“No, I have other business I must attend to,” Gerek told him.
He had not seen Rapunzel for a few days. Was she still working at the castle, or had she gone back to her mother? She had said she was tired of being around people all the time and wished for some time alone. Listening to the conversations around him, he was feeling the same way. Perhaps he would take a ride today.
His companions stood and he stood too. He turned and caught sight of a maidservant coming toward him. It was Rapunzel.
She had something hidden in the folds of her skirt as she approached him. Thankfully, no one was paying attention to them as she said, “I finished your book. Thank you so much for allowing me to borrow it.” She surreptitiously held it out to him.
“Did you enjoy it?”
She smiled. Saints above, but she was pretty, with her thick blond braid hanging down her back and peeking out of her small head covering. She had the most perfectly sweet features.
He tore his gaze from her face and cleared his throat.
“I very much enjoyed reading about Parzival. It was good, but I was wondering—”
“Would you like to borrow another book?”
She smiled and nodded.
“Of course. I’ll go get one now.”
“No, you don’t have to go out of your way to do it now.”
“It’s no trouble. Where will you be?”
“I can wait for you somewhere. I was going to the meadow.”
“I’ll meet you there and bring the book.” His step was light and quick as he strode toward the door.
He had practically leapt at the chance to give her another book. But was it wise? Perhaps he should go back to treating her like a peasant and not paying attention to how pretty she was, but he couldn’t resist the smile that lit up her face when he gave her new reading material. Besides, what harm could it bring? She disliked him, and with any good fortune, he would be married soon.
In no time he had fetched three small books and his horse and rode toward the tree at the top of the hill in the meadow overlooking the castle. Rapunzel was already there, standing and looking up through the branches at the sky.
When she heard him coming, she looked in his direction, shading her eyes with her hand. She wore a woolen shawl around her shoulders to guard against the chilly spring air.
He reined Donner in and dismounted, taking three books out of his saddlebag. “Here is the gospel of Saint John, the letter to the Romans, and I brought The Poem of the Cid.”
“Thank you.” She accepted the books, and their fingers brushed.
Her cheeks were pink, but he couldn’t tell if the color was from the crisp air or if she was blushing.
“You didn’t have to bring three.”
He shrugged. “They are all short. I found this copy of the gospel of John in a little shop in Heidelberg.”
“Thank you. I enjoyed the story of Parzival, but the Holy Writ is more . . . comforting.”
The way she caressed the books, holding them close to her, made his heart miss a beat. He cleared his throat.
“Are you practicing your war maneuvers today?”
“No, today Duke Wilhelm is taking Lord Claybrook on a tour of the town. I am taking Donner for a ride.”
“Donner?”
“That’s my horse.”
She nodded. “I suppose it is rather inconvenient having Lord Claybrook’s men here.”
“I’m not sure why he had to bring so many guards. But he’s from England. Maybe that’s how all their noblemen travel.”
“I caught a glimpse of him. The other servants and I were looking through the door at the feast on the day he arrived.” She paused. “I saw Rainhilda flirting with you.”
“You saw that?” He ran a hand through his hair.
“She is very beautiful. Will you marry her? I have heard she has a very large inheritance and dowry.”
“Perhaps. But I think it more likely I’ll marry the widow of Lord Lankouwen. She has no heirs, and she is looking for someone who can defend her castle.”
“That sounds like a very good situation for you. And she’s probably less . . . immature than Rainhilda.”
He grimaced. “I must seem very greedy and grasping to you.”
“I understand that you want to do well for yourself. I would not presume to judge you.”
Well, she shouldn’t judge him. But he did wish she could admire him. Foolish, foolish thought.
“You should marry Lady Kirstyn, Duke Wilhelm’s second daughter. She is a very sweet girl.”
“Duke Wilhelm would never let one of his daughters marry me. I am only a landless knight. No, I could not hope to marry a duke’s daughter.”
Rapunzel stared down at the books in her hands.
“I should let you be alone. Fare well.” He swiftly remounted his horse.
“Thank you for the books. I shall return them.”
He gave her a quick nod and steered Donner toward the woods. He skirted the edge of the forest, letting Donner go as fast as he wished, letting the cold air sting his face, hoping it would distract his thoughts from the beautiful peasant girl with the golden braid and blue eyes.
Chapter Twenty-One
That night Rapunzel was brushing Lady Rose’s hair and thinking of how Mother used to brush her hair every night. Rapunzel would sing while Mother braided her hair. But she did not sing to Lady Rose. Instead, she listened while Lady Rose talked to her.
“Sir Gerek has been with us for a long time.”
“Yes, he told me.” She should not have admitted to knowing that intimate bit of knowledge. “That is, I know that knights are sent as young boys to live with the noble family where they will train as knights.”
“He told me how you saved him from that brigand by throwing a knife and striking his arm. Where did you learn to throw like that?”
“Some village boys were throwing knives and I wanted to know how to do it too. I asked them to teach me and they did.”
“Did you know the knife would strike him in the arm?”
“That is what I was aiming for. My aim is good since I used to practice a lot.” She could see Lady Rose smiling in the mirror.
“Did you know I had another daughter besides Margaretha, Kirstyn, and Adela?”
“You had another?”
“Yes, and she had hair as blond as yours.” Lady Rose stared at Rapunzel’s yellow-blond braid in the mirror, which lay across her shoulder.
“What happened to her?” Rapunzel asked softly.
Lady Rose sighed. “When she was three years old, she fell in the river. We never found her body.” Tears glistened in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry that happened.”
“Thank you, my dear. It was a horrible time, but God comforted me. Margaretha was a baby, and I had to be strong for my two older boys, Valten and Gabehart. But it still feels like there’s a hole in my heart. Have you ever felt that way?”
Rapunzel thought for a moment. “If I let myself think about it, I sometimes feel that way about my parents. I’ll never know who they were, I suppose, and it does leave an emptiness inside me.”
Lady Rose nodded. “I think it is very understandable that you would feel that way.” She turned around and clasped Rapunzel’s hand and smiled. “I’m so glad you’re here with us, Rapunzel.”
Tears pricked her eyes. She missed her mother, but she also wished her mother was as kind and loving and nurturing as Lady Rose. If only she could throw her arms around her and feel comforted.
“If you don’t need me anymore, I’ll go and take care of Lady Margaretha and Lady Kirstyn.”
“That will be very good. Thank you, my dear.”
She let go of Rapunzel’s hand, and Rapunzel rushed out of the room before any tears could spill.
“Rapunzel.” Frau Adelheit motioned her forward with her hand. “I need some help with the linens.” She looked at Cook. “That is, if you can spare her.”
Cook turned her hand back and forth in the air.
“We are not busy. Take her.”
Rapunzel followed Frau Adelheit out of the room. She only hoped she would not have to sew.
Duke Wilhelm, Lord Hamlin, Sir Gerek, and Lord Claybrook had all been away for the last week, so Rapunzel and the other kitchen maids’ work had been much lighter.
She was not exactly sure where they’d all gone—something about capturing brigands on the roads north of Hagenheim. But gossip said that Sir Gerek had gone to arrange a marriage with Lady Lankouwen. And if a few tears leaked onto Rapunzel’s pillow the last couple of nights as she thought of him marrying, she would not admit it to anyone. Sir Gerek had been her friend, and she had always known he would marry an heiress. It was as she had expected and as it should be.
Frau Adelheit led her to the laundry storage room and pointed to a large basket filled with linens. “I need you to fold these.”
Rapunzel immediately set to work, and Frau Adelheit began counting sheets, making notes on a piece of parchment on her little desk, and then started folding from another large basket.
Rapunzel glanced around. There were no less than six large baskets full of linens just like the one Rapunzel was folding from. They would be here a long time.
Frau Adelheit suddenly broke the silence. “I heard about what happened to you, getting attacked on the road and Sir Gerek saving you.” She snapped the sheet she was holding before folding it in a perfect square. “Has he behaved in a suitable manner toward you?”
“Very much so.” She ran her thumb over the scar on the palm of her right hand and reached for another sheet. “He lets me borrow his books.” There had never been anything improper between them, though no one seemed to believe it.
Frau Adelheit asked her more questions, and she even told Rapunzel about her own childhood. They had to pass the time, and since they had to work in the same room together, talking to Frau Adelheit was less awkward than remaining silent.
Frau Adelheit’s parents had both worked at Hagenheim Castle but were now dead, and so was her husband—and Rapunzel told her how she had run away from her mother to work at the castle. She learned about Frau Adelheit’s three grown children, and Rapunzel told her about the strange things her mother had said when she saw Rapunzel with Sir Gerek.
“I think you did the right thing by getting away from her,” Frau Adelheit said. “But perhaps she will change now that she sees the consequences of her words.”
“Yes, perhaps.”
When had she ever talked to anyone like this? She had not even told Cristobel all these things. Mother had made her feel as if she could not trust anyone, and she realized now that was not normal. Other people were not so closemouthed. Other people were not afraid that all men were unscrupulous. Mother’s influence had caused Rapunzel to think in a way that was not healthy or conducive to having relationships with people. People had faults and were not perfect, but they weren’t all out to hurt her, as her mother had tried to convince her.
They only had one more basket of linens to fold, and they both started on it.
“For a long time,” Rapunzel said, “I’ve wondered if my mother lied to me about where I came from.”
“What makes you think she may have lied to you?” Frau Adelheit asked.
“She used to tell me that she found me as a baby in the rapunzel patch behind our house. Then she changed the story and said I was abandoned at her front door when I was about three years old. I always got the feeling that there was more to the story than she was telling me, but she would become angry if I questioned her about it.
“And I have this scar on my hand.” Rapunzel held out her right hand so the candlelight was shining on it for Frau Adelheit to see. “I asked Mother about it once, but she said she didn’t know how I got it. I thought that was strange, if the second story was true. After all, if I was a baby when someone left me in her garden, then I must have gotten the scar after I came to live with her. How could she not know how I got it? Although if the other story was true and I was three when she found me, then—What’s wrong?”
Frau Adelheit had taken hold of Rapunzel’s hand and was staring at it with her mouth open. “O holy angels in heaven,” she rasped. “It cannot be.” Tears glistened as she turned her body to face Rapunzel and stared at her—not into her eyes, but at her face, as though searching her features.
“What is it? Tell me.”
“I think . . . I think . . . Oh, heavenly saints.” She made the sign of the cross over her chest as a tear dripped from her eye.
“Tell me!” Rapunzel’s heart was in her throat. “Do you know who my parents were?”
“You have the exact same scar that—” Her breath hitched. She pressed her hand over her mouth, then said, “The same scar that Duke Wilhelm and Lady Rose’s oldest daughter, Elsebeth, had.”
Rapunzel’s face tingled. “Duke Wilhelm and Lady Rose? That is not possible. They would never abandon their child.” A realization was washing over her. She tried to grasp it.
“No, of course not. But when Elsebeth was three, she fell into the river. I knew the nursemaid. She was watching Elsebeth and Gabehart, and she tried to get to the little girl, but she was carried downriver. They never found her body, but we all assumed she had drowned.” Her eyes were wide and tears puddled under her bottom eyelid. “But . . . but she could have lived.”
Frau Adelheit found a small cloth and wiped her cheeks. Her voice shook. “When little Elsebeth had just turned three, she was running and fell. There happened to be a piece of pottery, a shard from a broken pitcher, on the ground, and it cut her right hand very badly. I was nearby and ran to get a cloth to wrap around her hand, and they carried her to Frau Lena. It made quite a scar—a curved scar just like the one on your hand, in just the same place. Rapunzel, I think . . . I know . . . you are Elsebeth.”
Rapunzel was numb all over, her thoughts spinning. “I-I don’t understand. Why would Mother lie about where she found me? Could she have known who I was?” She covered her own mouth as her lips and chin began to tremble. Was it possible? Could she be the daughter of Lady Rose and Duke Wilhelm?
“But I-I look nothing like Duke Wilhelm or Lady Rose.”
“There is a resemblance. Kirstyn and Adela both have blond hair, though not quite as golden as yours, and though your eyes are as blue as Duke Wilhelm’s, they have the same look as Lady Rose’s. I have heard that the duchess, Duke Wilhelm’s mother, had golden-blond hair like yours. Oh yes, you definitely have the family resemblance.” She nodded over and over as she stared at her.
Rapunzel examined the scar on her hand, her heart thumping erratically. “Are you sure? Are you sure it’s the same scar?” Could she truly be the lost daughter of Lady Rose and Duke Wilhelm? It made sense, but it also seemed the most far-fetched thing imaginable.
Frau Adelheit took her hand and turned it toward the light again. “It’s exactly the way I remember it. And you look to be the correct age—three years younger than Gabe and two years older than Margaretha.”
“What . . . what should I do?”
“You have to tell Lady Rose.”
“I’m afraid to tell her. What if we’re wrong? Perhaps I should talk to Mother first.”
Frau Adelheit looked thoughtful. “I suppose it cannot hurt to wait. But as soon as you show Lady Rose that scar, she will know you are her Elsebeth.”
Mother must have found Rapunzel . . . Elsebeth . . . in the river and didn’t know who she was. “I have to find Mother and ask her.” But what if she had deliberately stolen Rapunzel away from her rightful parents? No, surely she could not have done anything so horrendous.
“I will first speak to Mother about this. I must find out what she knows, what she did . . . how this happened.”
“But didn’t she threaten to give you a sleeping potion and take you away from here and lock you up? I do not think you should confront her, not alone. If she did take you, knowing you were the duke’s daughter, then she may do something terrible. You don’t know what she might do. Promise me you
will not leave the castle.”
“Very well. I promise.” A heaviness settled inside as she thought about how her mother—the only mother she could remember, the mother who needed her to brush her hair and sing to her at night or she couldn’t fall asleep—must have known whose child she was and took her as her own anyway. How could she be so cruel? The breath squeezed painfully out of her chest, her mind going blank with the horror of it.
Gerek was back at Hagenheim Castle. He had been gone for several days, as he had gone to visit Lady Lankouwen to arrange a marriage with her. He had found her quite willing. Although nothing was settled and they were not betrothed, Lady Lankouwen wished to send a letter to the king and await his approval. Then they could publish the banns and marry.
He should feel joyful about the prospect of securing his own future, a sturdy castle, and fertile lands. The arrangement was wise and profitable, and Lady Lankouwen seemed pleased. She had even kissed him on the cheek when he left, and he had kissed her hand. Perhaps it would even be an affectionate marriage.
In his absence, Duke Wilhelm and Valten had gone and would not be back for several more days. So when he saw three of Claybrook’s guards huddled together, he wondered why they and Lord Claybrook were not with the duke.
One of them looked up and saw Gerek, and they stopped talking and took a step away from each other.
“Good morning,” Gerek said.
“Good morning,” they mumbled.
He walked past them, but when he looked over his shoulder, they were leaning in to continue whatever conversation he had interrupted.
Were they scheming something? Gerek stopped just out of sight of them and listened, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Not wanting them to discover him eavesdropping, he continued on down the corridor.
Perhaps Gerek could find out something from listening in to some of the other guards’ conversations.
He strode out of the castle and toward the gatehouse, trying to look like all the other people milling around the castle bailey who were either servants or skilled craftsmen, like the castle blacksmith and the saddle maker. Having just come back from Lady Lankouwen’s estate, Gerek wasn’t wearing his usual Hagenheim colors, and he hoped to blend in.
A Melanie Dickerson Collection Page 68