Salvation by the Sea: The Tale of the Innkeeper's Maid (Fairetellings Book 4)

by Kristen Reed

  “Of course! I prayed for forgiveness and thank God every day for delivering me from it …”

  “But?”

  “But ever since I rescued the prince, I keep hearing a voice in my mind whispering that I’m unworthy of everyone’s kindness … that Hal—no one would dare accept me if they knew the truth. I thought I came to terms with my past years ago, but the moment I recognized him, every insecurity I thought I cast off came roaring back to life.”

  The priest gestured to Muirigan’s Bible.

  “May I?”

  Muirigan handed the book to the holy man, and he flipped through the delicate pages.

  “Are you familiar with the book of Joshua?”

  “No, my family mostly kept to the Gospels and the Psalms.”

  “Well, my dear, I have quite a treat for you! In the second chapter, Joshua sent two Israelite men to Jericho to spy out the land on his behalf. A woman named Rahab took them in and hid them from their enemies. Her information proved valuable for the Israelites, and she was spared when the Lord gave them the city. Do you know how the Bible describes Rahab?”

  “No.”

  “‘And Joshua the son of Nun sent two men secretly from Shittim as spies, saying, “Go, view the land, especially Jericho.” And they went and came into the house of a prostitute whose name was Rahab and lodged there,’” the priest quoted. “Rahab sold herself as well, but she joined the Israelites after they defeated Jericho. She married a man named Salmon, and they had a son named Boaz. Do you recognize his name?”

  “Yes, he married Ruth.”

  “Exactly! And do you know who descended from them?”

  Muirigan shook her head, prompting the smiling priest to breeze through her Bible again.

  “‘And Salmon begat Boaz, and Boaz begat Obed, and Obed begat Jesse, and Jesse begat David,’” he read. “Rahab, a woman first introduced as a harlot, was one of King David’s direct ancestors, which also puts her in the lineage of our Savior Jesus Christ. Furthermore, she has a place of honor in Hebrews 11, which speaks of her faithfulness in receiving the spies peacefully. You are both repentant, redeemed women of faith who God has seen fit to raise above their past circumstances. A great king and the Messiah were her descendants, and you now share a home with the most powerful men and women in Villriket. The Lord has completely forgiven you, and it seems like he’s restoring what this broken world took from you in the miraculous way that only he can. You are a child of God, and anyone who believes the same of himself will embrace you with love and acceptance regardless of your past. Whatever condemnation you’ve been struggling with is from the prince of lies himself. Don’t believe a word he says! Do you understand me?”

  Seeing the tears shining in Muirigan’s eyes, Father Ruben wrapped his arms around her. She wet his cassock with joyful tears, feeling as if he’d lifted a load too burdensome for her to bear from her shoulders. When her sobs subsided minutes later, Muirigan pulled away from the priest smiling and blotting her tearstained cheeks with a handkerchief.

  “Thank you, Father Ruben.”

  “You’re welcome, child,” he smiled. “Now, what is your name? I’ve heard whispers about you for days, but I have yet to learn your name.”

  “Muirigan Abramsen.”

  His white eyebrows arched in shock.

  “As in the late Lord Steinar Abramsen’s daughter?”

  “Yes. Did you know my father?”

  “Quite well actually! The viscount would always engage me in conversation after each service when he was at court. I always admired his kind, soft heart. You clearly take after him in that regard. I also know that you and the prince were very close friends in your youth. Am I correct in assuming that he doesn’t realize who you are?”

  “Yes, I gave him a false name when I arrived. I didn’t want to tell the prince where I’ve been or what I’ve done since we last saw one another.”

  “Well, I understand your reservations, but lying is still a sin. While I won’t divulge your secrets to him or anyone else, I must warn you that the longer you let this charade go on, the more you’ll harm him and yourself when the truth comes out. What you confessed to me is in the past, but this deception is alive and needs to be put to death as soon as possible.”

  “I don’t know if I have the strength to tell him, Father.”

  “Then rely on Christ’s strength,” the priest urged, gesturing to the stained glass window. “His power is made perfect in your weakness, so lean on Him so that He can be glorified by bringing you through this. Don’t give Satan victory in this battle by letting sin’s destructive power reign in your life.”

  Muirigan nodded in reluctant agreement.

  “All right. I don’t know if I can tell Halvard today, but I promise that I will.”

  “Good. Now, I must finish preparing for a meeting I have in about ten minutes, but may I pray for you before I go?”

  “Yes! Please do.”

  Father Ruben knelt before the pew, bowed his head, and closed his eyes, prompting Muirigan to do the same.

  “Our Father in Heaven, thank you for bringing this sweet daughter of yours to my attention today and giving me the chance to encourage her with your word. Stir your Holy Spirit within her to give her the courage and conviction she needs to do your will. Instill in her an identity that comes not from what she has or hasn’t done, but from what our Savior Jesus Christ did for her on the cross. I can see that a war is being waged for her heart, and she’s powerless to win it without you. I beseech you to protect her from the enemy’s attacks and from her flesh’s weakness as you reveal more of your perfect love to her. I pray this in your Son’s holy name. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Muirigan repeated. “Thank you, Father.”

  “You’re welcome. I will keep you in my prayers, my lady.”

  “I’m not a lady, Father Ruben.”

  “No, but you are one of God’s cherished daughters, which is worth far more than any earthly title,” he disputed as they stood up and moved into the aisle. “Have a lovely day.”

  “You too, and thank you again.”

  After bowing slightly to Muirigan, Father Ruben left the chapel. Though nothing about her predicament had been altered by her brief encounter with the priest, a renewed sense of hope and conviction filled her soul. She didn’t quite possess the strength to do so yet, but she resolved to confess her true identity to Halvard. Thus far, he had proven to be a compassionate man who was unconcerned by her social class. With a heart that was more heavy than hopeful, she prayed that his merciful acceptance would continue once he knew the whole truth.

  The Hansens would no doubt welcome her back to the inn and rightfully, lovingly chide her for lying, but she couldn’t fathom how the prince would react. Would Halvard continue being understanding or would he revert to Halvard the Hound when he discovered her past desperation and present duplicity?

  A chill shot through Muirigan’s bones as she imagined coming clean to her old friend and experiencing his legendary wrath. Shaking off the unwelcome sensation, she asked God to prepare her heart for whatever was to come … even if it meant being cast out of Halvard’s life forever.

  

  Following a lighthearted lunch with her newfound friends, Muirigan began her first dance lesson alongside Liesel. The instructor, Josef, took turns teaching the two ladies the waltz. The countess had only taken lessons for several weeks, but she floated across the floor with natural grace that no instructor could ever teach.

  Muirigan, on the contrary, possessed little confidence in her abilities … and the poor instructor’s toes suffered for it. Muirigan learned many complicated dances in her youth with precision and displayed poise that inspired envy in other ladies and pride in her parents. Unfortunately, constant worry about making a fool of herself with the dignified, silver-haired master of dance robbed Muirigan of her once sharp instincts. Quaking under the weight of his critical stare, she mistakenly looked at the walls several times, only to become dizzy and lose her footing.<
br />
  It was mortifying.

  Heeding the warning of his pained feet, the teacher opted to share the floor with Liesel for a spell. Josef instructed Muirigan to observe them and mirror Liesel’s graceful movements from the sidelines, where she could learn without magnifying his profound discomfort. As the pianist finished the latest triple meter song, unexpected applause echoed in the expansive room. The trio turned their attention to the doorway only to see Ingrid, Viggo, and Halvard grinning and cheering them on.

  “You’re both doing beautifully,” Viggo complimented.

  “I agree, but poor Sonja doesn’t have a partner,” Ingrid said.

  “Lady Liesel and I have been taking turns with Josef,” Muirigan explained.

  “That’s ridiculous! How can you both learn to dance with only one man to lead you?” Halvard asked. “I’ll step in and dance with you for the afternoon.”

  “Are you sure, Your Highness? We were only going to practice the dance one more time,” Josef said, casting a weary glance at Muirigan.

  “Yes,” he confirmed, bowing and offering Muirigan his hand. “May I have this dance, my lady?”

  “O-of course.”

  When Halvard took Muirigan into his strong arms, an unexpected shock galvanized them both. She gasped nearly inaudibly, too distracted by the intense sensation to notice how Halvard’s pulse and breathing quickened at her touch. The pianist played the tune again, and the prince gathered his wits in time to guide Muirigan around the room with some of the proficiency expected of a man of his caliber.

  While Halvard lacked the instructor’s professional bravado, dancing with him proved easier and more enjoyable. He twirled her around the ballroom, laughing at his own clumsiness from years spent holding guns while many of his friends became experts at impressing women. His missteps inspired giggles from Muirigan, whose radiant smile sparkled more to him than the crystal chandeliers above.

  For the first time that afternoon, Muirigan didn’t fear her partner’s judgment or disapproval. Everything and everyone around them fell away until nothing existed to Muirigan except the prince. Halvard’s gaze often wandered from Muirigan’s close-set green eyes to her slightly parted Cupid’s bow lips. Forgetting his manners, he found himself wondering if they felt as supple as they looked. Each time the thought crossed his mind, he rebuked himself for being so forward. Then, he lost himself in her green eyes again, finding them lovelier than the last time he beheld them and pleasantly perplexed by how profoundly she touched his heart.

  Muirigan too suffered from joyful incredulity as her awareness of Halvard’s unexpected fondness grew. When Halvard smiled and gazed at her with undivided attention, his heavily lashed, sparking blue eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the outer corners. His intent gaze shone with more affection and joy than any man had ever shown her since her father was alive.

  The two old friends glided across the floor with astonishing familiarity and grace. Yet Halvard struggled to focus on the triple meter song over Muirigan’s pulse, which he could feel beating through their clasped hands. By the time the pianist’s final note faded into silence, the prince and the maid were both left breathless more so from the emotional intensity of their waltz than its minimal toll on their athletic bodies. Rather than interrupting the tender moment, Ingrid addressed the others in attendance, trying in vain to conceal the hope and excitement welling up in her heart.

  “You dance brilliantly,” Halvard breathed.

  “So do you.”

  As the two delighted dancers joined the rest of the group, Muirigan’s tanned face flushed with rapture. In that moment, the joy in her heart easily could have drowned out every other emotion if not for the nagging dread deep in her troubled soul.

  

  Minutes before seven o’clock, Muirigan swung her door open to scamper downstairs for another delicious meal with the royal family only to find an unanticipated guest pacing outside her door.

  “Your Highness,” she gasped. “Did you need something?

  “No, I was coming to escort you to supper tonight,” Halvard smiled. “May I?”

  “Of course.”

  When Halvard looped Muirigan’s arm through his, her heart soared once more, and she fought to maintain her poise with every step they took away from her room.

  “I must admit, I didn’t just come here to walk you downstairs,” he divulged. “I wanted to speak with you about something in private.”

  Muirigan’s shoulders slumped.

  “All right,” she said.

  “I hope this isn’t too forward, but may I have the honor of dancing the first dance with you on Saturday night?”

  Muirigan’s foot caught on the hem of her dress and she stumbled slightly. As the prince steadied her, he prayed that he wasn’t being reckless by approaching her with so little preparation and forethought.

  “I almost asked you this afternoon during your lesson, but I didn’t want to pressure you into saying yes or frighten you into saying no by asking you with so many people around.”

  “Why would you want to dance with me? I’m not very good.”

  “You dance perfectly fine, Sonja.”

  Muirigan winced at the sound of her assumed name easing from Halvard’s lips.

  “Are you sure this is wise?”

  “Because you worked as a maid?”

  “Wouldn’t dancing with one of the other ladies in attendance be more appropriate,” she suggested.

  “I can’t think of anything better than starting the evening with a woman I greatly admire,” Halvard insisted.

  Admire? Surely he isn’t saying that he cares for me. That would be ludicrous, she refuted even as her rebellious spirit sang with joy.

  Hesitantly meeting Halvard’s eyes, Muirigan remembered the years of friendship that existed between them before tragedy’s cruel hand marred their lives. Though she admired the dashing prince for years before their separation, Muirigan always assumed that he wasn’t concerned about marriage. After all, his position gave him the freedom from the desperate race to seek security and a name for himself from a wealthy, titled wife.

  As a woman with years of pain separating her from her easy childhood, she placed a higher value on all forms of love than luxury and status. If Halvard was being genuine, his perspective had changed as well.

  But he doesn’t know who I am.

  “If I’m alone in my affections, I will withdraw my request for the sake of your comfort, but please don’t reject me because you think you’re beneath me. I don’t care if your hands have lifted a thousand gold-rimmed teacups or scrubbed a thousand floors. My heart’s desire is to spend the evening with you,” Halvard insisted. “I can give you more time if—”

  “The dance is yours, Your Highness.”

  “Perfect! And please call me Hal. I think we can both agree that we’re past titles at this point.”

  “All right … Hal.”

  Halvard’s lips stretched into an infectious grin, revealing the disarming dimples that he and his brother used to charm their way out of trouble as young boys. Muirigan smiled back at him with equal elation, commanding herself to remain calm and praying the tears in her eyes would remain unshed.

  Hal shouldn’t feel anything but pity for me, but somehow he does, Muirigan marveled. I can’t continue to abuse his kindness by being dishonest.

  As they continued their stroll to the State Dining Room, Muirigan resolved to tell Halvard the truth as soon as the ball was over … even if it destroyed his good opinion of her forever.

  Chapter 6

  When Muirigan awakened before daybreak, a smile already graced her lips. Recounting the previous evening’s delightful meal almost made her forget the grim task at hand for that night. As the rising sun chased away her memory of Halvard escorting her to supper and asking her to dance, she reluctantly peeled herself out of the bed. The prince and the other royals planned to spend the day finishing preparations for the ball and greeting their overnight guests, which gave Muirigan the fre
edom to spend her Saturday however she pleased until time came for her to don Ingrid’s unused gown.

  Making good use of her leisure time, Muirigan slipped down to the chapel in search of Father Ruben to ask for his prayers again. Alas, the old priest wasn’t in the chapel. Rather than abandoning her holy pursuit, Muirigan knelt at the altar rail, bowed her head, and shut her eyes. There, she asked God for the strength and faith to follow through with her commitment until she ran out of words for her creator and her knees ached from kneeling.

  Just as Muirigan abandoned her supplicant posture at the conclusion of her earnest entreaty, the twinkling of feminine laughter filled her ears. When the maid turned around to leave the sanctuary, she stumbled backward, grasping the altar rail when her legs lost their strength. After squeezing her eyes shut for a few ragged breaths and praying that they were deceiving her, she looked upon the unexpected visitors again. Sadly, Lisbet still sneered at her from the entrance to the chapel with the man who plagued her nightmares for years.

  It was the Count of Alfhilde.

  Muirigan hadn’t seen Torvald Ovesen since the night he bruised her body and broke her nose. She only escaped his assault because she kneed him in the groin and sprinted away as quickly as she could. To that day, Muirigan’s blood ran cold when she wondered what would have become of her if she’d failed to escape. Now, the cruel count stood a mere twenty feet away with his dark eyebrows raised in shock as a cheerful grin remained on his mustache adorned lips.

  Please don’t recognize me, Muirigan prayed, practically prying her hand from the railing and waiting for someone to end the earsplitting silence.

  “Father, this is the … woman I told you about, Sonja Voigt. She’s the servant who plucked the prince from the sea,” Lisbet introduced with a trace of annoyance in her cultured voice. “Sonja, this is my father Lord Torvald Ovesen, the Count of Alfhilde.”

  “I’d heard rumors about the mysterious mermaid of the Nerida Sea who rescued the prince, but no one told me how enchanting you were,” the count breathed. “However, you don’t really strike me as a Sonja.”