When he arrived below, the air was frigid. The prison guard led him to a wooden door with only a small slot that would fit a plate. When he unlocked the door, Gerlach strode inside and saw his wife sitting upon a bench, staring at the wall. Her blond hair was greasy, her face pale. When she saw him, she started crying.
He gripped her in an embrace, stroking her hair and murmuring words of comfort. Her tears dampened his shirt, and when he asked his wife if she was all right, she shook her head.
‘No. They’ve taken Wilhelm into this place, and I’ve heard him crying at night.’ She took his hands in hers, and gripped them hard. ‘Get him out. I don’t care what you have to do. He can’t live like this.’
The cool fury tightened into a shield of ice over his heart. ‘I swear I will.’ Inwardly he wanted to damn Freiherr Albert to hell. The man cared nothing about right and wrong. He could only view the world through the king’s commands.
‘I’ll get both of you out,’ Gerlach promised. ‘I swear it.’
And as he held her close, he wondered if he’d pay the price of their freedom with his life.
Serena found it impossible to sleep upon the rough pallet. She guessed it was near midnight, but she’d tossed and turned for hours, thinking of Karl. She’d ordered him to leave, and he had. Without a word or an argument.
It hadn’t brought her the relief she’d expected. Instead, she’d felt dissatisfied and troubled. It was right to send him away, but her stomach twisted with the unsettled feelings. Perhaps food would satisfy her anxiety.
Her gown was still a bit damp, but considerably drier than it had been, so Serena pulled it over her head and buttoned it up the front. She didn’t bother with stockings, but slipped her bare feet into her shoes. Inside the abbey, it was quiet, and she supposed the prince must be asleep in his own room.
She crossed through the hall and toward the spiral stone staircase. Holding on to the wall, she made her way down to the main hall. To her surprise, she found Fürst Karl sitting by the fire, staring into the flames.
‘What is it?’ he asked, when he saw her coming closer.
‘I couldn’t sleep. I was hungry, so I thought I’d see if there was food in the storage cellar.’
‘The biscuits were good,’ he told her. ‘I suppose we could cook more, if you’re willing.’
‘No.’ The idea of preparing another meal didn’t appeal to her at all. ‘I’ll see what else I can find.’
‘What were you hoping for?’
‘I won’t know until I see it.’
Karl stood from his chair and brought out a lamp, shadowing her as she moved to the back of the abbey, where another staircase led below ground.
‘Will Father Durin mind if we take some of his food?’ she asked him.
‘No.’
The air grew cooler as she moved down the stairs. The lamp flared in the darkness, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. Then she spied different baskets and wooden containers. She opened one, then another, finding frozen slabs of meat, dried fruits and vegetables, and finally, a store of nuts.
‘Hazelnuts,’ she beamed, holding up the small wooden bowl. With a smile, she told him, ‘At Christmas, I used to drink cups of chocolate while nibbling on these.’
‘Then take them.’
‘Was there something you enjoyed as a boy?’ she asked. ‘Anything that you loved?’
His eyes grew distant for a moment. ‘When I was ten years old, we had an assortment of ice creams. Our cook made a raspberry ice cream once,’ he admitted. Serena tried to imagine Karl as a young boy, gorging on raspberry ice cream. Somehow, the image didn’t fit. He was always so serious, so rigid in his demeanour, she couldn’t envision him as a child.
He returned to the staircase, raising the lamp while she followed with the hazelnuts. She hadn’t found a nutcracker in the storage chamber, and it was raining harder now. There had to be something else they could use.
The interior of the abbey was cold, and several pots rested beneath the leaks in the roof. Serena moved to sit by the fire, and Karl joined her. ‘These aren’t shelled,’ she explained. ‘We’ll have to find a way to crack them.’ Eyeing their surroundings, she wasn’t quite certain what to use. ‘Do you know what we can use?’
‘Wait here.’ The fürst disappeared for a few moments while Serena warmed herself by the fire. She placed a few of the hazelnuts within the coals, to roast them while she waited. In the dark silence, it felt almost intimate to be sitting here, alone with the prince.
When he returned at last, he held two large stones. She hid her smile. ‘So, we’re to bash them apart with rocks?’
‘Have you a better idea?’
‘It wasn’t a criticism,’ she said, reaching out for one of the stones. It was larger than her hand and was heavier than she’d expected it to be. She knelt down beside the fire and laid out a handful of nuts. With a resounding whack, she struck the shells repeatedly, until they cracked open.
‘I’m not certain I should be near you when you’re attacking them like that,’ he ventured. ‘You look rather dangerous.’
‘Not at all,’ she corrected. ‘I find it invigorating.’ Gesturing toward him, she suggested, ‘Why don’t you try it?’
The prince picked up a single hazelnut, and with one crushing blow, he obliterated the nut.
Serena stared at him with a raised eyebrow. ‘Remind me not to make you angry. You’ve pulverised it.’
His mouth twitched. ‘Perhaps a bit too much force.’ He set the stone down. ‘What if I allow you to crack the shells, and I’ll remove the meat?’
‘All right.’
They spent the next half hour cracking nuts, dividing their spoils between them. Serena nibbled at the hazelnuts and remarked to the prince, ‘You know, you’re not so bad to be around when you’re not giving orders.’
‘Is that a compliment or an insult?’ he asked, handing her a nut.
She hadn’t quite meant it that way. ‘A compliment, I suppose.’
Karl picked up another nut and reached toward her mouth. Serena tried to take it from him, but then realised he intended to feed it to her.
‘Aren’t you afraid I might bite?’ she murmured, opening her mouth to receive it. When she bit down on the savory nut, his fingers grazed her lips.
He placed another nut in her fingertips, but guided this one to his own mouth. ‘Are you afraid I’ll bite?’
She shook her head, only to be proven wrong when he took her fingers into the warmth of his mouth, nibbling them gently. She pulled them back, staring at him. Something had shifted, and what had begun as a simple pastime was now becoming more sensual.
‘I don’t think you should—’
‘—try to seduce you?’ he finished. ‘Are you still going to pretend that there’s nothing between us?’
Karl pulled her up to stand in front of him. Her shoulders pressed against his chest while his hands spanned her waist. ‘You asked me to leave you alone earlier. And yet, here you are.’
He reached to the pins that barely held locks of her hair in place, releasing them. Her hair dropped around her shoulders, and his hands moved the length of it aside. His mouth moved to her ear. ‘You wanted me to stay, didn’t you?’
She did, heaven help her. ‘You frighten me.’
‘You’re afraid of the way I make you feel,’ he murmured, nipping at her jaw. ‘You know I’ll bring you pleasure when you take me inside of you.’
The words were arousing, making her lean back against him. She didn’t deny that he made her feel things she didn’t understand. And if she didn’t return to her room this very moment, she was going to regret it.
With all of her willpower, she stepped out of his arms and turned to face him. ‘I don’t doubt that you’ll make another princess happy in your marriage bed. But it won’t be me.’
And as she swept aside, returning to her chamber, she couldn’t forget the shielded look on his face … of a man who didn’t seem to care. Was it a mask? Or was it the t
ruth?
Chapter Nine
Gerlach stood upon the shores of Vertraumen. It had rained all night, and his clothing was soaked. He stared at the green island, while the waves sloshed against the sand. In all his years of service, he’d never imagined he’d have to betray the princess like this
But there was no choice. His wife and son were at the mercy of the Baron, and once the king learned of his role in the princess’s escape, all of them could pay the price.
He had to bring her back or risk harm to those he loved.
Along the edge of the sand, he walked for hours. Past the houses belonging to the middle class and a few of the wealthy. He searched for poverty, for only there would he find the sort of men he needed—desperate folk who wouldn’t hesitate to bring him his hostage. And he needed men who could scour the island until the princess was found.
When he reached the outskirts of the town, he found shelters held together with wood and rusted nails. A child stood watching him from the door, a young boy perhaps three years of age. His face was dirty, and he looked hungry.
Gerlach’s throat burned, but he walked toward the house. A father would do anything for his child’s welfare. Even betray an angel.
He voiced a prayer of forgiveness, for what he had to do now.
The pounding sound wouldn’t stop. Serena groaned and buried her head deeper under the coverlet. She was shivering, and the idea of removing her body from the bed was akin to freezing to death.
Only when the door flew open, did she shriek and open her eyes.
‘What did you do to my shirt?’ the prince demanded, tossing the garment at her.
‘I … washed it?’ She stared at Karl with groggy eyes, wondering why he was in her chamber. When she sat up from the wretched mattress, she saw her gown drying near the fireplace.
Which meant she was naked beneath the coverlet and the prince was getting an eyeful of her bare shoulders and side.
‘It’s pink, for God’s sakes! What did you put in the water?’
She closed her eyes and lay back down on the pallet. ‘My red cloak. I thought I could wash both of them together.’
‘Obviously not.’ The words came out in a growl, and his ill temper was too much to endure at this early hour.
‘How was I supposed to know this would happen?’ He ought to be grateful that she’d washed it at all. Hadn’t she spent most of yesterday cooking for him, straightening up the abbey and laundering their clothes?
‘I thought you had a book.’
‘It said nothing about washing a red cloak and a white shirt. Or washing clothes at all, for that matter.’ Rolling over, she pulled the blanket tighter and offered, ‘You might look fetching in pink.’
‘Princess,’ he growled. In his voice, she heard the threatening anger. And yet, she wasn’t at all intimidated by him. Even with all his bluster, the prince had never dared to lay a hand on her. All he’d done was kiss her.
And that, admittedly, had been rather pleasant.
‘Go away,’ she ordered. ‘I need to get dressed.’
‘So do I,’ he reminded her. ‘And I’m not wearing that.’
‘Fine. Go and look through the priest’s clothes. I’m certain you’ll find something black to match your mood.’
When the door closed, Serena kept the coverlet firmly wrapped around her body, in case he decided to invade her chamber again.
It took half an hour to get dressed, since she couldn’t quite get her chemise and petticoats fastened the way she wanted to. The gown felt awkward buttoned up the front, but she reminded herself there were only two more days.
After that, she could have a lady’s maid once more. She smiled to herself as she finger-combed her hair and prepared to face the second day.
When she wandered down the stairs, the hall was cold and dark. The morning weather had shifted into sunlight while the hearth had died down to coals. Fürst Karl was trying to stoke it and she saw him wearing an oversized shirt that bunched at his waist.
All right, so she did feel guilty about dying his shirt pink. But it truly had been an accident.
When the prince couldn’t get the wood to light, he cursed beneath his breath.
‘The logs are wet, aren’t they?’ she predicted. All around the hearth, she spied puddles from where the roof had leaked.
Karl nodded. ‘It will be cold inside today.’
‘But at least the rain has stopped.’ She pointed up at the large glass windows. ‘I thought I’d explore the area around the abbey today. From the top of the hillside, I imagine we could see all around the island.’
‘There’s too much to do,’ he argued. ‘We need more food and a fire.’
‘I want to see if Durin has a garden, and I’ll try to find some herbs and vegetables.’ She walked to the doorway, adding, ‘The book of cooking receipts that I brought with me has excellent drawings. I’m certain I can identify what I need.’
She reached for her cloak and held out her hand. ‘Won’t you come with me?’
He looked annoyed, as if he’d rather remain within the leaking walls. But at last he relented. ‘For an hour.’
It would be far longer than an hour, but she didn’t tell him that. Serena handed him his great coat, saying, ‘I’ll go and fetch a basket and my book.’ She intended to pack a picnic luncheon, as well. It would be her atonement for ruining his shirt.
Karl crossed the room and brought ammunition and his revolver. ‘I’ll bring the weapons.’
Because every picnic needed guns. Serena resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
Outside, the ground was damp, and Serena studied the book, recognising turnips in Father Durin’s garden. It was too early for any other vegetables, but there were a few potatoes and carrots she’d seen in the priest’s cellar last night. She might be able to prepare a vegetable stew.
From the herb garden, she selected cuttings of rosemary and sage, which she added to her basket. Karl looked impatient, as though he’d rather be anywhere else but here. His hand remained inside his coat, taking comfort from the revolver.
After she’d collected her plants, she continued climbing up the pathway leading to the top of the hill. Karl followed behind, but he looked disgruntled at the walk. The dark forest surrounded them, the sun skimming the edges of the trees, casting shadows over the lichen and moss.
Serena climbed higher on the pathway, holding on to the narrow trees to help keep her balance. The walk was more difficult than she’d realised, and perspiration dampened the back of her neck. She stopped a moment to rest, and when Karl caught up, he asked, ‘Do you want to go back?’
‘Not when I’ve come this far. It’s only a little farther.’ She caught her breath and continued ahead, until at last she reached the hill summit. The ground flattened into a small, grassy clearing with a stone altar in the centre, adorned with a carved limestone cross. It was old, overgrown with moss, but she imagined the monks climbing the hill and saying their prayers here.
She set down her basket and chose a spot in front of the altar. The air was cool, and she adjusted her cloak around her shoulders. Leaning back against the stone, she drew her knees up beneath her gown and stared at the glittering sea. The grey waters had calmed somewhat, though the waves were still choppy. In the distance, she spied a few lone fishermen with their boats.
Karl stood beside her, his eyes narrowed as he took in the view. He seemed unable to relax at all, for he studied the landscape with the eye of a man who saw only the problems and none of the beauty.
‘Will you sit with me?’ she asked.
‘No, I’d rather stand. And we’ll be going back soon enough.’ He shielded his eyes against the sun and turned back toward the path.
‘Not yet. I thought we could eat our luncheon here.’ She opened the basket and revealed the food she’d packed: a flask of wine, some of the sugar biscuits, and a jar of strawberry preserves. Though it wasn’t the most elegant selection of foods, she thought she’d done well enough.
Karl
stared at the food, not speaking a word. It seemed that she’d confounded him once again.
‘You really believed I would give up, didn’t you?’ she said softly. ‘Even though I told you luxuries weren’t important to me.’
His gaze fastened upon her face, and there was a subtle defensive shift in his features. ‘This isn’t over yet, Princess.’
Karl didn’t sit, though he knew Serena expected it. Her words sank into him with the realisation that she was right. He didn’t know her at all, but he’d placed her in the same class of every other princess who would fall into hysterics if there was the tiniest flaw in her food.
All of them would have wailed at the prospect of cooking a meal; instead, Serena had only asked that he help her. Her fortitude was like nothing he’d ever seen before.
She stood up from the basket and took his hand. ‘For ten minutes, stop being a prince, and just be an ordinary man. Sit and enjoy yourself.’
He guessed she was trying to ease his tension, to break up his mood. But the words only reminded him that he was a nobody now. A man without a throne, without a future.
He pulled his hand back. ‘I don’t want to stop being a prince, Serena. It’s who I am. It’s who I’ve always been.’ The words came out harsher than he’d meant, but it was too late to take them back.
Serena returned her attention to the basket and shrugged. ‘I only meant … for a few minutes.’
Her confusion was justified, and he realised how brutish he’d sounded. She didn’t know what had happened within his kingdom. And once she did, she’d want nothing more to do with him.
If he had any sort of honour, he’d tell her right now that he was illegitimate and had no claim to any kingdom. He ought to let her go.
But if he did, he’d have to face a life he didn’t want.
She stared at him, and he looked away at the sea. ‘Forgive me. It’s just the … falling out with my father.’
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