Just Ella

by Annette K. Larsen

  I turned to look at him, his face inches from my own. “Thank you, Gavin. This was amazing.” It sounded trite, but I couldn’t think of any other way to express myself.

  He smiled, and my stomach flipped over as his eyes flitting to my mouth and back.“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Goodbye, Ella.”

  “Good night.”

  He closed the door, and I let a grin steal over my face before retrieving the clothing I had hidden in the room. I changed quickly, keeping my ears perked for any passersby. I heard nothing and encountered no one going back. The guard at the front entrance gave me an odd look before making his face blank once more, but I just hurried past and back to my room. I slipped into my nightdress and fell into bed with the beautiful sounds of common music playing in my head.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Engagement

  I WOKE THE next morning to find the sun higher than it usually was when I awoke. I smiled in spite of myself, recalling the glorious evening I had experienced. The dancing, the people, the music, and the joy—it was all so ridiculously lovely, I could hardly keep from laughing.

  Then I remembered. I remembered the reason I had insisted on escaping the palace in the first place and I pulled my covers up over my head.

  Jeshua. Slimy, slithering, repulsive Jeshua had asked my father for permission to marry me. And the worst part was that my father had actually agreed. That was it: the end of my life wrapped up in a neat, two-minute conversation that hadn’t included me. My stomach twisted. Everything inside me squirmed at the idea of being wed to a man I had avoided since the moment I met him. I couldn’t do it. And yet how could I not? A promise had been made; an agreement had been reached between one royal family and another. How could a contract like that be broken?

  I wanted to hide forever. Last night I had begged my way out of dinner, but it wouldn’t work twice. Today I would have to face Jeshua—at breakfast, at lunch and at dinner. I would have to be polite and pretend not to know.

  The door opened and closed quietly.

  “Your Highness?” It was Gretchen.

  “Yes?” I mumbled from beneath my blankets.

  Her footsteps came closer. “Are you alright, Highness?”

  I pulled the covers away from my face. “Yes, Gretchen, I’m fine. I was just… thinking.”

  “Indeed, Highness. About what?”

  I waved it off. “It’s not important.”

  “Whatever you say, Princess,” she replied with a mock curtsy and a coy smile.

  “I suppose it has to be ‘Princess’ now that we’re back in the castle,” I said in amusement. I threw back my covers and slid out of bed, slipping my feet into fur bed slippers and scurrying across the floor to my wardrobe.

  “So, which lovely dress will you wear today?” asked Gretchen. Her fascination with my gowns gave me an idea.

  “I don’t want to wear something lovely today.” The idea grew rapidly. “And I don’t want you to do anything fancy with my hair either.”

  “But Highness—“

  “I want to look as plain as possible, understand?”

  “But why?”

  “I can’t get out of this betrothal, especially since I’m not even supposed to know about it, but maybe I can make him change his mind.”

  Gretchen gave me a pitying smile. “I will make you as plain as possible, Princess, but I doubt it will make any difference.”

  I shrugged. “I at least have to try.”

  But trying didn’t do me any good. I only made it five paces outside my bedroom when my mother walked by and stopped me. “My darling, you must go change. We have guests for breakfast and I’m sure you want to look your best.”

  Annoyance crossed my face, but she ignored it. “Go on. And be quick about it.”

  I considered taking as much time as possible, but figured it probably wasn’t worth the upset it would cause. Besides, if I were to walk in late, it would draw more attention to me, and that was the last thing I wanted.

  Gretchen didn’t seem all that surprised when I returned with the news. I changed quickly, then Gretchen pulled a few of my curls free of the bun she had arranged so they framed my face. I stopped her before she could add her favorite pearl hairpins.

  When I left my room for the second time, I met Marilee.

  “Do you know who is still here?” Marilee asked, fairly bouncing out of her shoes.

  “Who?” I asked, knowing she would want to share the news instead of hearing that I already knew.

  “Jeshua! His parents have gone but he is staying an extra day.” She squeezed my arm in excitement. “What do you make of that?”

  I offered a strained smile. It was difficult not to smile when Marilee was like this. “I’m sure I have no idea.”

  During breakfast I said little, frowned constantly, clanked my utensils together in what I hoped was an annoying fashion, and purposefully spilled my drink in the direction of Jeshua’s plate. He either didn’t notice, didn’t care, or thought it was somehow endearing, because he gave me his most gracious and self-aggrandizing grin and patted my hand a time or two. By the end of breakfast I was so annoyed that I no longer had to act clumsy on purpose; it came along with my frustration.

  To my complete delight, Jeshua didn’t stay the entire day, but left immediately after breakfast along with several other guests. All of my sisters and I bade him goodbye at the doors of the great hall. And though he directed most of his attentions toward me, Jensa and Kalina gave him five times the farewell that I did. My farewell was restricted to formalities and politeness, while my sisters practically hung on him. When he finally extricated himself from their attentions and was able to leave, I was left amid my sisters’ sighs and giggles as they discussed his visit, their meaningless comments fluttering about.

  “Surely his visit was more than just a visit.”

  “Of course it was; he is of the marrying age, after all.”

  “So which of us do you suppose he’s chosen?”

  “Perhaps he hasn’t chosen at all.”

  “You think he came to browse?”

  “I think it’s entirely possible.”

  “I think he’s chosen Ella.” I continued to gaze out the door, refusing to acknowledge Marilee’s comment.

  “Why do you say that?” Lorraina’s voice made it clear that she thought Marilee dimwitted.

  “Have you seen how he looks at her?” Now it was Marilee’s turn to make it clear that she thought Lorraina was dimwitted.

  “That doesn’t mean he’s chosen,” Lorraina snapped. I wondered if she had secretly taken a liking to Jeshua. “In fact, I think Kalina is right. I don’t think he’s chosen at all.”

  No one responded. Lorraina had a way of taking the fun out of any conversation that wasn’t going her way.

  I felt someone at my arm and looked down to see eleven-year-old Lylin resting her head against my arm. “I don’t want anyone to get married,” she whispered. I squeezed her hand, but kept silent.

  “Mia.” My father’s voice broke the silence, ringing through the empty space of the entrance hall. “I’d like to speak with you.”

  At hearing my father’s request, Mia’s eyes became very wide and I knew she and all of my other sisters were thinking the same thing: Jeshua had chosen Mia.

  I wished they were right, but knew my sisters’ curiosity where Jeshua was concerned would not be satisfied for several years. I watched Mia fidget and had the impression that it was not excitement, but more apprehension that caused her to wring her hands.

  Sitting through my lessons was difficult, but I escaped to the maze as soon as possible. I passed Gavin, working on some shrubbery in the main garden and caught his eye, hoping he would be able to join me soon. It was cooler today than it had been lately, so I had my cloak on. But when I entered the garden room, I took it off and laid it on the ground so I could sit and draw. It wasn’t as chilly in the maze and I enjoyed the feel of the breeze on my skin.

  In a few minutes Gavin came through the hedges, d
usting dirt from his gloves and knees. “Will you teach me some dances?” I asked before he even looked up. He removed his gloves, glanced up and stared.

  “What?” I asked, wondering if there was something amiss.

  He shook his head slightly. “Uh, nothing. You just look...different than you did last night.”

  I rolled my eyes slightly, moved my skirts aside and got to my feet. “Mother wanted me to look especially well this morning because Jeshua stayed for breakfast. I had a difficult time not gagging on my food the entire meal.” I stepped toward him, not wanting to speak of Jeshua. “Now, will you teach me better how to dance? I was quite lost about half the time last night.”

  “You didn’t look in the least bit lost.”

  “So say you,” I teased, but I was serious as well; Gavin would never speak unkindly.

  “But not just me. So says Eli as well.”

  “Eli?” Gretchen’s brother? What did he have to do with anything?

  “Yes, he was quite taken with the mysterious stranger from who knows where. He was wondering how I know you.” He seemed to be watching my reaction closely, and a tingle ran across my skin.

  “Just tell him who I really am and he’ll go running for the hills. Now teach me how to dance.”

  He sighed. “You already dance very well.” But he came toward me nonetheless.

  As he began teaching me, he continued our conversation. “And what exactly makes you think Eli would go running for the hills if he knew who you were?”

  “What?” I asked, having already forgotten our conversation. My focus had shifted to our dancing, to the ease with which Gavin put his arms around me, to my own nervousness. Dancing with Gavin proved very distracting when there was no one else near to dilute my awareness of him.

  “You said Eli would go running for the hills if he knew who you were.”

  “Oh,” I responded. “Well, it’s true.” Gavin moved to spin me under his arm but I had lost my focus and my dress was not meant for dancing. I tripped over my own feet and ended up tangling myself in my skirts. I went down and in his attempts to catch me, Gavin fell with me. I landed on my backside and he landed on his knees. For a moment neither of us spoke, but then we saw each other’s faces and started laughing.

  He moved to sit down beside me. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” I sighed, embarrassed. My backside hurt a bit, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. Instead I reached down and untangled my foot from my petticoats. “I should have changed before I came out here.”

  “It is a bit dangerous, isn’t it?” he asked as he grabbed a handful of fabric at the bottom of my skirt and examined the layers. My eyebrows rose of their own accord but I kept my mouth shut and tried not to smile. Any noble or royal who might have seen such a display would have had him flogged. “Imagine if you had fallen into the pool.” He got to his feet and offered both his hands to me. I took them and allowed him to haul me to my feet.

  “Well, I feel graceful,” I said. He hadn’t released my hands and the thought distracted me.

  A smirk slipped across his mouth. “You are graceful, even when you fall.”

  He was making fun of me. “Oh, certainly.”

  “No, really. Everything you do is graceful, and I haven’t figured out how you do it.” He positioned me in a more formal stance and started moving through the steps of a different dance.

  I sighed. “I suppose those lessons were useful after all.”

  He stepped us into a fast twirl, propelled by each other’s weight. The feeling of these quick carefree movements was intoxicating. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of moving with Gavin. When I opened them, the world spun around me and Gavin had to pull me closer to keep me from falling—again. I was starting to feel clumsy. I found my face very close to his and forgot my clumsiness. His mouth had me distracted. “So much for grace,” I breathed before finally looking to his eyes.

  I found him staring at my own mouth and felt it go dry as his hand trailed down my back before pulling away. He finally met my eyes and lifted a corner of his mouth before twirling me outward and inclining his head, ending our dance.

  ***

  My father announced Mia’s engagement the next week. Not to Jeshua, as my sisters had suspected, and not even to a prince, but to a noble who had been quietly doting on her for years. That’s why my father’s introducing her to Prince Goran had been upsetting to her. She had fallen in love, which surprised me. I had always thought that Mia’s lack of prospects were due to her practical nature. She had never been one to romanticize situations and seemed content to wait for the appropriate man. We had all expected her to marry a prince who would be able to rule alongside her when the time came. My father had always made it clear that the crown would be passed to one of us as the next queen.

  So when we heard of her engagement, we were all anxious to know how the situation had come about. Lord Havington was twelve years her senior with a naturally reticent disposition and had been hesitant to pursue her when she came of age. So he had bided his time, slowly getting to know her. It was my father that finally prompted him to act.

  “After Lord Havington saw the way that Father was pushing me toward Prince Goran, he came up to me, looking very determined, and told me that I should not marry the Prince. When I asked him why, he said, ‘Because I would like you to marry me.’”

  We all smiled and I even heard Marilee sigh.

  “Of course, I have cared for him for quite some time, but he never gave any indication that he truly had an interest in me. It was such a relief to have him finally speak his feelings. We had talked much and even flirted a little, but I was worried about what people might think. He is much older.”

  “That hardly matters,” Jensa encouraged. “Especially now that you are a little older. I think it will be a great match for you.”

  “So when will the celebration be held?” Naturally, this question came from Marilee, always looking forward to the next social event.

  The seven of us were gathered in the study. We had come here for lessons, but our tutors had given up when they realized we would not allow our discussion to be interrupted by anything as menial as lessons.

  I joined in the conversation, truly happy for Mia. She had found someone she loved and it gave me hope for several reasons. First, at least my ideas of romance were not completely unattainable. Second, there seemed to be no disappointment over his not being royalty. And third, she had done it without the rest of us knowing. Perhaps I could keep my secrets as well. However the more I thought about it, the more unhappy I became. Despite the gift of love that Mia had been given, I remembered that such a chance could not be mine. My future had been determined already. As my melancholy settled over me, I quietly extricated myself from the room.

  Hurrying up the stairs, I pulled pins from the thick chignon holding my heavy hair captive before shutting myself in my chamber. I lay my forehead against the door and let out a sigh of relief. Crossing to the vanity, I dropped the pins on the tabletop and vigorously shook my hair out with both hands before throwing it all over my shoulder. The confines of fashion and etiquette dictated the way I had to wear my hair in public, but I preferred it this way; gold waves in wild disarray—it suited me. I finally looked in the mirror and gave a startled scream when I saw Gavin’s reflection staring back at me, frozen where he stood by the fireplace, holding a vase of flowers. I spun so quickly I nearly toppled over and had to brace myself. His eyes were wide and held no hint of amusement, only a sort of panic.

  “I—” The words escaped him. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I was told that one of the princesses wanted an arrangement of flowers, so I took the liberty of arranging one and when I brought it to the house mistress, she showed me to this room and told me that all the highnesses were doing their studies and I should just place them where I thought best, so I….” He trailed off, no doubt assuming I could finish the thought.

  My hair fell into my wide eyes and I pushed at the pale str
ands without thinking. “Oh…” was all I could manage to say.

  “I would have been gone before now, but I couldn’t decide where they looked best and I had no idea of anyone returning any time soon. I certainly didn’t know it had been you who requested them, though I suppose I should have guessed.” He stopped himself from rambling any more. We each continued to stare at the other and I imagined that the panic I saw in his eyes was most likely mirrored in my own. “I should go,” he declared in a would-be casual voice, and started walking to the door.

  “Gavin,” I managed to speak. He stopped and turned stiffly toward me, his eyes running over my hair and then away. “The vase,” I said, motioning toward the flower arrangement he still held in his hand. He looked down, realizing he still held it. “On that table would be fine.”

  He tripped a little as he moved back to the table and dropped the vase in its center. He didn’t quite meet my eyes and inclined his head vaguely before reaching the door.

  “Thank you,” I managed before it shut.

  I tried to still the mad pounding of my pulse, realizing that being indoors with Gavin was an entirely different experience than being outdoors with him. Here, in my chambers, there was no open air to diffuse his presence, no breeze to cool my blush. I turned to look in the mirror, wondering about the way Gavin’s eyes had seemed drawn to my hair, and how he had acted almost guilty about it. I felt more like myself with my hair down, and wondered for a moment if he saw me differently when I wasn’t conforming to the rules of society.

  I decided to make a little test out of my suspicions. The next time I went to a village dance—and I would go again—I would wear my hair down, with only a kerchief to subdue it, and see if it had any effect on Gavin.

  After forming this simple plan, I was brought up short, wondering why I felt the need to test Gavin’s reactions. Was it because of his reaction just now? Seeing how far I could push our relationship? Was I trying to manipulate him? No, that wasn’t it. I just wanted to know...what?