The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(24)

“They both seem like good choices for you, my lord.”

“They are both good prospects, perhaps. Though Lady Magdalen is too young for me.” Was he saying this because he already felt a preference for Lady Dorothea? Certainly Dorothea was beautiful, and he thought her appealingly forthright in her private audience with him. But he must not allow himself to be swayed by fickle, unreliable feelings. He did not want something as silly as beauty to cloud his judgment. After all, once he was married, beauty would mean little. But she was passing most of their tests.

There was the little matter of Lady Dorothea’s father betraying him by telling the king that he believed Reinhart to have murdered his own brother. Could he trust the Earl of Plimmwald or his daughter? The king obviously thought it would be wise for him to heal the breach by marrying the earl’s daughter, but might Lady Dorothea become like his mother, resentful and unfaithful?

“True, Lady Magdalen is a bit young,” Jorgen said.

“We shall learn more about them both as the two weeks progress.”

Jorgen nodded his agreement, a small smile on his face. Reinhart fought back a growl and cleared his throat instead. Jorgen and Odette were enjoying this wife search, as if they thought he was “falling in love” like an addled youth or a peasant farmer. He hardly found this enjoyable. For him, too much was at stake.



Avelina and Magdalen sat in the two cushioned, throne-like chairs in Avelina’s bedchamber. The sun was going down and the windows were closed and shuttered against the wind that whistled just outside.

“I think the margrave, the chancellor, and Odette are setting up tests for us,” Avelina confided.

“Tests?” Magdalen’s brows lowered, then lifted. “Oh yes! You mean the way the chancellor and Lord Thornbeck were watching us when we were in town.”

Avelina nodded, tapping her chin with her finger. “He has only a short time to choose a wife. He probably wants to find out how we will react in different situations. I can hardly blame him, I suppose, but it seems a bit . . . cold and deceptive.”

“No.” Magdalen shook her head. “I would not say cold. He doesn’t want to marry someone who does not care about the same things he cares about. Perhaps it is a bit deceptive, but it is wise, and it shows he takes his marriage vows seriously. I think it is endearing.”

Avelina hardly had the right to criticize him for being deceptive when she herself was deceiving them all. She lowered her voice a bit. “I think the tour of Thornbeck was a test. And they had the children begging because they wanted to see what we would do.”

“I did remember thinking the children didn’t look like beggars. They were dirty and their clothes were worn, but their eyes . . . they were cheerful. Not really sad at all.”

“Yes, exactly.” Avelina sat up and leaned toward Magdalen. “And did you see the way the chancellor was writing in his little book? And the way Lord Thornbeck took the money and gave it back to you, then gave the children some money himself and said that they would be provided for? I think they were from the orphanage that we passed, and he, or perhaps Odette, had the children come and beg for money and say they were hungry.”

Magdalen’s eyes were wide and her mouth hung open. She was so sweet and beautiful. She would make a wonderful margrave’s wife. Avelina had already made up her mind that the margrave had not killed his brother. She simply could not believe anyone who was so particular about who he was going to marry, and who seemed so concerned about orphans, could have done such a despicable thing. At least, she hoped not.

“I think the margrave wanted to see if we cared about orphans—to see who among us would be kind to them and who would treat them as if they were offensive. And you, my dear Lady Magdalen, have surpassed their trial.” Avelina clasped her hands and grinned. This was going to be easy. He might even choose Magdalen without any help from Avelina.

Magdalen shook her head. “He could have simply asked us what we think of the poor.”

“He could have asked, but we might say whatever we think he wants to hear. By testing us he can be more certain of what is in our hearts. Our actions are more truthful. Do you not agree?”

“It does sound likely.”

A knock came at the door.

“That is probably Hegatha worried about me getting to bed late.”

Avelina opened the door to Magdalen’s maidservant, who looked old enough to be her grandmother.

“Forgive me, Lady Dorothea, but Magdalen needs to be in bed soon. Come, Magdalen.”

“I shall be there in a moment, Hegatha.” Magdalen nodded to her, and the servant closed the door with a grumpy look.

Magdalen smiled apologetically. “Come to my room tomorrow. We can speak about it some more, before the ball.”

They wished each other a good night and Magdalen left.

Irma wandered into the bedchamber and plopped down on Avelina’s bed. “I thought she would never leave. I’m always afraid I will call you Avelina instead of Dorothea when other people are around. Keeping the secret that you are not an earl’s daughter . . . I don’t know if I can do it for two entire weeks.”

Avelina expelled the breath from her lungs. “Don’t even say a thing like that. You must keep the secret. Everything depends upon it—our very lives. Do you know what Lord Plimmwald will do to us if—?”