The Captive Maiden (10 page)

Every eye was on her, including her stepmother’s and stepsisters’, she thought absently. But Gisela only had eyes for Valten.

Valten’s squire ran forward and took off his helmet, then took his lance. Valten dismounted — very nimbly for a man clad in so much armor—and made his way up the gallery steps. The crowd parted for him like the Red Sea. He fell to one knee before Gisela, and it was as if they were the only two people at the tournament.

Valten picked up the circlet and placed it on her head.

Beads of sweat had tracked lines through the dust on his face. A new trickle of blood was seeping down his cheek from his left eye again, as his cut had reopened. But even in his disheveled state, she was sure she had never seen anyone more masculine and handsome. His gray-green eyes fixed her with a gaze that was for her alone.

Her heart pounded. The tournament champion was supposed to give the Queen of Beauty and Love a kiss. Surely he wouldn’t truly kiss her, not on the lips. But the way he was looking at her, she was not sure at all.

“My queen.” He bowed his head and took her hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

He rose from his knee and held out his arm to her. She placed her hand on his forearm, on top of her own scarf, which was still tied there. Their eyes remained locked on each other.

The crowd erupted in cheers and shouts, a roar that filled Gisela’s ears but didn’t make the moment feel any more real. She felt as if she was floating, as if the world around her was misty and indistinct. This moment was a dream, and though she stood, her feet didn’t touch the ground.

Valten started down the steps, and somehow Gisela managed to walk down beside him. The next thing she knew, there was a horse in front of her, a beautiful white mare with flowers braided into her mane and a sidesaddle on her back. Valten placed his hands around Gisela’s waist and lifted her onto the horse as easily as if she were a child. He mounted his own horse, and they made their way toward the castle.

The cheering crowds made way for them, parting and throwing flowers onto the road in front of them.

She spent most of her time looking at Valten, and he didn’t seem to mind, since he was mostly looking at her, especially as they left the crowd behind and descended the gentle hill to the Hagenheim entry gate. But for one moment, maybe two, she wondered what her stepmother would think, and pictured the look on her face at seeing Valten crown Gisela the Queen of Beauty and Love.

Chapter
9

Valten’s mother and sisters took her into their
care once they arrived at the castle, while Valten went to take a bath, or “to make himself more presentable,” as Lady Rose explained it.

Valten’s sisters, Margaretha and Kirstyn, were Irma and Contzel’s opposites. They were warm and friendly, smiling and kind from the moment they greeted her when she arrived in the Great Hall, which was still empty except for the duke and his family and the servants who were busy running to and fro.

Margaretha took her arm and led her to a prominent seat at the duke’s own table on the raised dais. “You must be tired and thirsty.” Margaretha was a lovely girl, and Gisela secretly hoped they would become friends, as Margaretha appeared to be only a little younger than Gisela.

Immediately, a servant stood at her elbow offering her a tankard.

“Thank you.” Gisela took a sip of something fruity and slightly sweet. She rarely drank anything except water, and the occasional water-and-wine at her neighbor Ava’s home. This was something different, but she liked it, and took a long drink.

She looked up from the rim of her cup to see Margaretha smiling at her. “Do you know that everyone is talking about you, saying how beautiful you are? And everyone is wondering who
you are. No one seems to know your name. Does Valten know you? Are you and Valten sweethearts?”

“You shouldn’t ask so many questions.” Kirstyn frowned at Margaretha and moved closer. Valten’s second sister looked to be about fourteen years old, not as tall as Margaretha, and with lighter hair.

Kirstyn looked sympathetically at Gisela. “If you let her, Margaretha will talk you to death. But we love her anyway.”

Margaretha smiled. “I do talk too much. It’s my worst fault. At least, I hope it is, because I know sometimes we never realize our faults, while they’re glaringly obvious to everyone else.” She raised her eyebrows at Kirstyn, then turned back to Gisela. “Do you know what I mean?”

Gisela smiled back at her. “I do.”

“Shall we try to guess your name?” Margaretha went on. “Perhaps it is Gertrude. Or Elsa?”

“Close. It is Gisela.”

“That is a lovely name, and it suits you perfectly. I’m surprised I didn’t guess it.” Margaretha clasped her hands over her heart.

“Very lovely,” Kirstyn agreed.

After speaking to a couple of servants at the other end of the Great Hall, Lady Rose joined them. She laid a gentle hand on Gisela’s arm. “We are so pleased to have you join us tonight for the banquet. If there is anything you wish, anything at all, you have only to tell us. And tomorrow it will be the same.”

“Thank you.”

Valten’s mother smiled so kindly, Gisela felt a strange yearning in her heart, and a sudden panic that these people would not treat her so well if they knew who she truly was — a girl without family, and certainly not a wealthy noble, which was the only kind of bride Valten, as a future duke, would take. Perhaps she should go ahead and tell them to avoid any future disappointment.

The banquet guests began to enter the Great Hall. The room became noisy as the people took their seats.

Gisela saw the moment Evfemia, Irma, and Contzel entered through the door. Evfemia fixed her gaze on Gisela, her expression as sly and calculating as any fox. She and her two daughters sat where they’d have a clear view of Gisela, but at a lower table too far away for them to speak to her.

Gisela tried to ignore them. What might they do or say to try to destroy her night? She tried to believe they couldn’t do anything, but she’d made the mistake of underestimating them before. They had ruined friendships in the past, out of jealousy, and there was no knowing what they might do to ruin her in the eyes of Valten and his family.

Even worse than the cold anger and scheming looks of her stepmother and stepsisters was Rainhilda’s amused derision. The resplendently dressed knight’s daughter sat at the upper dais with her mother and a younger cousin, across the table, not far from Gisela. Rainhilda smirked until Gisela met her gaze. Then Rainhilda whispered in her cousin’s ear. They broke into raucous giggles, shooting glances first at Gisela, then turning around and catching Irma’s eye.

Gisela gritted her teeth and pretended not to notice them. She certainly wasn’t dressed as extravagantly as Rainhilda, but their treatment of her only made her lift her head higher and determine not to behave as though she was any less than any other maiden in the room.
We shall see what is more important to Valten and his family, whether it be fine clothes and social status, or
… what Gisela had. She wasn’t sure what that was, but if Valten valued sincerity over pride and malice, then Gisela wouldn’t have to behave haughtily to win Valten’s heart.

She refused to compare herself to Rainhilda. Gisela would enjoy this night, this banquet, sitting with Valten’s sisters, and being chosen by Valten. She would squeeze every bit of joy out
of this banquet, because her stepmother would make her pay dearly for every moment of it as soon as she got her home.

Margaretha asked, “Have you and Valten met before today?”

Gisela didn’t mind telling Margaretha the story of Valten coming to her rescue in the street when Friedric Ruexner was harassing her. While Lady Rose and Kirstyn leaned in to listen, she told how they had gone to the stables and how much Gisela had enjoyed seeing the horses.

The subject of horses sent Margaretha on a long discourse on the animal. “Horses are very loyal, I have found, and they seem to have a sense about them, an understanding that tells them if a person is good or bad. They will shy away from an angry person, and yet they are drawn to a kind person. They never forget someone they love, and they will recognize people even after not seeing them for years. Did you know that?”

“Horses are intelligent creatures.”

“My youngest sister, Adela, is afraid of horses and won’t go near them, but I love my mare.”

Gisela and Margaretha continued talking about horses as the servants began bringing out the first course of the meal and filling all the guests’ goblets with wine, including an extra goblet beside Gisela.

Lady Rose seemed to notice her looking at the goblet. “That is for Valten. He will sit next to you and should be here soon. Actually, there he is.” Her face lit up as she focused on someone behind Gisela.

Gisela looked over her shoulder. Valten strode toward her, now dressed in a green doublet, white shirt, and black hose. He looked clean and a bit pale, making the black stitches over his eye more noticeable. He had not shaved, and the light brown stubble made him look even more rugged than usual.

She tried to appear regal and relaxed while refusing to look at Rainhilda. God,
help me not to disgrace the one who has chosen me.

Valten stepped over the bench and sat down beside Gisela. He looked at her and almost smiled — that softening of his expression. Gisela smiled back.

Just then, Duke Wilhelm stood where he had been sitting at the head of the table. The room gradually grew quiet.

“Thank you all for accepting our invitation to this banquet. Lady Rose and I are happy to honor our brave knights who have taken part in the competition of this, our first Hagenheim tournament.”

The guests cheered almost as tumultuously as they had at the lists earlier in the day. At that moment, Gisela’s eye caught Friedric Ruexner’s, who was sitting at a lower table with several other knights. He was scowling at Valten in a way that sent a shiver down her back. His gaze then shifted to Gisela, and he gave her a lecherous leer, kissed his two fingers, then raised them in a sort of salute to her. She shuddered and quickly looked at Valten, not realizing she was leaning toward him until her shoulder touched his. He looked from his father to Gisela. She felt instantly safer.

Duke Wilhelm raised his hand to quiet the crowd. “Lift your cup in deference to our tournament sovereign, Gisela” — Duke Wilhelm lifted his goblet high in the air — “the Queen of Beauty and Love.” He reached out to her.

Gisela took his hand and stood.

She looked around at all the people raising their goblets to her. She tried not to appear as terrified as she felt, and forced herself to smile and nod, thankful she had the presence of mind to pick up her own goblet. A cheer arose, then they all took a drink.

Perhaps not all. From the corner of her eye she noticed her stepmother and Irma did not partake.

Gisela sank back down on her bench.

“And let us drink to our day’s champion and victor, my son, Valten Gerstenberg, Earl of Hamlin.”

Another clamor of cheering went up, seeming to fill the high ceilinged hall and Gisela’s ears.

Valten stood and gave a small bow. He looked completely at ease, as if this was an ordinary moment for him. The crowd drank. Someone cried out, “To Lord Hamlin’s health!”

“Hear, hear!” they all shouted. Another man cried out, “To his prosperity!” And another cried, “To his future wife. May they have many children!”

Valten lifted his cup at the man. “I thank you.” And drank the entire goblet of wine.

The crowd shouted yet louder, and did not begin to quiet down until Valten had taken his seat again.

While it was still quite noisy, Valten did not speak to her, but began to eat, and Gisela did the same. She ate slowly, imagining who might be staring at her, but she was determined not to look. She was grateful to have Margaretha’s constant chatter on one side to distract her, and Valten on the other, like a rampart of safety.

Margaretha said she had never had a suitor and often wondered who her father would find for her to marry. “But I’m in no hurry to leave home. Factually speaking, I haven’t decided yet if I
will
marry, which is why Father still has not made any effort to find someone suitable for me. The idea of marriage isn’t altogether appealing. Do you know what I mean, Gisela?”

Gisela nodded thoughtfully. “I do. But I think I should like to marry someone who loved me.”

For nearly the first time since she had sat down, Margaretha was silent. Her brow furrowed and she pursed her lips and stared down at the table with clouded eyes, as if unseeing. Gisela took a bite of roast pheasant as she waited for Margaretha to speak.

“My parents love me so much, it’s hard for me to imagine a man loving me as much as they do.”

Gisela couldn’t help the slight frown that tugged at her
mouth. Margaretha’s life had been so different from Gisela’s. How similar might their lives have been if her parents had lived?

Gisela ate while glancing at Valten out of the corner of her eye. He systematically devoured his food and spoke briefly to his father or mother when they asked him a question about the joust. When he had eaten four courses, he stopped and told the servant he was finished. The servant cleared his place of his trencher and all traces of food, and refilled his goblet. Then he turned to Gisela.