The Golden Braid (37 page)

“I can see why you would love her.”

“It was a boyish infatuation. You know how all the minstrels sing of courtly love and chivalry. I suppose I saw myself as her champion. But at some point, I realized Duke Wilhelm would not be tolerant of my infatuation, and I got over it.”

Rapunzel smiled. “Did you never have a sweetheart your own age?”

“There was a maidservant who very much wanted me to marry her when I was eighteen, but I told her many times that it was not
possible. And then I went with Valten to fight in the tournaments, and she married a cobbler's son.”

“Ah, yes. Because you wanted to make your fortune by marrying an heiress.”

“You make me sound very mercenary, and I was. But I've changed.” A mysterious look came over his face.

“You have changed?”

He nodded.

“How?”

“I will tell you . . . on the last day of our journey.”

“Very well. And when you tell me your secret on the last day of our journey, I shall tell you mine.” She resisted the urge to look at the scar on her hand. Instead, she raised her brows at him and gave him her own mysterious smile.

Rapunzel ran as fast as she could. Gothel was chasing her with a handful of holly berries. Rapunzel fell, her face landing hard in the dirt. She was just pushing herself up when she opened her eyes. It was a dream. She heard her own raspy breathing as she laid her head back down, but even though her eyes were open, she could see nothing but darkness. Why could she not see?

Then she remembered—she was in a cave with Sir Gerek, and he had extinguished the torches when they lay down to sleep.

She shivered as the dream came back to her. Gothel's eyes had been so vivid, so dark and sinister. Rapunzel's heart beat hard against her chest. She had been so afraid. And Sir Gerek had not been there. She'd wanted him to come and save her, but he was not there.

She reached out. Her hand touched something solid. She had
insisted that Gerek sleep next to her under the blanket, too afraid of the dark cave and the thought of some wild animal coming in and attacking them in their sleep. But once he had extinguished the torch, she had fallen asleep quickly.

“Rapunzel?” The vicinity of Gerek's voice let her know it was probably his arm she was touching. He rolled over and she felt his breath on her hand. “Are you well?”

“I-I had a bad dream . . . about Moth—about Gothel. But I am well.”

He put his arm around her and pulled her close. She buried her face in his chest.
O Lord God, please let this be love.

They lay perfectly still for a few moments before Gerek said, “Will you feel better when I get this torch lighted again?”

“I feel better now.” Her voice was muffled against his tunic.

She felt something briefly touch the top of her head. Had he just kissed her?

After a few more moments, she asked, “Do you think it's morning?”

“I'll go and find out. Stay here.”

He stood and she heard him moving toward the entrance. A few minutes later, he came back carrying the lighted torch.

“It's just after dawn.”

Rapunzel stood. Once outside again, Rapunzel was grateful to see it wasn't raining. The sun was up and casting a yellow light over everything.

Sir Gerek seemed eager to be off, so they ate quickly and left the little cave. Rapunzel was not so eager to make it back to Hagenheim, after Sir Gerek had said he would tell her his secret on the last day of their journey.

She was terrified to hope that he wanted to marry her, but couldn't seem to stop herself.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Gerek was glad the day had passed uneventfully. They
had only entered one village, where they had bought food and an extra blanket. He was too afraid of the temptation of sharing a blanket for another night.

Could she tell he was nervous, thinking about what he would say to her tomorrow? He was never more sure about anything than he was about asking her to marry him. And she would surely say yes. So why was he so nervous?

That night he lay awake long after she was asleep. But all he could do was pray that God would make him a good husband, someone completely different from his own father.

The next morning he knew it was the last day of their journey, but did Rapunzel know?

While they rode, Rapunzel read aloud from the letter to the Romans. Her voice was so sweet and lilting, his heart seemed near bursting inside him, and he broke out in a cold sweat; he was just as in love with her as Colin had been with Lady Margaretha.

What if he couldn't love her like he should, the way Colin would love Margaretha, with integrity and gentleness and patience and sacrifice? What if he hurt Rapunzel? What if he yelled at her and made her cry and disappointed her?

If Valten knew what Gerek was thinking, he would probably tell him he was being a coward and ask him where his courage
was. Lady Rose would assure him of what a good man he was and what a good husband he would be. Besides, Rapunzel needed him. He could take care of her and protect her from harm. Who else did she have? She had no one, not a single family member to take care of her.

When they halted to let Donner have a rest and eat a midday meal, Gerek noticed for the hundredth time that day how beautiful Rapunzel looked. She sat gazing up at him. He reached out and lifted a lock of her golden hair, which lay next to him, and let the hair sift through his fingers.

“I'm glad you're not afraid anymore to let your hair down.”

Her smile faded. “I am too. And I don't want to wait anymore to tell you what I have to tell you.” She looked so serious, her eyes big as she glanced away from him, fidgeting with her hands.

“I am listening.” They were sitting in a grassy spot next to a small, clear stream. The sun was lighting her hair, like a halo around her head. When she met his eye, she opened her mouth, then hesitated.

Finally, she said, “I asked you if you remembered when Elsebeth fell and cut her hand.”

He nodded. The back of his neck started to prickle.

“And I told you that Gothel was not my birth mother. She told me that I was left with her. Once she said at the front door and another time in the garden. But when I was folding linens one day with Frau Adelheit, she saw the scar on my hand. She told me . . .” Rapunzel bit her lip. She had been staring down at the ground, and now she lifted her eyes to his as she lifted her hand, palm up.

“What is it?”

“Look at my hand.”

On her hand was the same scar that Elsebeth had on her little three-year-old hand.

“But how?” Gerek took her hand in his and stared down at it. “Do you remember this?”

“I have a vague memory of falling and someone picking me up, and of someone sewing up my hand. I also have a memory of falling into some water and going under. These are my earliest memories.”

“So . . . Elsebeth didn't drown?”
Could it be?
A tremor streaked through his stomach.

“They never found her body, because Gothel stole me.” Her lip and chin trembled. “She confessed it all. She pulled me into the river and then took me out downstream.”

“Dear Lord God.” Gerek crossed himself. “She is truly evil. What will Lady Rose say? She'll be . . . She will be overjoyed. To get her daughter back.” But if Rapunzel was Duke Wilhelm's daughter . . . He would never be allowed to marry a duke's daughter. He was only a knight, the second son of an earl, with no inheritance and nothing to offer.

His heart sank all the way to his toes. He stared back at her.

Her cheeks lost their pink color. “What is it? What?”

“Rapunzel, I-I wanted . . .” No, he shouldn't tell her.

“What? You wanted what?”

“Nothing.”

“You said you had something to tell me, that you had changed.”

“I wanted to tell you . . .” His throat was as dry as a shock of hay. “I changed my mind. I don't want to marry Lady Lankouwen anymore.”

She seemed to be waiting for what he would say next.

He shrugged. “That is all.”

She looked askance. “There is something you aren't telling me.”

“I-I was . . .” But she would never believe him now. She would think,
Of course he wants to marry me. I'm the duke's daughter. But he never would have married me when I was a peasant.
Why should she believe that he had decided days ago that he would ask her to marry him?

He suddenly realized he was still holding her hand, the one with
the scar. If only she was not Elsebeth. If only she had not told him. If only she did not have that scar. But his fate was sealed.

And now he could not marry Lady Lankouwen or Rainhilda or this beautiful maiden in front of him. Because he was in love . . . desperately, hopelessly, painfully in love . . . with the duke's daughter.

Rapunzel couldn't understand Sir Gerek's reaction, and yet she had been afraid to tell him all along. He should have been pleased. He should have wanted to marry her, knowing she was Duke Wilhelm's daughter. What had happened? He said he didn't want to marry the wealthy widow. Why did he look so stricken by the fact that she was Duke Wilhelm's daughter?

“Are you upset with me?”

“No, of course not. Let us be off. Donner should be rested by now.”

Her heart twisted. Perhaps she was imagining that he was upset. Perhaps he was only surprised. Why was he not pleased?

They mounted up and rode down the road toward Hagenheim. Sir Gerek kept both hands on the reins and seemed to try not to let his arms brush against hers. She sat up straight, refusing to allow herself to touch him either.

Finally, her breaths coming faster, she said, “Are you not glad I discovered what happened to me, that I have a loving family after years of thinking that my parents didn't care about me? Are you not pleased that Lady Rose is about to find the daughter she thought was dead?”

“Yes, of course.” But there was a guarded look on his face.

“Then why do you behave as if you cannot be friends with me anymore? I will always be your friend. Why would I not be? Valten is your friend, and he's the duke's oldest son.”

“Of course we will always be friends. I know that. And I am very
pleased for you. You deserve wonderful parents like Lady Rose and Duke Wilhelm. I am only sorry . . .” She saw his throat bob as he swallowed. “. . . sorry that you did not experience their love all these years, that your rightful childhood was stolen from you. It is very cruel.”

That seemed more reasonable. But still, he seemed stiff and . . . strange. Tears stung her eyes. He did not want to marry her. Even though Duke Wilhelm could possibly give her a large dowry.

By the end of the day, a heavy boulder was sitting inside her chest. His formality, his awkwardness . . . What was wrong with him? He had been so warm, even loving, that morning when he had held her in his arms because of her bad dream. The night before he had dried her hair and held her against his chest because she was cold. Now he couldn't bear to touch her. Was he afraid of Duke Wilhelm? It didn't make sense, but how could she ask him?

She wanted to hit him. Perhaps she would.