“What’s going on?” Brahm asks, slicing the thick silence and glancing at Thora.
Albert shakes his head. “I was just leaving this cunt and her dumb sister.”
Heat boils in my chest and travels to my head with a searing pain. I lunge as Albert turns away, but Brahm beats me to it. His fist flies through the air.
“Brahm, no!” I shout.
Too late.
Brahm’s fist meets Albert’s thin face with a loud crack and sends the lord crashing into a stagnant puddle. Albert looks more like a street rat than a lord with his hair in disarray, and mud splashed on his white blouse. He scrambles from the alley, spitting blood.
“You two will pay!” he shouts and walks toward the square.
I hang my head and rub my sore temples. Anger always brings on terrible, foggy headaches.
“Are you alright?” Brahm asks, touching my arm. “Oh, Thora!”
We both wrap our arms around my sister, who’s trembling with her eyes squeezed shut.
“No, I’m not alright,” I snap. “I think you just lost me my job.”
“You still want to work for him? What was he doing?” Brahm gestures to my skirt as he rubs his knuckles. “What were you doing?”
The tone of his voice causes acidic heat to rise in my sternum. Does he think I propositioned Albert? In front of my sister? I stare Brahm dead in his eyes as I draw up my skirt and hike my boot onto the wagon.
“Good Goddess Bergot and everything Holy,” Brahm says in a throaty voice as his eyes migrate up my long, pale leg.
I adjust the leather strap around my thigh and unsheathe the dagger to show him. “See? I didn’t need your help. I had everything handled.”
Brahm stares cross-eyed at my weapon. “Well, I think you’d be on your way to jail right now if you had handled it. Forget losing your job!”
I return the dagger to its place and rub my sister’s back. Thora catches her breath with little hiccup-like gasps.
“It’s alright, sweetie.” I adjust her crown and stroke her flaxen hair. “The bad man’s gone. GiGi’s alright. I got you.”
She hugs my arm. “Home?”
I take a deep breath and reach for the wagon handle, but Brahm grabs it first and drags it for me. I don’t refuse his help. I’m thankful for his fish more than ever, as today will mark the first time in three years I haven’t worked at Schulze Manor. I’ll have to find another way to afford food. I swear to Bergot, I’d rather sell my body to drunks in the shady part of town than marry Albert.
“Uh, Gisela.” The back of Brahm’s hand brushes mine. “Are you going to tell me what was going on? Or thank me for saving you from becoming a murderer?”
“Thanks, but I wasn’t going to murder Albert—just maybe slice off his wandering hands.” I shake my head and sigh. “Albert’s been asking me to marry him nearly every day for the past month or so. He’s become quite aggressive. Hence, the dagger. I found it in Wil’s room.”
“Oh.” Brahm’s shoulders drop. “I wish you would’ve told me before things with Albert got this bad. I’ll walk you and Thora home every day from now on. Just because he’s a lord doesn’t mean he can treat you like that.” He pauses and looks at me with a gleam in his eyes. “Lucky for me, I now have an advantage. When I ask you to be my wife, I’ll know not to corner you in a dark alley.”
I giggle at his joke. At least I think it’s a joke.
I remain silent as we trudge past the small buildings of Norstadt and toward the rural part of town. Through the muddy fields, we spot my home, which sits near the forest. The clouds thicken over the mountains and threaten to ruin the sunny day. I join Thora in singing Rain, Rain, Go Away until we arrive at the back door of our tiny, thatched house. Our goats prance and cry happy bleats at our arrival.
Thora hops from the wagon, leaving the fish behind. “Mama! A crown!” she shouts as she runs inside the back door.
I blow a strand of red hair from my face and turn to Brahm. I’ve never noticed before, but his eyes aren’t quite brown. They’re more the color of warm amber. Those kind eyes study me a moment longer before Brahm lowers the wagon handle and fidgets with his sleeves.
I touch his arm. “Thanks again. For your help and the fish. Uh, I suppose I should invite you for supper tonight.”
“Oh, Gisela. Stop being so forward; let’s take it slow.” He chuckles. “I would love nothing more than to have dinner with you, but some of us still have jobs.”
My jaw drops in shock, and I bump his shoulder with my fist.
Brahm rubs his arm and laughs. “Too soon? Well, I’m starting a new business venture—music lessons for children. I hope to save enough money to build a house for you, me, our many children, and, of course, Thora.”
I raise my eyebrow. “Many children?”
“Oh, yes.” He bites his lip and grins. “We’ll originally only want two, but you, my dear, won’t be able to keep your hands off me. I, of course, will be a much obliging husband.”
My cheeks burn, and I lower my eyes away from his smile. I can’t do this with him again. “You’re funny, Brahm. I’ll give you that. No wonder you and Wil were best friends.”
He frowns a little but perks up. “So, Freckles, will I see you tonight for the bonfires? Hexennacht comes but once a year.”
“No.” The word Hexennacht alone makes my chest tighten. I cock my head and cross my arms. “I read to Thora at night, and she doesn’t sleep well unless I tuck her in.”
“I know.” Brahm shrugs and wraps his strong arms around me. “Well, I’ll get drunk on bitter wine and think of you. See you tomorrow in the square before the May Day Sanctuary?”
With the heartache I’ve suffered, I consider pushing Brahm away but nod into the warm crook of his neck instead. He smells of oakmoss, lake water, and sweat. Brahm combs his fingers through my hair once, causing goosebumps to spread over my skin and forcing my spine to straighten.
He lets go and hands me the fish from the wagon. “I really should say hello to Anja.”
I lead Brahm inside, where Mama’s already chopping something on the countertop. I swear the woman doesn’t leave the kitchen, never mind the house. She’s a short woman whose shoulders hunch with the burden of sadness. She looks more like Thora, with blonde hair and chocolate-brown eyes. I take after Papa.
Mama hands Thora the wooden knife Papa whittled for her, so she can practice cutting and chopping. I drop the fish on the countertop, and the thud prompts Mama to spin around.
“Good morning, Gisel—oh, Brahm Wolf! Is that you?”
“Mama Sauer!” Brahm towers over my mother as he wraps his arms around her. “I’ve missed you and brought you a fish.”
“Oh, thank you! Let me look at you.” Mama grabs his arms and stands back. “Handsome and strong—look at that smile! How are you not yet married? Twenty-one, same as Wilhelm would’ve been. You should have a wife and child by now.”
“I’m waiting for your fair and redheaded daughter, of course,” he says, grinning at me.
My heart somersaults in my chest. I turn to help Thora chop carrots to hide my cheeks, splotched with heat. I wish Brahm wouldn’t say these things.