The Orphan's Wish

by Melanie Dickerson

  He would have to tell Grethel and Herr Kaufmann that he couldn’t marry Grethel. How could he bear to lose their love and admiration?

  For now he’d push that from his mind. Kirstyn deserved his attention. He would focus on taking care of her and, in every way he could, making up for the terrible ordeal she had been through. But the fear that Kirstyn would be disappointed in him . . .

  “Aladdin?” She opened her eyes again.

  “Yes?” They weren’t very far from home now. “Are you in pain? You aren’t injured, are you?” Then he noticed the rope dangling from her wrist. What had that man done to her?

  “No.” She seemed more alert now, and she nestled against his chest. “He didn’t hurt me, not as he might have. But I’m afraid my wrist will be scarred.”

  He looked down at her hand, resting against him. Scabs, along with raw, weeping flesh, ringed her wrist. He was hollowed out by the sight. If only he could have protected her.

  Kirstyn drank in every facet of Aladdin’s face as he stared at her wrist, the pained look in his half-closed eyes, his parted lips. Thank You, God. He must still care for me. But could he love her? And what would he think when he found out she loved him? She was ragged and pathetic, thin and pale, and she hadn’t had a bath in a long time, while he wore the clothes of a wealthy merchant—a blue turban with silver-and-gold stitching and a long flowing cloak of blue velvet trimmed in fur.

  “We’re here.” He turned into the doorway of a large four-story home. “Will you knock? My hands are full.” He looked down at her in such an endearing way, it made her heart skip.

  It was the same woman who had opened the door before.

  “Oh, thank heavens! Are you unwell? Aladdin, is she unwell? Come in.”

  “Kirstyn”—Aladdin brushed past the woman—“this is Hilde.”

  “Lady Kirstyn, oh, my dear. You will want a good, hot meal and a soft bed. You poor thing. Come.”

  Kirstyn opened her mouth to speak, then bit her lip as Aladdin carried her through the entryway.

  “What is it?”

  She whispered, “Do you think I could have a bath?”

  “Of course.” He called over his shoulder to Hilde, “Could you please prepare a bath for Lady Kirstyn?”

  “Of course. The poor dear.”

  “You can put me down now.” Kirstyn suddenly felt shy, unable to look him in the eye as he complied. “I’m so sorry you had to carry me.”

  “I’m not sorry. That is . . . it wasn’t your fault, and I didn’t mind.”

  They exchanged a glance as Hilde hurried her away for her bath.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Kirstyn sighed as she stepped out of the small wooden tub of warm water and dried herself. She hadn’t felt so relaxed in a very long time. But the thought that Aladdin was nearby, waiting for her, kept her from lingering in the comforting bath.

  Once again she recalled the way Aladdin had looked at her since he had found her an hour ago, and she melted inside. Her sweet, thoughtful, generous Aladdin. Now she could finally have him back. And she could see her family again. She missed them so much. Tears stung her eyes at the thought of her mother’s hugs and her father’s powerful presence.

  She shivered and quickly drew the clean white chemise over her head.

  Would Aladdin go with her back to Hagenheim? Of course not. His business and his fortune were here in Lüneburg.

  She didn’t want to worry about that now. She would be joyful and anticipate being next to Aladdin again—and following through with the promise she had made herself during the lonely hours of her captivity, the promise to tell Aladdin how she felt about him.

  The curtain parted, and Frau Hilde poked her head in the tiny space near the fire that had been sectioned off for Kirstyn and the tub. “Heavens above! I didn’t know you’d be finished already. Let me get you dressed before you catch a chill.” Hilde lifted a longs-leeved kirtle of deep blue silk over Kirstyn’s head. It flowed over her shoulders and down her body to her feet with a satisfying rustle.

  “Thank you. It’s a beautiful dress. Whose is it?”

  “Oh, this is Fräulein Grethel’s dress—or it was, but she hasn’t been able to fit in it since she was thirteen.”

  “Oh. I am smaller than I was. I did not eat so much when I was . . . when I was with Michael and Anna.” She hadn’t considered how it would feel to talk to strangers about where she had been for the past half year. Her face flushed.

  “You poor dear.”

  Hilde said the words so tenderly, tears rushed to Kirstyn’s eyes again.

  “It is a terrible thing that has happened to you, but you are among good people here in this house. No one will harm you in any way, even . . . Well, we are very glad you are alive and well, my dear. Most of all Aladdin, poor thing. He mourned you with all his heart, he did.”

  “He thought I was dead?” Her heart sank. Had everyone given her up for dead? She thought at least Aladdin would have kept the faith that she was alive.

  “Ja. None of us thought you could have survived. After all, your father found your scarf with blood all over it, and there seemed to be no other trace of you.”

  “Oh.” Pain squeezed Kirstyn’s heart. She’d prayed and believed that they were searching for her. It was one of the things that had kept her sane and kept her from complete despair. How could they have given up on her?

  “’Tis a good thing for you that Michael was foolish and prideful enough to return to Lüneburg, thinking he could kill Aladdin and take Herr Kaufmann’s business. Yes, you are a very fortunate young lady, after all.”

  “Yes.” After all. After all that she had suffered at Michael’s hands, undeservedly suffered, while those she loved had given her up for dead and gone on with their lives. Was she so insignificant to them? The fear that if she disappeared her family wouldn’t even miss her swept over her like water, rushing over her head and submerging her. Had they been well on their way to forgetting about her completely? Her father and mother had eight children. But Aladdin? She was the most important person in his life, wasn’t she? How could he believe she was dead and stop searching for her?

  The pain in her chest intensified, like a knife twisting deeper.

  Of course, she knew she was being ungracious. They had surely mourned for her. Their pain must have been terrible. But it didn’t lessen her own heartache.

  She made an effort to push these thoughts aside and focus on what Hilde was saying as she helped her on with her clothing and put a towel around her dripping hair.

  “I only hope Grethel and Herr Kaufmann . . .” Hilde’s voice trailed away, then she bit her lip.

  “You hope they . . . what?”

  “Nothing.” Hilde shook her head and turned away, no longer meeting her gaze.

  By the time Hilde had finished tying the laces at the sides of the dress, all Kirstyn could think about was seeing Aladdin again. Surely his words, his manner toward her, and the expression on his face would reassure her and help assuage this pain inside.

  “Let me attend to that wrist.” Hilde lifted Kirstyn’s left hand to examine it, as Michael had always tied the rope around that wrist, then went to fetch something. She returned with a small pot and smeared yellow salve on all the open sores, then quickly wrapped Kirstyn’s wrist with a cloth bandage.

  Next Hilde helped her dry her hair as she sat on a stool before the fire. She closed her eyes. She might have been back home at Hagenheim Castle, her mother combing out her hair. Pleasantly warm, she nearly fell asleep as Hilde continued to prepare her coiffure, braiding two tiny plaits on either side of her head and wrapping them around the rest of her hair.

  “You don’t have to go to any trouble,” Kirstyn said as Hilde reached for some ribbon.

  “Nonsense. I am enjoying dressing the hair of the Duke of Hagenheim’s daughter. Besides, you are so beautiful, and after all you have suffered, it is a pleasure to take care of you.”

  Being reminded of “all she had suffered” kept her from closin
g her eyes. She wished her hair was done so she could see Aladdin.

  “Anyone in there?” His voice came from just outside the curtain.

  “Patience,” Hilde said. “She is nearly perfect.”

  “Are you hungry?” Aladdin asked.

  “Yes!” Perhaps she sounded too eager.

  “The servants say they have prepared you a feast.”

  “I am very grateful.”

  “Hilde, I hope you are not playing with her hair. She is beautiful without it.”

  “Hush, you,” Hilde said with mock irritability. “I will not be rushed.”

  Kirstyn’s heart had raced at hearing Aladdin’s voice, but Hilde’s declaration made it slow again. She couldn’t think of a polite way to tell Hilde she didn’t care about her hair. She just wanted to be with Aladdin—and to eat. Her stomach growled at the thought of food.

  “I’m almost done,” Hilde mumbled for Kirstyn’s ears only. A tug here and a tuck there, then, “It is finished.” She held out a small looking glass.

  Kirstyn took it from her and gazed at herself. It had been a long time since she’d seen herself, as she and Anna had no looking glass. Kirstyn recoiled from her own image. Her skin was white and pasty from not being out in the sun. Her cheekbones jutted out, hollowing her cheeks. She’d never been so thin.

  “I look . . . bad.”

  “You don’t like your hair? I can rearrange it.”

  “Oh, no, you did a very good job with it. Thank you so much. I just . . . I don’t look the same as I did before . . . before they . . . well, before.” Could Aladdin possibly still think she was pretty? Or was he secretly as horrified as she was at how altered she looked? He was too kind to say so.

  Her stomach suddenly was fluttering like birds’ wings at seeing him again.

  “If you are sure you like your hair, you can join Aladdin and the others.”

  Kirstyn stood on shaky legs, reminding her how hungry she was and that she was not used to so much activity. She stepped to the curtain and Hilde pushed it aside for her.

  Aladdin stood at the end of the dimly lit corridor. He turned as she walked toward him.

  “There you are.” He met her halfway and held out his arm. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, thanks to Hilde. The bath was wonderful, and I believe I have Grethel to thank for this lovely gown.”

  He smiled down at her. It was so good to see his smile, Kirstyn felt the tears threaten. Dear Lord of heaven, help me not to make a fool of myself. I am so weepy. Help me overcome.

  Aladdin led her into the main room of the house. Three people sat at a table in the center of the room, and all three turned to look at her.

  Her stomach fluttered even more as she smiled and nodded at them, but none of them smiled back.

  Herr Kaufmann seemed to recover himself somewhat. He stood and motioned with his hand. “Please, sit down, Lady Kirstyn.”

  A young boy stared at her with his mouth open and eyes wide. And the third person was a pretty young woman with dark hair. She must be Grethel.

  “Please allow me to present my daughter, Grethel, and this is Abu. Grethel and Abu, we have visiting with us Lady Kirstyn, the daughter of the Duke of Hagenheim.”

  “Thank you so very much for your hospitality, Herr Kaufmann. I am grateful. And it is a pleasure to meet your family.” She smiled again at Grethel and then Abu.

  Kirstyn had used her smile many times to make people like her. It always seemed to work. Until now. Grethel stared at her as if Kirstyn had just slapped her. And Abu’s eyes told her he was afraid she was about to steal his favorite person.

  Aladdin seated her beside Abu and across the table from Grethel and him. At least she would have one friendly face to look at. But what did Aladdin really think when he looked at her skinny, sickly pale face?

  The servants brought out bowls of soup and bread. Kirstyn immediately dipped her beautifully carved and polished wooden spoon into the soup. She probably should have been embarrassed at the “Mmm” sound she made as the flavors burst on her tongue, but she simply kept eating. The soup tasted of broth, bits of beef, leeks, carrots, and quinces, among other things. Delicious!

  When she was spooning up the last bite, she noticed how quiet everyone else at the table was—and how bad her manners were, as she was just now glancing up from her food.

  Herr Kaufmann, Aladdin, Grethel, and even Abu were all looking at her.

  She set down her spoon. “That was the best soup I’ve ever tasted.”

  Aladdin smiled. “It is very good.” He raised his spoon to his mouth.

  Abu said, “Hilde makes sweet pies and cakes and fruit pasties. She is the best!”

  Kirstyn could appreciate his enthusiasm, as well as his list of favorite foods. Now Grethel was the only one not smiling. She was staring down at her soup, her lips pursed together and her jaw set.

  A frisson of foreboding rippled through Kirstyn. What could she have done to make Grethel angry?

  “Thank you, Grethel, for allowing me to borrow your gown. It is very generous of you.”

  “That dress never fit me anyway.” Grethel sat up straighter, as if to draw attention to her figure, which was fuller than Kirstyn’s had been even before her abduction.

  “I do thank you. The color is beautiful, and since I seem to have gotten thinner, it fits me very well.”

  Kirstyn knew that having a fuller figure was considered more attractive and conducive to bearing children, and therefore more desirable. She stared down at her clasped hands in her lap, again blinking back tears.

  Frau Hilde entered the room with a large platter of roasted pheasant swimming in a delicious-smelling gravy. A large helping was spooned onto her trencher of bread. It was enough to cheer anyone, and when everyone had been served, Kirstyn began to eat. But this time she remembered to look up at the others between bites.

  “Abu, what have you accomplished today?” Aladdin asked.

  Abu slumped a bit and stared at his food. “The teaching master is forcing me to learn arithmetic.”

  “Not forcing you. You must think of it as helping you to learn it.”

  Abu did not answer, but he sighed. “I will learn it because you and Herr Kaufmann want me to learn it.” But his expression was quite sad.

  Aladdin smiled and Herr Kaufmann said, “Thank you. And you may come to enjoy learning someday. Like Aladdin.”

  Abu heaved another sigh.

  The pheasant and its accompanying spicy gravy were quite delicious, and Kirstyn ate the dish with one of the wheat rolls. But before she was finished with her helping, she began to feel as if all the food might come back up. She stopped eating and sipped the fruit drink she had asked for in place of wine. It had been so long since she had drunk wine, she did not think it would sit well with her.

  The meal went on for two more courses, but Kirstyn was only able to eat a few more bites. The conversation eventually turned to her parents.

  “I am eager to see them.” She forced herself to downplay her emotions and speak calmly.

  “When the time comes,” Herr Kaufmann said, “I shall send my guards to accompany you home.”

  “Thank you. That is very generous.” Her stomach sank. Wouldn’t Aladdin also accompany her?

  “I wrote to your father while you were getting ready for supper.” Aladdin drew out a rolled piece of parchment from inside his waistcoat. “You can read it and add anything you wish.”

  “Oh. But . . . can we not leave in the morning? We’ll arrive the same time as my letter.”

  Aladdin’s expression was gentle. “We will need you to remain here long enough to tell your story to the town council so they can judge your abductors. I am sorry. I hope it will only be two or three days at most.”

  “Of course.” But she felt as if a huge boulder had been dropped on her. She stared at the table and took deep breaths, needing a few moments to overcome her distress. If only she and Aladdin were alone and these strangers were not staring at her.

 
; “The letter will reach your parents before we ever could, and we will follow it on our way to Hagenheim very soon.”

  We. He said “we” would go to Hagenheim. The heavy feeling lifted a little.

  When she looked up, Grethel’s expression arrested Kirstyn’s attention. Grethel’s eyes narrowed, and she turned to glare at Aladdin. Then she stood and stalked out of the room.

  Aladdin’s jaw twitched and he swallowed hard.

  “Grethel?” her father called after her. But then the corners of his mouth drooped and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “Will you excuse me? I shall see what is the matter.” He pushed himself back from the head of the table and slowly left the room.

  “May I go play?” Abu asked.

  “Yes, you may,” Aladdin answered.

  Abu ran out, and she and Aladdin were alone in the dining hall.

  “Is something wrong?” Kirstyn asked softly. “I sense that my presence is not entirely . . . wanted.”

  Aladdin got up from his seat, came around the table, and sat beside Kirstyn.

  “I want you here. Very much.” He gazed deeply into her eyes, his expression intense. “Herr Kaufmann and his daughter are kind people. There is nothing for you to be anxious about.”

  She drank in his features, so familiar to her, and yet there were subtle changes since she’d last seen him. He was a bit darker—he must have been in the sun more since he left Hagenheim. His face had filled out a bit, and he had more black stubble on his cheeks and chin. He was no longer the orphan boy. He was a very handsome, powerful man.

  Aladdin picked up the parchment from the table and held it in front of her. “Will you write something in the letter for your parents?”

  “Yes.”

  He fetched an ink pot and quill while she unrolled the letter and read it. She couldn’t help imagining how her parents would feel when they saw it. She had to take a deep breath.

  She took the pen from Aladdin and wrote,

  I love you, Mother and Father. I want you to know I am well and that Aladdin is taking care of me. I will be coming home to you very soon, and I want many hugs and kisses from my family when I arrive. Your loving daughter, Kirstyn.