Gabe glared back, holding his brother’s gaze without blinking.
Valten folded his arms across his chest and turned to the man he knew would support his argument. “Father, you’re not thinking of letting him go, are you?”
His father raised his brows and took a deep breath. He turned to Gabe. “Son, I’m glad you are willing to go, but I’m afraid it’s just too dangerous for you to venture alone. When Valten is well again, we can travel to Hohendorf. Besides, the old woman’s claims will most likely turn out to be false. We may learn there is no Sophie, and the duke’s daughter is dead, as we have all believed for the past fifteen years. And even if there is a Sophie who turns out to be the duke’s daughter, she will be safe until we are all able to journey there.”
Gabe shrugged and looked at the floor. “As you say, Father.”
He was giving up too easily, which was a sign that Gabe had an idea — a dangerous idea. Gabe had better not be planning to take on the rescue alone, because Duchess Ermengard had a very alarming reputation, and Gabe was just a thoughtless boy.
Just as Sophie’s eyes closed and her body and mind threatened to relax enough to let her fall asleep, the scurry of tiny claws against the hard dirt floor forced them open again. She lifted the stick and brought it down with a whack. It missed the rat’s head by a whisker and violently jarred her arm all the way to her shoulder. Sophie stifled a moan and sighed instead.
She’d hardly slept all night. As soon as she felt herself dozing, another rat would scuttle close. One had even run across her foot just before daybreak. She shivered at the memory. A scar on her wrist was all the reminder she needed that rats had sharp teeth and assumed everything was food until proven otherwise.
A gray light showed itself at the window. The night was over. Her arms trembled as she pulled the blanket tighter about her, and she drew her knees up to her chest. “God, please save me from this place,” she rasped. But she refused to pity herself. Pity would only make her cry, and crying was worse than useless; it would give her a headache.
She might as well drink the last of the watered-down wine, especially as she needed to get rid of the flask before any of the guards found it. No doubt the duchess would lengthen her stay in the dungeon by another day or two if she knew Sophie had been given food and drink. Her bread and cheese had long since been eaten — so as not to send the rodents into a frenzy, driving them with more desperation toward her.
Uncorking the flask, Sophie said a quick prayer of thanks, thinking of Lorencz the huntsman, and drank the last of it. Then she hid it under a loose rock in the farthest corner.
And not a moment too soon, as she heard the sound of metal scraping metal — a key in the lock. The door creaked open with agonizing slowness.
Sophie waited to see who was there and what they wanted before expending the energy to stand.
“Come,” a gruff voice ordered. “Time to go.”
Sophie scrambled to her feet, dropping the blanket — too late to try to hide it. Walking as though in a daze, she climbed the steps and passed through the doorway while the guard held the door. Could Lorencz truly have secured her release after only one night?
A terrible thought entered her mind. Perhaps the guard was letting her out so he could take her to the duchess for more railings, and so the duchess could strike her again.
Sophie looked at the guard, waiting for his orders, but the man only walked away. Within moments, other footsteps sounded down the corridor, growing louder as they came closer. Should she run before the person saw her? Maybe the guard had let her out by mistake, a mistake that would be remedied by the person stalking toward her.
But as the nearby wall torch illuminated the man’s face, Lorencz’s features came into view.
He smiled. “Little Sophie. You survived the night.”
She felt a surge of gratitude that made her knees sag. He stepped forward and reached out to her, as if he thought she was falling.
Sophie warded him off by raising her hands. “I am quite dirty.”
He looked slightly affronted but recovered his smile quickly. “I shall come for you at midday for our picnic, then, after you’ve had time to bathe. Shall I meet you at the back door of the kitchen?”
Sophie blinked at him, unable to make sense of his words. Ah, yes. She had almost forgotten her promise to spend a meal with the huntsman.
“I am sorry, but I have work to do. The cook needs my help.”
“Then I shall speak to the cook. Surely she can spare you for one hour.”
“You may speak to her, but Petra can get very angry, and I am certain she will not allow me to go with you.” That much was true, but only if Sophie could get to her first and warn her not to say yes to the huntsman’s request. “Petra keeps me quite busy.” And I will make sure she continues to need my service during every meal.
“Don’t use me ill. You will dine with me as soon as I can free you from the kitchen?”