Just Ella

by Annette K. Larsen

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One - The Gardener

  Chapter Two - The Room

  Chapter Three - The Door

  Chapter Four - Discovery

  Chapter Five - Sixteen

  Chapter Six - Highest Bidder

  Chapter Seven - An Evening Out

  Chapter Eight - Engagement

  Chapter Nine - Another Dance

  Chapter Ten - Caught

  Chapter Eleven - A Mother's Remedy

  Chapter Twelve - Time

  Chapter Thirteen - Return

  Chapter Fourteen - Saying No

  Chapter Fifteen - Giving Orders

  Chapter Sixteen - Princess Ari

  Chapter Seventeen - Misunderstanding

  Chapter Eighteen - Looking for a Fight

  Chapter Nineteen - Letting Go

  Chapter Twenty - Captive

  Chapter Twenty-One - Delivered

  Chapter Twenty-Two - Sheep's Clothing

  Chapter Twenty-Three - Protector

  Chapter Twenty-Four - Reprimand

  Chapter Twenty-Five - Friend or Foe

  Chapter Twenty-Six - The Truth

  Chapter Twenty-Seven - The Bend in the Road

  Chapter Twenty-Eight - Understanding

  Chapter Twenty-Nine - Expectations

  Chapter Thirty - Finally

  About the Author

  A scene from Gavin's Point of View

  Chapter One of Lylin's Story

  Just Ella

  Annette K. Larsen

  Copyright © 2015 Hidden Falls Publishing and Annette K. Larsen

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art by Cherise Davies with Art By Cherise Larue.

  For All My Sisters

  Both actual and honorary

  And most especially for Jana

  Because you know I couldn’t have done it without you.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Gardener

  I’LL ADMIT THAT my decision was impetuous. Only the crates and barrels crammed into the wagon would hide me from view as it pulled away from the kitchens, but it was my best chance. The supply wagon had just been sitting there, and upon overhearing the men talking about their plans to visit the caravan of traders in the village, the possibility of a taste of freedom made me reckless.

  So here I sat, bumping along, hoping I could make it through the gates without being caught.

  I dared to peek around a barrel to check on my progress and saw that we were rounding the edge of the castle. We had only to make it through the gardens and we would be at the gate.

  Crouching down once more, I sent a plea to heaven that my ramshackle plan might succeed, but only a moment later, a guard called the wagon to a halt.

  Cursing my luck, I scooted back and ducked even lower, anticipating a good amount of disappointment and humiliation. I heard a ripping sound as I moved and knew that a hole had been torn in my dress. I ignored it and held my breath, hoping the wagon would be allowed to move on without an inspection.

  “Princess.”

  I scrunched my face in irritation and looked up at the guard gazing down at me. I stood, knowing my adventure was over. The guards surrounding the wagon were no surprise; however, the swords pointed threateningly at the drivers were.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  “Are you well, Princess?” asked one of the guards.

  “Of course I’m well.” I tripped over crates and scrambled out of the wagon bed, ignoring the hands that offered assistance. “And these men had no idea that I was in their wagon until you made them stop. Put your weapons down at once.”

  “You got in on your own?” The guard’s confusion was understandable, but I still found it irritating.

  “Yes, now let these men be on their way.”

  As they reluctantly lowered their swords, I noticed several servants watching the spectacle, and started to worry about the potential ramifications of my actions. I had only a moment to hope that my mother would not be told before I heard her voice ring out across the courtyard.

  “Ariella.”

  My stomach dropped and I looked up, then immediately back down as I encountered the eyes of the queen, so similar to mine, as she stood rigid on the palace steps.

  “Coming, mother.” Gathering my poise, I hurried past the baffled guards and confused servants, my head held high as I joined my mother.

  The fact that she had witnessed my failed adventure only added to my humiliation. I followed her into the castle and up the stairs to the sitting room attached to my parents’ chambers.

  The door shut with a snap. “Explain yourself.”

  I sighed, resigned to simply tell the truth. “The caravan of traders have come and I wanted to see them.”

  “So you decided to go in the back of a supply wagon?”

  “It’s not as though there’s any other way I would be able to go.”

  “There is nothing amid the trinkets of traders that would interest you, and travelers are notorious swindlers. But that is not really the point, is it? Why would it even enter your head to attempt to ride out of the palace in the back of a wagon? Why, Ella?”

  I didn’t know how to answer.

  “It’s dangerous. Do you not know that? Do you know what it looks like when you so openly defy me?”

  I kept silent.

  “Your defiance, your complete lack of decorum and your sneaking around the servants does not look right and it must stop.”

  I stared at the ground and clenched my teeth, trying to keep the hurt at bay. My mother was embarrassed by me. “I don’t sneak around them. I’m just interested in the things they do.”

  Her tone softened a fraction. “I know that you are curious; you always have been. But if you insist on indulging your curiosity, then you will not do so in public.” I could feel her gaze boring into the top of my head, but I refused to look up and it wasn’t long before I heard the retreat of her footsteps and the sound of the door as it snapped shut.

  I stared out the window onto a spectacular view of Dalthia. The palace lawn sloped down past the gardens to meet the wall surrounding the extensive grounds. Beyond that barrier, the common village sprawled out until it met the river, which wove through the dense trees like a silk ribbon through a braid. On the other side of the river were the houses belonging to the nobility, and far beyond what I could see, nestled between rolling hills, rested many outlying villages and estates.

  But I was too caught up in my own thoughts, my own hurt and disappointment, to appreciate any of it.

  “Fine,” I muttered defiantly. If my mother wanted me to hide where no one would see me, then I would go back to the maze.

  I hurried down the grand staircase and out the door without acknowledging the guards in my usual friendly manner.

  Making my way through the public portion of the gardens, I held my head high, knowing that several noblemen might be following my movements with their curious eyes. The palace served not only as my home, but as the central meeting place for all government. The landlords who oversaw the outlying villages had regular meetings with my father, as did the magistrates and peace officers. I expected the scrutiny of noblemen, but still hated it.

  A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I reached the hedge walls of the maze and entered. I inhaled the intoxicating fragrance, remembering the hours my sisters and I had spent running through this house of nature.

  The maze had been my playground as a child, but at twelve years old I was pronounced too old for such frivolity. So I had stayed away. Because I wanted to do as I was told—to be everything they expected me to be. But clearly, my ability to act properly had not been helped by avoiding the maze. So it was wi
th a fair amount of spite that I returned here now.

  Walking into the rooms of nature-grown walls, I saw a great deal of change since I used to play here—or perhaps I just saw it differently. Compared to the rest of the gardens, the maze was much less tidy. Some plants and bushes grew into the paths I followed; others had climbed the hedges and hung overhead, their blossoms dripping from the sky.

  The maze was arranged with narrow pathways mingling with wide open rooms. A few of the rooms were almost entirely enclosed, but most tended to run into each other in a rambling, nonsensical way.

  The scent of lilac and roses filled my lungs, easing the tension in my shoulders. I wished I could take down my light hair so the breeze could blow through it, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to tame it into submission myself. I loved my hair, but its thick, loose curls made it unruly.

  It was difficult to remember the layout of the maze, but I found a round room with every color of rose bush sweeping the perimeter, surrounding a large tree in the center. I remembered the tree and was happy to discover that my height, combined with the height of a bench now situated beneath it, would allow me to climb it.

  I chewed my bottom lip and cast my eyes around to see if I dared attempt such a thing now. I hiked my skirts and stepped onto the bench, then grabbed a limb and used the back of the bench to lift me higher before pulling myself into the branches of the tree. Fifteen years old. A princess. And still I did it.

  Fifteen years old, but in just a few weeks I would be sixteen, and I dreaded the day. Somehow I knew that Prince Jeshua would start to pursue me in earnest once I was all of sixteen. Avoiding him had become a talent of mine over the years and was one of the reasons I was so good at being places where I didn’t belong. He could have chosen any one of my sisters, but he had fixated on me. I pushed the unpleasant thought aside and climbed higher.

  Pleased with my own daring, I looked at the leaves surrounding me and realized I was largely obscured from the view of anyone not standing directly below the tree. I stepped carefully from branch to branch, hoping I might watch people unobserved from this height.

  Once I could see above the hedge, I found a gap in the leaves and gazed around, proud of my success as I watched a visiting nobleman and woman as they strolled arm in arm. I looked farther and caught sight of a gardener I’d never seen before. He was quite young, not much older than myself, and rather rough looking. He dressed in earth tones—a loose fitting shirt and brown breeches. He was tall and lean with dark, tousled hair. A satchel hung across his body, some sort of foliage sticking out of it. When my eyes returned to his face, I realized that he had stopped his work to watch me, his eyebrows raised.

  Then he smiled—not as though he were being polite or tactful, but just because he was amused. Because of me.

  My eyes widened and I crouched down. Apparently I wasn’t as well hidden as I had thought. What was I thinking? If my mother heard of my antics, she would put an immediate end to any and all excursions.

  I started to make my way down. If I could get out of this tree without anyone else seeing me, then perhaps I could find another tree in a more secluded corner of the maze, or one with thicker leaves.

  I was just about to step onto one of the lowest branches when the gardener appeared just a few paces from the tree.

  “Stay aloft a bit longer. There is someone coming.” He disappeared before his words had fully registered. When they did, I found myself hugging the large trunk and hoping that whoever ventured near would soon be gone.

  I heard their approach and tried to take even breaths. Through the gaps in the leaves, I caught glimpses of the couple as they strolled, unconcerned, along the path and out the other side.

  As their voices faded, I breathed easier until a noise startled me.

  The gardener had jumped onto the bench below. “All clear, Miss.” The lightness in his face and voice left me stunned until he reached a hand toward me. “Do you need a hand?”

  I lowered myself, hoping to look dignified—or at least as dignified as one can look when climbing a tree—but didn’t know how to get out of the tree once I ran out of branches.

  “Sit down here.” He slapped the lowest branch and I did as he bade, my legs dangling as I prepared to lower myself.

  “Hands on my shoulders now.”

  My eyes widened, but I did as he asked. He grabbed hold of my waist and lowered me to the bench. My hands dropped from his shoulders and I tried not to stare.

  “You’re all right then?” he asked.

  “I don’t usually climb trees.”

  He quirked a corner of his mouth. “That I had already guessed.” He jumped from the bench then handed me down. “I’ve not seen you wandering the maze before.”

  My mind was a jumble. I wasn’t used to people speaking so freely with me. My silence seemed to remind him of our difference in station and his face lost its laughter. He stepped back.

  “A good day to you, My Lady.”

  He turned but I stopped him. “I thank you,” I blurted. “For your—assistance.”

  He inclined his head, pinching the brim of his hat. “A pleasure.”

  “I’m Ella,” I said on impulse. It was an almost unconscious decision, introducing myself as Ella. Only my family knew me as Ella. Perhaps I would have felt too high and mighty introducing myself to this down-to-earth, rough character, as Ariella—Her Royal Highness, the princess—Ariella.

  Instead of lightly grasping the tips of my fingers and bowing low over my hand, as I was accustomed to, he took hold of my hand with both of his and gently inclined his head while smiling at me with his eyes. “Glad to meet you, Ella.” I gave a small, inaudible gasp. No one outside of my family addressed me without my title. No one. I wondered for a moment if he were being purposefully disrespectful, but he seemed entirely unaware of the gaffe. “My name is Gavin.”

  I gave a fleeting curtsy and replied, “A pleasure,” out of habit. I knew I must have had the appearance of a startled deer—eyes wide and wary, rooted to the spot.

  “What brings you to this portion of the gardens? I’m not used to seeing people strolling all by themselves.”

  “Oh, well,” I stumbled, knowing very well that he hadn’t seen me strolling at all.

  “Hiding away?” He seemed genuinely curious about this point.

  “I suppose.”

  “Hm.” He seemed a bit puzzled. “I have never seen a noble who wished to hide away.”

  “I’m not nobility.” It was an automatic response because it was the truth.

  “Oh, you’re not?” he seemed amused by this. “Then perhaps a lowly servant who has stolen her mistress’ clothing? Or maybe the daughter of a dressmaker, taking liberties with her parents’ goods?”

  That’s when I realized he hadn’t recognized me. He must have never had the opportunity of seeing me up close. I suddenly appreciated my impulsive decision to introduce myself as Ella. Perhaps if he could get to know me—even a little bit—before he found out who I was, then…I don’t know…we could be friends? Was that even possible?

  “So, you assume if I’m not nobility, I must be a thief?” I tried to sound affronted, but felt a bit giddy about the whole situation, and ended up sounding more amused than anything.

  His grin broadened. “And what would you have me believe, miss? I’m no expert on dresses, but I know it takes a lot of coin to look as good as you do right now.”

  My mouth dropped open a bit. “I believe that is the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever received, sir.”

  “Sir?” he let out a laugh. “The lady in the fine dress calls me ‘sir,’ and I’m to believe you are not noble?”

  “And what exactly do you have against nobility?”

  “Nothing, really. I’m simply used to working for what I want and need. Nobility already have that and so they seem a bit….” He trailed off.

  “What?” I asked in horror. If he had such a low opinion of nobility, I couldn’t imagine what he would think of me.

&nb
sp; “Well, lazy, if you must know.”

  I let out a breath of unbelief and searched my mind for an argument.

  “You know,” he continued, “for a person who claims not to be nobility, you’ve certainly got your feathers ruffled.”

  “You think that because I am given less responsibility than others that I have less value in society?”

  Compassion crossed his face, as though sorry to see my distress over the matter. “No. You are simply a different sort of society—one I don’t understand.”

  “But we are all part of the same society.”

  He laughed, but stopped himself quickly. “That, miss, is entirely untrue. I am surrounded by nobility constantly, but I do not interact with them. I’m completely separate—they don’t see me.” The fact that he did not recognize me made it difficult to argue the point.

  An inexplicable sadness settled over me. I was speaking with one of my subjects who believed he was unimportant and invisible. And I could do nothing about it.

  “That’s really what you believe?” I asked, hoping, perhaps, he was exaggerating or joking.

  He gave me a sad smile and shrugged. “I apologize if my bluntness offends you. I figured you would leave if you were upset by me.”

  “That would be very rude of me.”

  “It’s what I’d expect.”

  “Why? Because that’s what a noble would do?”

  “Well.” The confusion was back, forcing him to make a slight concession. “Any other noble.” It was somewhat gratifying that he no longer felt compelled to lump me with the nobles he despised. However, the fact remained—I wasn’t a noble. And I knew he would think even less of me when he knew what I was.

  I wouldn’t lie. “I told you, I’m not—”

  “Come now, Ella. Your tree climbing hasn’t got me fooled.” He used an almost paternal tone, his eyes laughing. “You are nobility, aren’t you?”

  I buried my hurt. “No, I’m something worse.”

  “Oh, come now, I don’t think that badly of people. The only thing that might be worse is royalty.” How charming he was, even when insulting me.

  I stood silent for a moment, wondering if he would catch on. When he continued to gaze at me, I simply said, “Exactly.”