Chapter 31
Katharina stood atop the gallery encompassing the entrance hall, looking out of the huge windows. Her optimism had quickly worn off, and she felt more concerned with every passing minute.
What was Prince Arnold planning? It was worrying that he had not deigned to inform her of any details, for a multitude of reasons. It meant that she could not help prepare the setting, that she could not help iron out potential flaws in the plan, that everything hinged solely on what she surmised to be an insufficient understanding of Western politics. But most importantly, it meant that he did not trust her yet.
That was entirely unsurprising given the very short time they had been aligned. In fact, it would be a major problem if he did fully trust her already – it would have meant that others could easily find their way into his good graces as well.
So why did it sting so much?
A quick glance across the room towards the opposite end of the gallery confirmed that Lord Leonhardt was still restlessly staring outside as well. The news of Prince Arnold’s impending visit had caused him to immediately jump out of bed much to the dismay of the physicians. Now, he was dressed in a formal cavalry uniform that hid the layered bandages underneath.
Judging from the fact that Prince Ludwig was nowhere to be seen, Katharina assumed that he had not been informed. Which, in turn, meant that today’s events might have caused a significant rift between the Sonnenfeld and Westmark heirs.
She could only hope that it would help whatever plan Arnold had come up with.
A crescendo of murmurs went through the dorm residents who were socializing down in the foyer, some of the pointing outside. Her head snapped back to the window, and not a second too early.
The flickering torches along the walkway revealed a group of eight tall men marching in formation towards Sonnenfeld Hall. The two men in front proudly bore ceremonial standards, the blood-red eagle of Hohenfels swaying in the evening breeze. Behind them strode the Margrave’s son and heir, his usually expressive face stony and focused, his hands clasped behind his back. Then followed Friedrich, and after him four more armed men. They all matched Arnold’s pace step for step. She could hear the synchronized sound of their heavy boots on the pavement even over the nervous clamor in the foyer.