The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(61)

Avelina closed the door and hurried away as fast as she could, painfully making her way down the stairs, holding on to the railing and walking down sideways, leading with her good foot.

First she would try Lord Thornbeck’s library. If he was not there, she’d try the Great Hall, then the chapel. Then she’d risk asking someone for help. But if Geitbart was able to take over Thornbeck, they were all doomed. Avelina—and Lord Thornbeck—would be at Fronicka’s mercy. There would be nowhere to turn for help, like staring down into a deep ravine from a balcony with only a broken railing to hold on to.





22



REINHART PULLED HIS chair away from his desk and sat staring out the window at the snow-covered forest. From this secluded alcove behind a curtain, he was all but hidden from the rest of the library, should anyone come in to look for him. He should be in the Great Hall, feasting with his guests, but he was not in a festive mood. Let them feast without him.

Because of the snow, all of his guests were staying at least one more night, in the hopes that the sun would burn away the clouds and melt the snow. But when should he send Avelina home? Should he wait until her ankle was better enough that she could walk on it? Or should he send her home tomorrow on a cart?

His chest still ached every time he thought about her. But when an arrow had struck a warrior, he did not wait to pull it out. He immediately took hold of it and yanked it out. Just so, it was not wise to keep her here. He should send her away as soon as possible. The longer he waited, the more painful it would be.

He would never do what his brother had done—ask for the love of a servant who was obligated to do as she was told. Never. But he had to admit, even though he was still very angry with her, Avelina could be a temptation to him.

He still wanted her.

And he was no closer to choosing a bride than he had ever been.

A shuffling sound came from near the door, then moved closer. A rat, perhaps. He would have to have the servants set some traps for it.

“Lord Thornbeck?” someone called softly.

This was the problem with having guests. One could never get any peace with so many people around.

Reinhart carefully pulled the curtain back a bit to see who was there.

“Lord Thornbeck? Are you in here?” It sounded like Avelina’s voice.

He pulled the curtain back some more. She was turning to leave, limping on her injured ankle.

He should just let her leave. She was nearly to the door.

“What do you want?”

She turned around. “Lord Thornbeck, forgive me, but I must speak with you.” She was still talking in a hushed tone. She limped toward him. When a bit of light fell across her face, he saw the urgency of her expression—or perhaps it was pain from her ankle that made her face so tense.

He stood. “What is so important that you would walk on your injured ankle?”

“I overheard . . . Are we alone?” She glanced around the room.

He went toward her, struck with the irony of how similar her gait now was to his. “What did you overhear?”

She looked up at him. “The Duke of Geitbart,” she whispered, “was talking to several of the noblemen in the west wing. He plans to capture and take over Thornbeck Castle.”

Hadn’t she claimed Geitbart planned to do the same thing to Plimmwald? “Why would he say that? And what were you doing in the west wing?”

“Endlein led me there. I suppose Geitbart was looking for a place where no one was around and where you would not hear of their private conversation. But he was telling the other men that you . . . that your mind was addled because you had chosen a servant to marry.”

Heat rose into his face. “Yes, I suppose he would.”

She looked away from him, and he imagined she was blushing—he couldn’t tell in the dark room. But she set her jaw and went on.

“I wanted to warn you. If you do not wish to hear how they plan to attack you, I will go.”

So, she had not lost her spirit.

“You may go on.”

“Geitbart mentioned the rumor that you had killed your brother, that you did not stop some recent poaching, and you allowed your chancellor to marry a notorious poacher. He told the men if they were loyal to the king, they should pledge their allegiance to Geitbart and join with him in capturing you and subduing your guards.”

So that’s how it was. He had to act, and quickly.

“Do your guards outnumber Geitbart’s?”

The only region wealthier than Thornbeck was Geitbart. It was very likely the duke’s guards did outnumber his. And no doubt he would have built up his force by hiring every mercenary and stray knight, baron, and thief he could find as he planned for this. Reinhart’s best hope was to send word to the king and ask for help. But what if Geitbart had already poisoned the king against him as well?

Surely the duke’s influence did not reach that high. If it did, then Reinhart’s cause was already hopeless.

Avelina was staring up at him, waiting. There was such a look of trust and belief on her face. He imagined reaching out and caressing her cheek.

“Did anyone see you? Do they know you heard them?”

“Only Endlein was there with me. I was listening through the keyhole.”

They stood in the middle of the library, neither of them speaking for several moments. “Avelina, will you do something for me?”