The School for Good and Evil #2: A World without Princes Read Online Free PDF Page B

said the Elders “arranged” things . . . and hoped this time they’d have better results.
    Before sunset, the Elders allowed Stefan to come, who Sophie hadn’t seen since he locked her in. He didn’t look the same. His beard was overgrown, his clothes filthy, his body sallow and malnourished. Two of his teeth were missing, and his left eye socket was bruised blue. With his daughter protected by the Elders, the villagers had clearly expelled their frustrations on him.
    Sophie forced a sympathetic look, but her hearttwinged with glee. No matter how Good she tried to be, the witch inside still wanted her father to suffer. She looked over at Agatha, chewing on her nails in a corner, pretending not to listen.
    â€œElders said it won’t be long,” Stefan said. “Once those cowards in the forest realize you’ve been hidden, sooner or later they’ll come looking. And I’ll be ready.” He scratched at his blackened pores and noticed his daughter wincing. “I know I’m a sight.”
    â€œWhat you need is a good honeycream scrub,” Sophie said, digging through her bag of beauty products until she found its snakeskin pouch. But her father was just staring out at the demolished town, eyes wet.
    â€œFather?”
    â€œThe village wants to give you up. But the Elders will do anything to protect you—even with Christmas coming. They’re better men than any of us,” he said softly. “No one in town will sell to me now. How we’re going to survive . . .” He wiped his eyes.
    Sophie had never seen her father cry. “Well it’s not my fault,” she blurted.
    Stefan exhaled. “Sophie, all that matters is you get home safe.”
    Sophie fiddled with her pouch of honeycream. “Where are you staying?”
    â€œAnother reason I’m unpopular,” her father said, rubbing his black eye. “Whoever’s after you blasted the other houses in our lane, but left ours alone. Our food store’s allgone, but Honora still finds a way to feed us every night.”
    Sophie gripped the pouch tighter. “Us?”
    â€œBoys moved to your room until all’s safe and we can finish the wedding.”
    Sophie spurted him with white gobs. Stefan smelled it and instantly started scrounging through her bag—“Anything here the boys can eat?”
    Agatha could see Sophie about to faint and stepped in. “Stefan, do you know where the Elders will hide her?”
    He shook his head. “But they assure me the villagers won’t find her either,” he said, watching Sophie whisk her bag as far across the church from him as she could. Stefan waited until she was out of earshot. “It’s not just the assassins we have to keep her safe from,” he whispered.
    â€œBut she can’t last long alone,” Agatha pressed him.
    Stefan looked through the window at the woods shutting Gavaldon in, dark and endless in the fading light. “What happened when you were out there, Agatha? Who wants my daughter dead?”
    Agatha still had no answer. “Suppose the plan doesn’t work?” she asked.
    â€œWe have to trust the Elders,” Stefan said, averting his eyes. “They know what’s best.”
    Agatha saw pain cloud his face. “Stefan suffered worst of all.” That’s what her mother had said.
    â€œI’ll fix this somehow,” Agatha said, guilt squeezing her voice. “I’ll keep her safe. I promise.”
    Stefan leaned in and took her face into his hands. “And it’s a promise I need you to keep.”
    Agatha looked into his scared eyes.
    â€œOh good grief.”
    They turned to see Sophie at the altar, bag clenched to her chest.
    â€œI’ll be home by the weekend,” she frowned. “And my bed better have clean sheets.”
    As eight o’clock approached, Sophie sat on the altar table, surrounded by dripping candles, listening to