The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(65)

Reinhart had spent hours strategizing with two of his most trusted knights, who speculated that Sir Klas had been captured by the Duke of Geitbart. They talked of ways they might defeat Geitbart, but Reinhart and his men were outnumbered, and Reinhart was still waiting for Jorgen to get back from his wolf-hunting expedition. He and Odette had taken provisions, prepared to sleep at least two nights away from home to chase the wolves as far away from Thornbeck as possible, if they were not able to kill them.

Reinhart’s only two options seemed to be having Geitbart assassinated or running away, and neither of those were honorable. Openly confronting the man would serve no purpose except to alert Geitbart that he knew of his treachery.

Few castles of the Holy Roman Empire had escaped being besieged at one time or another, and it was not so extraordinary that Geitbart would attempt to take Thornbeck. His only hope was that the king would send help, enough soldiers to stop Geitbart and his attackers, or that Reinhart would be able to give himself up in exchange for no harm coming to his people.

He needed to send Avelina away before Geitbart attacked. Fronicka would surely have her killed, and time was running out.



Avelina found Frau Schwitzer in a storage room. Avelina explained to her what she wished to do, her hands clasped together in front of her chest. “Won’t you please help me?”

Frau Schwitzer’s kindly face suddenly appeared creased and troubled. “I do not know if it will do any good, but I suppose it can do no harm—except to you. Are you certain you wish to take the risk?”

“Oh yes, of course.”

A thought dawned on Frau Schwitzer’s face. For a moment it seemed as if she might say something, but she only nodded and nudged Avelina toward the door.

They entered the kitchen and Frau Schwitzer gave two sharp claps. “Everyone, this is Avelina. She will be working in the kitchen today, doing whatever Cook expects of her.”

Someone mumbled, “Isn’t that Lady Dorothea?”

“She was formerly known as Lady Dorothea,” Frau Schwitzer said loudly. “Now she must make up for her deception by working in the kitchen until our lord sends her back to Plimmwald. That is all. You may go back to work.”

Everyone quickly resumed their work. Frau Schwitzer went over and whispered in Cook’s ear, then she left the room.

A few maidservants glanced furtively in her direction. Would her plan have the opposite effect than the one she’d hoped? Would they resent and dislike her for having played the part of Lady Dorothea, humiliating their lord? Or would they take her under their wing?

Cook was pointing at her with a wooden ladle. “Sit down over there and shell those peas.”

Avelina limped to the table and sat on a stool. Already her ankle was throbbing, so she was grateful to be able to do a sitting-down task. And since she was no stranger to shelling peas, she set a fast pace. As soon as she finished all the peas in the basket, another maidservant replaced the empty basket with a full one.

“You’re fast,” the maidservant said. “I’m Engel.” She sat beside her and started shelling the peas into the same bowl with Avelina. “Why were you pretending to be Lady Dorothea?”

“I had no choice. My lord, the Earl of Plimmwald, made me do it.”

“Are you sorry you didn’t run away? Or was it worth it?”

Avelina shrugged. “It was fun while it lasted, but I’ll be punished when I get home. No doubt he has already sent my father and little brother and sister far away and I will never see them again.”

Engel was a young woman about Avelina’s age, with a stout frame and her brown hair in one braid down her back. She eyed Avelina out of the corner of her eye, when she wasn’t looking at the pea pod in her hand.

“But was it worth it to have the margrave fall in love with you?”

Some of the other maidservants turned to look at her, waiting to hear her answer.

Her heart pounded. She must play her part. “He doesn’t care for me now that he knows I’m only a maidservant. He would get rid of me if he could.”

“Why doesn’t he send you away, then?”

More eyes turned to stare.

“He would, but Plimmwald’s guards haven’t come to fetch me yet, and I injured my ankle. Wolf attack.”

“But did Lord Thornbeck not save you from the wolves?”

“He did not know it was me. He heard screams and came to help.” She shrugged.

At least they were not looking at her with hatred or resentment.

“Did you like talking to him? To Lord Thornbeck?” a young maidservant who was kneading bread dough asked.

“Anyone would.”

“Is he just as handsome close up?”

They were all staring at her now, even Cook.

“He is even more handsome close up.”

“Did he kiss you?” This eager question came from another young maidservant.

Avelina shook her head, the heat rising into her cheeks.

“That’s enough,” Cook said. “Get back to your chores before I send you all home.”

They complied, but she noticed a couple of them giving her shy smiles. The plan was working.

When it was time for their midday meal, Avelina was given a place at the table with the other servants, including Gerhaws, who appeared in the kitchen just as the food was being served.