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The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(71)

Author:Melanie Dickerson

How dare he say such things? She pulled the iron door handle, as carefully as possible, while the men were talking. She opened the door just a crack and put one eye up to it.

Geitbart stood in the middle of the group. Several noblemen who had come to take their daughters home were there, probably seven or eight men, though she could not see very well through the tiny crack. Her heart was pounding. If she was caught . . .

“We are all agreed, then.” Geitbart was turning in her direction.

Avelina stood and darted down the corridor toward an open door, ignoring the pain in her ankle. She hurried silently in her stockinged feet into the next room, but she was not sure Endlein was following.

Behind her, men’s footsteps entered the corridor.

“What are you doing here?” The men must have encountered Endlein standing in the corridor.

“It is only the lack-witted woman Lord Thornbeck lets roam the castle—another reason to doubt his sanity.”

They seemed to be ignoring Endlein and walking on by, as Avelina plastered herself against the wall inside the room so they wouldn’t see her.

The men were soon gone, their footsteps growing fainter.

Where would Lord Thornbeck be at this time of day? “Please let him not be in the Great Hall.” She didn’t want to face all those people.

Endlein was staring at her.

“Don’t tell anyone about those men and what they said.” Avelina looked into her eyes to make sure she understood. Those men would kill her if they thought she might tell someone what they were plotting.

“Very well.” Endlein stared back at her with that vacant look.

Avelina turned and took two steps before pain shot from her ankle up her leg, reminding her to walk slower.

She limped, her heart still pounding, heading toward the stairs. Perhaps she should tell Magdalen so she was not the only one who knew of this treachery. The two of them could split up and find Lord Thornbeck faster.

She limp-hopped through the long, winding corridor, making her way from the west wing to Magdalen’s door and knocked. She waited. Then she pushed the door open and called softly, “Magdalen. Magdalen, are you here?”

No one answered, and there was no sound.

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.

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