Page 63 of The Noble Servant

“Let’s get out of here,” Magdalen whispered.

Steffan crawled toward the light and to freedom. But as he freed himself from the bed, his back scraped against the bottom of the wooden bed frame. He stood and a metallicpingsounded behind him, something hitting the stone floor.

Steffan squatted and picked up a small key. He felt above it, along the underside of the bed, and felt something sticky. The key was also sticky. Lord Hazen had been hiding the key under the bed.

He hurried to the stacks of locked coffers on his uncle’s trunk.Magdalen had already found her father’s mining books in these coffers. What else might Hazen be hiding?

He moved the unlocked boxes out of the way, Magdalen helping him. He grabbed a locked coffer and inserted the key. It didn’t fit. He tried another box and another. He tried almost all of them.

“Make haste!” she whispered. “He could come back at any moment.”

Steffan wanted to tell her he was hurrying, but he didn’t take the time. He just kept trying the key in all the little wooden boxes. He had only two left. He tried the key in the first lock. It slipped in, but it wouldn’t turn. Then he tried it in the very last box. It slipped in. And turned. And opened.

He lifted the lid, and there was a piece of rolled-up parchment lying on the bottom. If it was locked with the key hidden, it must be important, so Steffan grabbed the parchment and stuffed it in his pocket. Then he closed the box and locked it.

Magdalen was already busy stacking the boxes back up exactly the way they had found them. Only it was impossible to know exactly how they had been arranged. There were so many of them. He hoped Lord Hazen had not memorized how they looked either.

When all the boxes were neatly stacked up again, he took Magdalen’s hand and ran for the door.

Voices could be heard somewhere ahead, probably on the staircase. He ran the other way, pulling Magdalen with him, toward the corridor that led to the east wing.

His heart was still beating hard, but it was also soaring high. He had not been able to locate his portrait, but he had found something that might be valuable. At least some of the pounding of his heart was from the hand holding on to his and the pretty, daring girl to whom it belonged.

They went up three short stone steps to the east wing. He kept an eye out for guards. Not seeing anyone or hearing a sound, he opened the first door he came to and pulled Magdalen inside with him, then closed the door behind them.

Chapter Twenty-One

Where are we?” she whispered.

“In my sister Gertrudt’s room. We’re safe for now.” Her hand was soft and warm inside his. They stood very close. Her bright eyes stared up at him. The two of them were like comrades on a crusade. He wanted to tell her he thought she was clever and brave, that he felt fortunate to know her.

Instead, he said, “Come, you can see a beautiful view from here.” He let her hand go and walked to the other side of the room, to the window that faced the sea. He unfastened the shutters and let in the late-day sunshine.

Magdalen drew closer, her mouth forming a circle. They stared out at the dark-blue sea meeting the pale-blue sky. “It is very beautiful.” She drew even closer, her nose touching the glass that had been installed only a few years earlier, and looked straight down. “Even the trees are beautiful. Green, then blue, then more blue.”

His heart tightened as he stared at her lovely profile, but he was not a silly boy mesmerized by a girl’s comely face. He should be thinking how to help his people, how to help the servants whom his uncle had cast out.

“What are you thinking about?” She did not take her eyes off the view out the window.

He sighed. “I was thinking how, because of my uncle, I killed two men.”

Compassion suffused her expression as she turned her gaze on him.

“That was not your fault,” she said softly. “You had no choice.”

“Perhaps. But as long as my uncle is free to send men to murder me ...”

She turned her whole body toward him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “We shall pray he is captured before anyone else is hurt.”

Just as he was allowing himself to enjoy her touch, she took her hand away.

“When I was the Duke of Wolfberg, I had so much power, but I did not appreciate the power I had to do good. And then I let my uncle come in and take over while I went to Prague. But when I have my place back, I’ll not waste my power again.”

“I believe you.”

She had such a sweet smile, and it reminded him of the time they’d spent together in Thornbeck talking and dancing. He’d thought her a pleasant dance partner and enjoyed talking to her, but he’d been very aware that she was only a baron’s daughter.

Her eyes widening, she reached out and tapped him on the arm. “We should be looking at what you found in the box.”