairly screeching.

  “Mother, I have been going to the monastery for reading lessons.” Her stomach was still twisting, and she was wringing her hands at Mother’s wild eyes and horrified expression. “I asked one of the monks to teach me, and he asked Sir Gerek to teach me.”

  “Aha! Sir Gerek.” Her lips twisted as if his name itself were poison. “I knew he wanted you. I could see it in his eyes when he looked at you. He’s lecherous and deceitful. Teaching you to read was only a ploy to make you fall in love with him.”

  “No, Mother, no. He didn’t even want to teach me. He was very honest with me, and he never even tried to make me fall in love with him. Nothing happened between us at all.”

  “He did not touch you? I don’t believe he did not try—”

  “No, Mother. He never tried to touch me.” Not in the way she meant.

  “Then why were you riding with him on his horse, sharing his saddle?”

  “That smiley man who attacked us and then tried to kill Sir Gerek followed me when I left home today, and Sir Gerek saved me from him. He was taking me home because I was nervous.” The memory of it caused tears to form i
n her eyes again. “But you don’t have to worry because he’s leaving the monastery tomorrow and I won’t be taking lessons from him anymore. So please, don’t be upset. Nothing happened.”

  “How can I trust you? Why should I believe you?” That dark look was on her face again, her eyes narrowing and her lips twisting. “You lied to me. You said you were painting and making up new songs, but you were sneaking away to go see that knight. I knew he was trouble. O God, where did I go wrong?” She clenched her fists as she bent over double, as if she’d been punched in the stomach.

  “Mother, please stop. Please listen to me. You will make yourself sick.”

  “No, you listen to me.” Her voice was gravelly, and she stuck her finger in Rapunzel’s face. “You are never to leave this house again without me. Never.” She turned and started looking all around the room. “We will pack tonight and leave in the morning. That way he can never find you again. For I know he will never leave you alone. He is determined to have his way with you and then discard you, like an old rag. We must leave here.” She grabbed an old blanket and laid it on the floor and started throwing things into the middle of it.

  “Mother, stop! Please!” Had her mother lost her mind? What could Rapunzel say to calm her? “We have only just come here. We can’t leave.” She desperately searched her mind for reasons why they should stay, something that would convince Mother. “You have those two pregnant women who are counting on you delivering their babies. You were doing well. Hagenheim is good for you.” She decided not to mention the man she had come here to seek revenge on.

  “But it is bad for you.” Mother was shaking her head. “Didn’t you say that man attacked you again? He found you. He must have heard me say where people could find me, in the cottage in the woods.” She suddenly turned around. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No, Mother. He tried to hurt me, but Sir Gerek came in time to save me. I am well, but I am worried about you. You look frantic and not well. We cannot leave, and you are—”

  “Frantic? Unwell?” Mother let out a loud cackle, so loud and so long that it made the hair on her arms stand up and her skin tingle. “I come home and find you gone. I don’t know where you are. Then I see you riding up in the very saddle with that knight. Of course I am frantic and unwell!” Mother had filled the blanket with their belongings and was lifting the corners and tying them together.