Just Ella

by Annette K. Larsen

  Her patience had run out. “You were sneaking around behind our backs and putting yourself in danger. Do not act as though you are an innocent in this. You did do something wrong.”

  “No one even knew it was me, Mother. That’s how separate we’ve kept ourselves from our people.” Her eyebrows raised, surprised at this new line of attack. “There was no danger. It’s been almost a year, and I’m an adult now. It’s time for him to let it go.” I was being disrespectful, but it had to be said somehow.

  She had regained her composure. “He was afraid for you.”

  “Yes, afraid I would lose my heart to someone who deserved it, instead of letting him give me to someone who deserved my title.”

  My mother just continued to gaze at me, my speech having had no effect on her. She looked disappointed—disappointed in me, and I had to look away. She nudged her horse into a trot and made her way toward the stables. I continued to walk Fancy for a bit, then nudged her along, wanting to reach the stables before my mother had gone.

  My mother was just walking out of the stables when I pulled to a halt. She stopped and watched me dismount, then walked over to me after I had handed Fancy’s reins to Charlie, one of the stable hands.

  She faced me, then told me, with more conviction than I had ever heard her use, “Ariella, your father would never give you to anyone.”

  I didn’t know what to say. She looked at me for a moment more, then strode off toward the palace. I stood there, wanting to believe her, but recollecting all too well the conversation between my father and Jeshua. As of yet, my father had said nothing to me of Jeshua. During his infrequent visits, Jeshua continued to slather me with attention, my indifference barely keeping him at arms length—most of the time.

  The temptation to tell him just how unwanted his attentions were was almost overwhelming, but the crushing inevitability of my situation left me feeling helpless and weak. Without Gavin in my life, I had far less reason to fight Jeshua’s advances.

  I shook myself from my thoughts and took a moment to put my pain away before I went back to the palace. I would normally have sought one of my sisters for company, but I found myself craving solitude instead. I retreated to the library—an occurrence usually reserved for Jeshua’s visits—and climbed the small set of stairs along one wall that led to a balcony, stretching the entire length of the library. I didn’t plan on spending much time here. I was simply in a wandering mood. Finding nothing of interest, I was headed back toward the stairs when I heard the library doors swing open.

  I still wasn’t in the mood for conversation, so I retreated out of sight in the hopes that whoever had entered would find what they sought and leave quickly.

  Then I realized what time it was and chastised myself for not remembering it beforehand. My father came here nearly every day at this time.

  I should have just walked down the stairs and faced him, but I was too much of a coward. Or I was too tired, or too...fragile. I didn’t think I could hold myself together if I had to face his disappointment, or worse, his indifference.

  I sat down to wait, knowing he wouldn’t be able to take much time out of his day. The door opened again and I got up to see if he had left. Instead I saw my mother come in, already changed and refreshed from our ride.

  “Hello, darling.” My father sounded surprised but pleased to see her. I moved over a bit so I could see both of them.

  My mother sat in a chair facing my father. “Forrester, I’m concerned.”

  He closed the book he had been perusing. “Concerned about what?”

  “Your treatment of Ariella.” I pulled back in surprise, and so did my father.

  “I do not wish to discuss Ariella.” He opened his book rather pointedly and my mother removed it from his hands.

  “I’m afraid you’re going to have to.”

  He sighed. “What is there to discuss?”

  “You are alienating her. This punishment has gotten out of hand. You are treating her unfairly.”

  “I am doing no such thing. Her behavior was unacceptable and I will not reward it.”

  “It’s been a year.” Her voice rose, and I was shocked to observe this private conversation. “It’s time for you to stop and consider what you are doing.” My mother held his gaze without flinching. “She is the most responsible, the most sensible of our daughters. You should be preparing her to be a queen, not shunning her for her curiosity.”

  “She needs to learn, Lorilai. She must learn from her mistakes.”

  “And what do you suppose she’s learning from your treatment of her? She’s learning that her father and her king is cruel and without compassion. Do you have any idea how bright she is? How aware she is of the world around her? How many truths she has gleaned from the time she spent with that boy?”

  “That boy was a misfit and a disgrace,” he declared and stood up.

  “That boy taught her more about herself and about her kingdom than anyone else.” My father scoffed. “Do you have any idea what she thinks of you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Forrester, she’s losing her respect for you.” She paused to let this sink in. “And frankly I don’t blame her. You certainly haven’t done anything to earn her respect lately.”

  “I don’t have to earn anyone’s respect.” His voice was vicious, which was almost more shocking than the way my mother had spoken.

  My mother sat for a moment, unaffected by his outburst, then said calmly. “You know that’s not true. Please don’t act as though the world has suddenly changed just because Ariella defied you. We all must earn every bit of respect. That’s the only way—”

  My father held up a hand to silence her. “I know.” He blew out a breath, then sat back down in his chair, looking tired. “If a king does not have the respect of his people, then the only thing he rules is fear.” It sounded like a recitation—something he had been taught long ago.

  “And fear holds no loyalty,” my mother added.

  “Perhaps that’s the problem.” My mother’s brow furrowed, confused, so he went on. “I’ve known many fears in my life, having faced many threats. But none compared to what I felt when we found her missing. The thought that she could simply disappear without anyone noticing horrified me. It still does.” He ran a weary hand over his face. “Well, Lorilai, what do you suggest I do?”

  My mother smiled, “Let go of your anger and start talking to her again—at the very least.”

  He nodded his head, then got to his feet and crossed to my mother’s chair. She lifted her face as he leaned in to kiss her.

  I stepped back, needing to look away. My eyes stung and my chest ached. It hurt to see people who were truly in love; it always made me wonder if it could have been me. If Gavin hadn’t been forced away, could we have loved each other that way?

  ***

  The next day, I went back to the maze and sat in his room, wondering why I had abandoned this place of solace. True, there was a sadness that came with being here, but I still loved it. This place brought back so many memories of genuine happiness. And despite Gavin’s absence, I found comfort here. So I continued my visits. Instead of retreating to the library or escaping on horseback, I took my books to the garden room.

  I was headed there the day before Mia’s wedding, book in hand, when I heard someone call my name. I turned to see Jeshua walking toward me and tried not to let my face scrunch in distaste. He bowed when he reached me. “My dear Princess, how good to see you.”

  I curtsied. “Prince Jeshua. Have you come for the wedding?”

  “Yes. It’s certainly reason to celebrate.”

  “We are very happy about the union.” I started walking—away from the maze—knowing he would fall into step beside me. It was bad enough that Mia’s wedding had prompted an additional visit from him; I certainly would not allow him to taint the maze. I wrapped both my arms around my book, holding it to my chest.

  “It is a shame that she could not have made a better alliance.
”

  I breathed deep before responding. “I don’t think it’s a shame at all. While alliances are important, we are hardly in the position of needing to seek them out. There was no reason to manipulate Mia’s life when our peace is not being threatened.”

  I glanced at him to see shock and even a bit of disapproval in his features. “Your father has said that?”

  “I have said that. I am only telling you what I think.”

  “That is a relief.”

  I wanted to ask why but kept my mouth shut and shared another opinion instead. “I hope never to be manipulated in such a manner. It would be torturous to marry someone not of my choosing.”

  “I’m sure your father would never align you with anyone unworthy.”

  His response was not a comfort.

  We entered the castle and I had the good fortune and running into Lorraina and Marilee.

  “Prince Jeshua, you have come!” Marilee rushed up and swept into an enthusiastic but perfectly respectable curtsy, forcing Jeshua to bow and greet her with a kiss on her hand.

  I edged away at a sedate pace, knowing that she would chatter for a bit before allowing him to greet Lorraina who stood behind her, back rigid, nose aloft.

  I didn’t see him again until dinner, where the celebratory spirit was lively enough that he focused more on his wine than on me.

  The next morning was filled with enough last minute preparations that I avoided Jeshua altogether and was able to attend and enjoy the wedding in peace.

  The ceremony left me almost breathless. The radiant light in Mia’s eyes throughout the entire day was a testament to her happiness—a happiness afforded her by her choice. The stream of envy running through my heart was continuous, but so was the joy I felt for Mia. So I focused only on the joy until late that night, when I allowed myself to cry into my pillow.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Return

  IT HAD BEEN seventeen months since Gavin left. I tried not to keep track of the time but had failed completely.

  I was sitting on the edge of the pool in the middle of the Gavin’s garden room, my feet immersed and my skirts pulled up scandalously high, out of the water’s reach. In all my visits to this room over the years, the only person who had ever been here was Gavin. Besides, even if someone had seen me, I wouldn’t have cared.

  I spent most of my mornings in this fashion, and could usually be found riding in the afternoon. I now knew the land surrounding the palace as well as anyone. I had spent months simply exploring and re-exploring the forest, foothills, and shoreline, usually trailed by Emmett, who had given up on trying to curtail my explorations. I felt completely at ease when I rode, but I still favored the garden room. For though the adventure of riding and exploring gave me distraction, it was the water round my feet and the books propped on my knees that gave me solace.

  Today my book was a sad one, a story of lost love and one of my favorites. As I read, I allowed myself to say the characters’ lines quietly to myself, as if they were my own. It wasn’t until I saw the blotches on the page that I realized I was shedding silent tears. I shook myself and brushed the tears from my cheeks. I had been so lost in my story that I had lost track of time as well as my surroundings. As I became conscious once again of my garden room, I realized there was a shadow to my right that should not have been there. I stood quickly, clutching my book to my chest to keep it from falling in the water and whirled around. I could only hope it was not Jeshua, appearing for another unanticipated visit and come to destroy yet another piece of my life.

  But it wasn’t Jeshua.

  “Gavin,” I breathed out, then had to remind myself to breathe in again. There before me stood a taller, broader, and more handsome Gavin.

  “Hello, Princess.” I was too surprised to take note of the formality. He stood several paces from me, his feet planted wide, his hands clasped behind his back, slowly taking in my appearance.

  “You’re here.” I felt stunned but elated.

  “Yes, I’m here.” There was sadness behind his words.

  “I—” Words escaped me. I didn’t understand. I cast around for some idea to hold on to, then realized I still stood in the pool.

  “They allowed me to come back to work under the supervision of the head groundskeeper.”

  “How?” I asked as I stepped from the pool onto the dry stone pathway.

  “They no longer see me as a threat to you.”

  I stuttered for a moment, then said the only thing that came to mind. “I don’t understand.” Then I realized it didn’t matter if I understood. Gavin was back; he was back in my life. I was just about to take a step toward him to let him hold me in his arms when he spoke.

  “I am engaged.”

  My hands dropped to my sides and my tiny book slipped from my fingers and fell softly into the water dripping at my feet. All the air in my lungs escaped in one tortured breath as his words registered, and I became rooted to the spot. I felt my entire body sink, my chest collapsing in on itself, crushing my lungs. Here he was, standing before me—back in my life, within my reach—and I was losing him all over again. As dozens of emotions filled my body, I tried to form a response. I took in a deep, stuttering breath, and instead of letting it out in a sob as I wanted to, I forced a painful smile, barely holding back the tears as I said, “I’m happy for you.” I took in one more steadying breath and excused myself before walking past him and slowly away, trying to remain upright.

  I do not remember making my way, barefoot, back to my room. I do not remember crawling into my bed fully clothed. I only remember that the emptiness, which had filled my chest for years, had now been replaced by a terrible, throbbing ache. It was a pain so deep I almost couldn’t feel it, and yet I couldn’t breathe. The time for me to be at my lessons came and went without my noticing.

  I tried to put a name to what I felt. And the only word that came to mind was…broken. I felt broken, and it was Gavin who had broken me. Never would I have anticipated that. Never would I have thought that Gavin, of all people, would be the one to break me. Never would I have imagined that loving someone could be so utterly painful.

  The afternoon and evening slipped away. I got out of dinner by pleading ill and permitted only Gretchen to enter my room. She insisted on helping me out of my gown and into my nightdress so I could lie down comfortably. She didn’t ask any questions, seeming to know by the emptiness in my eyes that I would not yield to interrogation. It was her understanding that prompted me to say, as she turned to leave, “Gavin is back.” I heard her stop as I stared, unseeing, at the ceiling. “He is going to be married.”

  I will forever be grateful to Gretchen for what she did next. She broke every rule as she lay down beside me and draped her arm around me.

  I cried myself to sleep.

  Waking in utter darkness, I tried to decipher the noise that had brought me out of my miserable sleep. Gretchen was no longer beside me, and I wondered if her leaving had awoken me. Then I heard it. Someone was walking away from my door, and I realized the noise that had woken me was a low knock. I tried to summon the energy to go to the door and peer outside but instead decided I would wait till morning. So I lay my head back on my pillow and closed my eyes.

  But sleep did not come. I lay there for I don’t know how long and tried not to think of him. When a dim glow appeared at my window, I gave up the idea of sleep and decided to sate my curiosity. Slipping off my bed, I pulled my covers with me, draping them around myself as I walked slowly to my door, the excess fabric dragging behind me.

  I opened the door and peered out, expecting to see nothing. Instead I found a book lying on my threshold. Even before I picked it up, I knew it was my book—the book I had been reading when Gavin found me. It felt damp against my fingers as I picked it up, and I vaguely remembered letting it drop from my hand just after Gavin told me he was marrying someone else. He must have plucked it from the puddle of water. He must have found my door in the middle of the night in order to return it to
me.

  It was an act of kindness. Yet, as I allowed the book to fall open in my hands, I despised him for it. I hated him for doing something so simple, yet so thoughtful, so obviously prone to make me want him so soon after he had denied me that option. I turned back into my room, shut my door and went back to my bed. I lay upon it with my covers still clutched around me, holding the book to my chest and staring into nothingness as day took hold of my room.

  When Gretchen came back I asked her to make excuses for me—to tell my parents or sisters or whoever might ask that I was sick or exhausted or anything to keep them away from me. I lay in bed, with the book clutched over my heart for hours. I had no appetite. I just kept thinking of those words he had spoken to me, and the book he had returned to me, and the sadness on his face when he told me he was engaged. I couldn’t make it fit together. My first thought was that he did not love this girl who would become his wife, but that thought—that Gavin would marry someone without loving them—was incomprehensible to me. Surely he would not do that to himself, or to this girl. Of course, many people did marry without love. On a list of priorities for marriage, love barely made the top five for many.

  But this wasn’t most people. This was Gavin—my Gavin. Gavin who laughed at the world if it became too serious, Gavin who didn’t see me as a princess the first time we met, Gavin who had become the very best friend in the world, Gavin whom I had fallen in love with. It felt cruel, and yet Gavin could never be cruel.

  It was with these thoughts that morning turned to afternoon, and it was still several hours before I got up.

  When I finally summoned the energy to pull myself out of bed, I could think of only one thing to do. And so I fairly stalked out of the palace and into the grounds, an extra set of under things bundled in a shawl and clutched to my chest. I didn’t know where else to go, so I decided to go back to the waterfall. I had not been since Gavin had left. My time outdoors had been occupied by riding alone, until recently, when I had allowed myself to return to the garden room.