by Marian Tee
Come to the ball, ukhayyah. I will be waiting to make you my bride.
I cried out to the driver, “Please stop!”
The driver and his companion exchanged glances.
“Please take me back! Or drive me straight to the ball!”
“A moment, milady,” the other man said gruffly.
I watched him make a call, and straining my ears, I managed to hear the voice on the other end of the line. It was Lady Dezza, and as the man told her about my request, her answer was explicitly clear.
“No matter what happens, don’t let her come to the ball.”
I didn’t bother listening to the rest of what she had to say. Seeing the doors still unlocked and knowing I only had one chance to escape, I took the opportunity. Even with the car cruising down at full speed, I opened the door and jumped out.
The Chase
It was almost like a scene straight out from an action movie, only this time it was happening to her – in real life.
The men whom Lady Dezza had sent to drive her away from the palace now appeared equally intent to drive the life out of her body. They were shooting at her, and she wouldn’t have had any chance dodging their bullets if not for other men suddenly appearing and exchanging fire with them.
“Run, milady!” It was Jack, the soldier frequently stationed outside the prince’s suite, and she realized with a start that it was the prince’s men who had come to her rescue. Without hesitation, she picked up her skirts and broke into a run, glass slippers clutched tightly to her chest.
Her heartbeat raced as fast as her feet could carry her, and soon Ella found herself running straight into the woods. She knew a shortcut there, one that would lead her straight to the north wing, where the ball was taking place. Not even pausing for breath, she plodded on, ducking under thorny branches and skipping over roots that sought to trip her.
Somewhere along the way, she had kicked off her heels to run faster, and her feet started to bleed. But she didn’t stop, knowing that with the sounds of gunfire close behind, there was always a chance that Lady Dezza’s men would catch up with her.
She had almost reached then end of the woods when she heard the barks.
Oh God, they had set the dogs after her!
There was no way to lose those dogs, not when they could use her scent as their trail. She wanted to sob in terror, but she continued to run. The barking became louder, the gunfire closer, and she knew it was only a matter of time---
And then she heard something else, the thunderous, galloping sounds of hooves stomping on the ground---
She looked up just in time to see Prince Michael tearing towards her way, riding a white steed like the proverbial knight in shining armor. “Come with me, milady!”
She hesitated, not knowing whether he was someone she could trust.
“You have nothing to worry about. Khal has sent me to help his ukhayyah become his bride.”
Oh.
Those words – he could only have known about them if the prince himself had told him.
Again, Prince Michael offered her his hand and this time, she took it. In one swift movement, he had swung her up on his horse and placed her in front of him. Yanking the reins, he nudged the horse’s flank and his steed began thudding back towards the palace.
“Why are you on a horse?” She really had to ask that.
The prince grimaced. “When I received your prince’s call, I was at the stables. The tone of his message was rather urgent so I thought there was little time to lose.” By the time he finished explaining, they had reached the palace, and Prince Michael helped her down.
Entering the palace, they ran up the grand staircase leading to the ballroom’s main doors. But just as they reached the landing, three soldiers suddenly blocked their way.
A grim look crossed Prince Michael’s face. “You dare stand in my way?”
“We have our orders, sir,” the one in the middle said. Nodding at her, he added stiffly, “We shall not harm you if you do not insist on taking the lady with you inside.”
“I see.” The next thing she knew, the prince had already thrown the first punch, a hard, accurate uppercut that easily knocked the middle one out cold.
“RUN, milady! I will take care of this.”
She hesitated for a second but the prince was already exchanging punches with one of the soldiers. When the other one headed towards her, Prince Michael kicked him from behind, shouting at Ella, “Run, dammit!”
This time, she didn’t hesitate.
She ran towards the doors and threw them open.
Everyone inside the ballroom turned towards her, the loud gasps of shock at the sight of her appearance causing the live orchestra at the balcony to cease playing as well. There were so many women, and they were all looking at her, their expressions ranging from bewilderment to contempt.
From the other end of the room, she heard the king bellow, “Who dares interrupt the prince as he makes his choice of bride?”
Oh!
She cried out, “Wait!”
Moments later, and the crowd parted, and she saw the queen rushing towards her, having recognized her voice.
“Oh, dear God, Ella!” The queen looked close to fainting. “What happened to you?”
“I’m all right, Mom.” She squeezed Ruth’s hand in assurance, but her gaze remained behind the queen. The king was watching her with hooded eyes so like his son it made her swallow. She knew then Henri had more than an inkling of what she was about to say – and he was giving her the chance to say it.
“Your Majesty.” Her voice shook. “Before the prince makes his choice, I’d like the chance to present myself as well.” Amidst the cries of consternation and protest erupting from the crowd, she said clearly, “I would like to be considered as a possible bride for the prince as well.”
The Truth
“Arrest that woman!” Panic had Dezza shouting the words as she barged down from the platform and went to where the queen and her whore of a stepsister stood. Her gaze roamed the crowd wildly in search for soldiers to command. “Have you not heard me?” She pointed towards the doors, and the crowd reacted in the way she predicted, gasping in shock when they saw the bloody heap of unconscious soldiers under Prince Michael’s feet.
“She’s come to cause trouble,” Dezza said shrilly. “We must not---”
“SILENCE.”
The command came from the prince, and the power and authority in the single word he uttered was such that Dezza and the entire crowd was cowed by it, no one even thinking to defy his order.
Ella watched with dazed eyes as the prince came to stand right in front of her. Again, every inch of him was perfection, which made her all the more acutely conscious of how much the opposite she looked next to him. Her gown was torn in different parts, she probably had dirt and grime all over her face and body, and worst, she was barefoot, with her soles probably staining the carpet with her blood right this very moment.
The prince motioned for a soldier to come forward, murmuring a low command. In seconds, the soldier came back, bearing a chair, followed by another, who had a First Aid kit in his hand.
“Sit down, milady.” Albeit gentle, the prince’s voice was not at all intimate, making her nervous and wondering if the prince had already changed his mind or she had read everything wrong.
When she was seated, the prince bent down on one knee. The soldier with the First Aid kit stepped forward, the case already open. Her lips parted in shock when the prince himself started to clean the wounds to her feet, and around her, the entire crowd reacted similarly.
“Your Highness, no---”
“Hush.” The prince didn’t even look up, his attention concentrated fully on tending to her injuries. Only after he had cleansed her wounds and bandaged her feet did he look up.
Oh.
Love. That was love blazing in his blue eyes, was it not?
The prince said quietly, “State what you have come here for, Lady Ella.”
She didn’t even think of refusing. How could she when he was looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world for him?
Her voice ringing with sincerity, she said, “I came here to ask if you would take me as your bride, Your Highness. I know it may not seem proper because I am your stepsister, but I swear with all my heart, if you do choose me, I will work hard to become a most suitable bride…” A smile wobbled on her lips. “I have nothing to offer, Your Highness. Just myself and my love.”
Before the prince could answer, someone from the crowd of guests shouted, “INCEST!” It was a nobleman from another kingdom, and he had his sister with him. Like all men in the ball, he had hoped that his kin would be the prince’s bride. He started to say more, but the words died in his throat when the prince’s head snapped towards him.
The prince said silkily, “We are not related by blood, milord.” Danger laced his words as he continued, “If I were you, I would be very careful with your next words lest you do want me to challenge you in a duel.”
Courage fleeing at the prince’s threat, the nobleman said stiffly, “I apologize, Your Highness.” But the loss of his pride so stung that he added sulkily, “However, I only speak out of concern. The kingdom of Kivr has been rife with scandal and it all concerns her.” He nodded jerkily towards the prince’s stepsister. “How can she be worthy of you, Your Highness? How can she be worthy to become your kingdom’s future queen?”
A good question, the prince considered idly, and one he had been hoping would be asked. For that alone, the prince decided generously he would forego having the nobleman whipped after the ball.
With the question hanging in the air, restless resentment ran through the crowd. Their reaction made Ella want to shrink and disappear, and she began to wonder if she really deserved the prince. He was still kneeling in front of her, and she so wanted to touch his hand and tell him…
It was okay to let her go.
Loving him so much, she found herself doing exactly that, not wanting the prince’s reputation to suffer because of all her silly, youthful mistakes.
The prince listened calmly to her words, which she had spoken in a tone so low only he could have heard it. But when she was done, he only held on to her hand tightly and said in a pleasant voice, “I will never let you go.”
Her eyes widened in shock, but before she could figure out what to think of the prince’s incredibly possessive claim, she heard someone else speaking. It was the prince’s right-hand man, Luke.
“If I may be permitted, Your Majesties, Your Highness, my lords and my ladies, I would like to have the opportunity to present compelling evidence that might shed light on Lady Ella’s character.”
The king nodded. “Proceed.”
A full-sized screen appeared on the wall behind the crowd, projected from the ballroom’s control center. Ella was rendered speechless with shock when she saw that the video being shown appeared to be CCTV footage taken from the palace. It was the day she and the entire family had shared a meal, and she had given herself away when Lady Dezza asked her if she wanted to be the prince’s bride.
The next clip was even more shocking, revealing Ella, her lady’s maid Jane, and Lady Dezza. She closed her eyes instinctively when it came to the part of her dress tearing apart, but there was no escaping it, not when she could hear the crowd reacting with outraged gasps.
Coming to his feet, the prince observed the crowd as they watched the last clip, which had only been taken this afternoon. When glares went his way after hearing him act so coldly to Lady Ella, the prince knew the tide had turned to their favor.
When the screen faded to black, Luke said, “Lastly, I have a witness to present.” He stepped back, and that was when Ella saw Lord Barton, Prince Michael’s aide.
The nobleman wasn’t quite able to meet anyone’s eyes as he said in a stilted fashion, “I worked formerly as an envoy for His Highness, Prince Michael of Layla.” Taking his hand out of his pocket, he showed the crowd several letters, all bearing the prince’s seal.
But that wasn’t the only thing Ella noticed. This close to the former aide, she also noticed the man lacked one finger, an injury he hadn’t had the last time they had met.
She glanced at the prince, and seeing the question in her eyes, the prince said under his breath, “People who dare hurt the woman I love must be made to learn their lesson.” His voice was pleasant still, but coolly so, as if he wanted her to know that on this matter, he would not budge.
In front of her, Lord Barton was still confessing his wrongdoings.
“All these are the letters I stole. I had hoped to blackmail the prince with it, knowing they would cause a scandal.”
White-faced the moment Lord Barton appeared, Dezza was no longer able to bear being silent. “Why are we only questioning him?” she demanded shrilly. She had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before everyone started pointing fingers at her, and she was not going down without a fight. She pointed at Prince Michael, who had come into the ballroom to stand next to her half-brother. “Why do we not question him? That man dares to enter our kingdom, committing violence against our soldiers---”
“And I would do it again in a heartbeat if it means protecting a woman from harm,” the prince of Layla answered her coldly. “You had your soldiers after Lady Ella---”
“Lies!”
“And I have the means to prove it. They are waiting outside the palace as we speak. If you insist on denying the truth, I can have them presented here.”
Knowing there was no way out of that one, Dezza desperately changed tacks. “You would say anything just to protect her. After all, she’s the one you’ve been writing sappy love letters to---”
“Those were sappy love letters,” Prince Michael acknowledged, “but they were not from me.”
Ella tried to control her shock at the prince’s words.
Prince Michael slanted a look towards her stepbrother. “I was but the lowly bridge between the prince and Lady Ella.”
Again, the shock from the crowd was palpable, with an old duchess even demanding to be given some air because she was close to swooning at all the juicily scandalous revelations being bandied about.
Amidst the chaos, Ella’s stepbrother prince said simply, “Prince Michael speaks the truth.”
This time, even Dezza was stunned speechless.
“His Highness, Prince Michael, is a close friend of mine and my stepsister. As a favor to us, he had agreed to be our bridge and do what he can to keep our romance a secret.” His voice became grim. “However, we must now speak the truth. Too many lies had been spoken, and all of them had only succeeded at hurting the only innocent one involved---”
Dezza charged violently, “You lie! Prince Michael wrote the letters himself---”
The prince only raised a brow. “And you would know this how, milady?” His voice turned mocking as he asked, “Perhaps you have read the letters we’ve exchanged? Perhaps you were even the person who had paid Lord Barton to steal the letters?”
At the mention of Lord Barton’s name the second time, Dezza knew that her game was up. She knew her half-brother well enough to recognize his threats, and those last words were definitely one. If she uttered another word against the American nobody, she knew the prince would reveal all her crimes in its entirety. But if she played nice, she just might escape being exiled from the kingdom.
Self-preservation had Dezza forcing herself to bow deeply, a symbol of abject apology in their kingdom. “My greatest apologies, my brother. Everything I did was only to make sure you have an ideal bride.”
“I understand.” As she straightened, the prince continued, “However, it is not me whom you should ask forgiveness from.”
Dezza’s teeth gnashed at the answer, but she knew she had no choice. Facing Ella, she bowed again and just about choked her next words out. “My humblest apologies, my dear sister, Lady Ella. It would be my greatest honor if you were to be my…future queen.”
“You are
forgiven.” Ella didn’t even think twice about her answer. Lady Dezza was an evil bitch, but she hadn’t forgotten that the woman had a young son, and the child did not deserve to grow up parentless and suffer because of his mother’s mistakes.
When Lady Dezza walked away, escorted by the prince’s men, she turned towards the prince and gasped again.
The prince was down on bended knee, and his handsome face was grave as he said, “Milady, it is my turn to beg for your forgiveness.” His tone was humbler than anything the crowd – the entire world – had heard from the prince. “All my life, I had devoted to doing the right thing and perform my duty to the crown. I fell in love the first time I saw you, but I chose to be cruel and aloof, in hopes of driving you away. And yet, despite everything, you never gave up. While I tried to hide my feelings, you had the courage and strength to wear your heart on your sleeve.”
Tears were again running down Ella’s cheeks when the prince paused, and judging by the sniffs from the crowd, she was not the only one who was crying. She saw the queen, her mother, dabbing her eyes, and even the king’s own eyes appeared moist.
“Milady?”
She turned towards the prince.
“I am done running. If you will have me, I shall be yours to command forever. I, your stepbrother, your prince, shall be greatly honored if you were to accept me as your husband.” The prince took out a ring from his pocket and offered it to her.
She said simply, “Yes.” And then she started crying again as she watched the prince slide the ring on her finger.
Rising to his feet, the prince cupped her face. “My bride.” His mouth covered hers, her stepbrother prince kissing her in full view of everyone.
In time, theirs would come down in the kingdom’s history as the most scandalous royal wedding, for whoever heard of stepsiblings marrying each other? However, it would also be known as the most romantic, and that, for the prince and his stepsister, was the most important.