“As if you never figured out that Lord Manning was your father,” Lady Manning said with a sneer. “You don’t fool me with your pretend innocence. But you are not worthy of being nobility.”
Sophia could barely breathe.
“And if you even think about running away again, maybe I’ll forget the law against killing nobility,” Lady Manning hissed. “So you remember that.”
She turned and stalked away, toward her carriage, and Sophia stared after her.
It couldn’t be true. Could it be?
Could she really be Lord Manning’s daughter?
Rosaleen had to have known. She’d been serving the Manning family for years before Sophia’s birth. Was that why she’d insisted on teaching Sophia how to read and how to talk properly, and told bedtime stories of selfless lords and ladies who always did the right thing?
Sophia stared at the knot tying her to the wagon.
Could she undo it? Whether on purpose or not, her wagon was parked a length away from the carriage and the fire, and she was more isolated than the previous night. It was a better chance than before to escape.
If she was indeed Lord Manning’s daughter…she had to get away. She couldn’t allow herself to disappear. She couldn’t allow Lady Manning to steal her rightful title.
But maybe it was a bluff, a farce, something only intended to intimidate her.
As darkness fell, she looked away from the fire the guards had built far enough away from the wagon that she wouldn’t feel even a hint of its warmth. Looking at it was only a reminder of how cold she was.
So she looked away and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness, letting a few tears fall. They ran down her cheeks, and she did her best to wipe them with her hands tied.
She couldn’t remember what had happened to Lord Manning, and suddenly she desperately wanted to know.
She could vaguely remember a painting of him that hung in the mansion’s gallery.
He did have dark hair like she did.
But dark hair was common enough. She couldn’t claim he was her father on such a trivial tie.
She had no actual proof of her parentage.
There was a fairly good chance Lady Manning was simply lying to her again to throw her into turmoil. She liked to cause chaos and emotional damage. This could be another example of it.
And yet, it would explain so much of why Sophia was hated above everyone else.
She heard Caspian’s voice whispering her name and smothered a laugh.
Wonderful. She was hallucinating now. That would make everything easier to deal with.
Of course, hallucinations might help keep her warmer. Could she hallucinate a fire, too?
“Sophia,” she heard again, and her traitorous heart leaped at the sound of his voice.
It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.
But then he was there, behind her, his arms around her, holding her tight, pulling her back against him as he buried his face in her neck and kissed her there. “I’m here,” he whispered.
She couldn’t see him, but she didn’t need to. She knew it was him with every fiber of her being.
“You found me.” Tears of relief ran down her face.
She started shaking and couldn’t stop it.
“Of course I did,” he said, rubbing her arm. “You didn’t think I spent two years training to be a guard for no reason, did you? Rescuing beautiful maidens is practically in the job description.”
