said the Elders âarrangedâ things . . . and hoped this time theyâd have better results.
Before sunset, the Elders allowed Stefan to come, who Sophie hadnât seen since he locked her in. He didnât 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.
âElders said it wonât be long,â Stefan said. âOnce those cowards in the forest realize youâve been hidden, sooner or later theyâll come looking. And Iâll be ready.â He scratched at his blackened pores and noticed his daughter wincing. âI know Iâm a sight.â
âWhat you need is a good honeycream scrub,â 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.
âFather?â
âThe village wants to give you up. But the Elders will do anything to protect youâeven with Christmas coming. Theyâre better men than any of us,â he said softly. âNo one in town will sell to me now. How weâre going to survive . . .â He wiped his eyes.
Sophie had never seen her father cry. âWell itâs not my fault,â she blurted.
Stefan exhaled. âSophie, all that matters is you get home safe.â
Sophie fiddled with her pouch of honeycream. âWhere are you staying?â
âAnother reason Iâm unpopular,â her father said, rubbing his black eye. âWhoeverâs after you blasted the other houses in our lane, but left ours alone. Our food storeâs allgone, but Honora still finds a way to feed us every night.â
Sophie gripped the pouch tighter. âUs?â
âBoys moved to your room until allâs safe and we can finish the wedding.â
Sophie spurted him with white gobs. Stefan smelled it and instantly started scrounging through her bagââAnything here the boys can eat?â
Agatha could see Sophie about to faint and stepped in. âStefan, do you know where the Elders will hide her?â
He shook his head. âBut they assure me the villagers wonât find her either,â 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. âItâs not just the assassins we have to keep her safe from,â he whispered.
âBut she canât last long alone,â Agatha pressed him.
Stefan looked through the window at the woods shutting Gavaldon in, dark and endless in the fading light. âWhat happened when you were out there, Agatha? Who wants my daughter dead?â
Agatha still had no answer. âSuppose the plan doesnât work?â she asked.
âWe have to trust the Elders,â Stefan said, averting his eyes. âThey know whatâs best.â
Agatha saw pain cloud his face. âStefan suffered worst of all.â Thatâs what her mother had said.
âIâll fix this somehow,â Agatha said, guilt squeezing her voice. âIâll keep her safe. I promise.â
Stefan leaned in and took her face into his hands. âAnd itâs a promise I need you to keep.â
Agatha looked into his scared eyes.
âOh good grief.â
They turned to see Sophie at the altar, bag clenched to her chest.
âIâll be home by the weekend,â she frowned. âAnd my bed better have clean sheets.â
As eight oâclock approached, Sophie sat on the altar table, surrounded by dripping candles, listening to