Just Ella

by Annette K. Larsen

  “You were following me to protect me?” He stayed silent. “Are you out of your mind? You cannot protect me at your own expense. You cannot.”

  “What would have happened to you if I hadn’t been there?”

  “Why didn’t you leave when you heard the guards coming?” I demanded. “You knew they wouldn’t harm me, but look at you.” My point was made for me as he sat up with a groan. “Don’t protect me, Gavin.”

  He cast his eyes skyward for moment, lips pressed together, head shaking. Then he looked me full in the face. “I’m sorry, Princess, but protecting you is ingrained in me. I cannot not protect you.”

  From the moment I had walked into this room my dominant emotion had been agonizing sympathy and pain at seeing how he had been treated. But suddenly I felt as though I needed to be on my guard. I moved away from him, creating distance between us, remembering that he had broken my heart. “You don’t have the right to protect me.” He could not be engaged and continue to care about me; it would break my heart all over again.

  “That’s a bit hypocritical,” he said, forcing himself to his feet and walking stiffly over to a chair standing in one corner of the room. “You protect me. You walked in and saved my hide just now. Why do you have the right and I don’t?” He sounded…sad, with only a hint of anger.

  “I am not the one,” I began, not able to meet his eyes and trying to be tactful, “whose responsibilities lie elsewhere.”

  “We both have responsibilities,” he said in a tired voice, “and as a subject of this kingdom, one of my responsibilities is to protect you.”

  I decided to be more blunt. “I’m not engaged.”

  He turned to face me. “What about Prince Jeshua?” He spat the name, a lot like I did.

  “Please don’t speak to me of Jeshua; he’s the reason you’re in this place.” I thought back to my reasons for running to the dance and had to swallow the disgust as I remembered Jeshua’s advances. “He’s the reason I snuck out without thinking. He—” I looked over at him in time to see his brow furrow in anger and his nostrils flare. I couldn’t blame him for being angry with me. His being here was my fault.

  “What did he do?” I scarcely heard his question, his voice was so low, filled with menace. His anger was not directed at me, but at Jeshua. How ridiculously ironic: Gavin—engaged Gavin—coming to my defense.

  I dropped my gaze, unable to watch his emotions as they roamed freely across his face. “I don’t want to talk about—”

  “Did he hurt you?” The fear in his voice made me look up. His eyes studied me, trying to surmise if I was hurt, but enfolded in Marilee’s cloak, he could see only my face and my hands. So he stopped taking inventory and waited for me to answer.

  “No,” I assured him. “No, he just—” I paused, not wanting to say it aloud. “—kissed me, is all.” I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to rid myself of the memory. Why did I feel the need to tell Gavin anyway? I couldn’t keep myself from reassuring him and I hated it. His anger remained, and I sensed that now it was directed at me.

  “Well, I suppose that leads back to my original question. Are you going to marry him?” He tried to sound cold, uninterested, but it didn’t quite work.

  Anger seeped in through my sympathy. How dare he care? How dare he act like he had a right to care? He was the one who was engaged and yet he was getting angry with me when he only suspected that I was engaged. “I don’t know why you care. Why should it matter to you if I marry a man whom you know I loathe?”

  Disbelief was written clearly on his face. “If you hate him so much, then how is it he kissed you, Ella?”

  He questioned my actions and it was humiliating to defend myself to him; it was heartbreaking and wrong. It was none of his concern what I did or didn’t do. And yet I had to make him understand. And calling me Ella? I was so taken aback by his accusations that I’m sure the hurt and betrayal showed clearly on my face. “Because he had a mind to and he’s stronger than I am.” I could hear the vulnerability in my voice but hoped he didn’t.

  He thought that over for a moment and I saw his anger shift back to Jeshua. “He had no right—”

  “Stop,” I commanded in desperation. “Quit acting as though you have the right to accuse or defend me. You have neither.” My voice had started out strong, but broke on the last two words. I stared right at him and he couldn’t hold my gaze.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for…” He shook his head, trying to clear it and I wondered why exactly he felt sorry. For leaving? For coming back? For saving me? For what? “So, your father’s promise of betrothal has not come to pass?”

  “No.” I spoke with conviction. On this subject, I was certain. “And it never will.” His reaction to this news looked like surprise, relief, and quite a bit of disbelief. He didn’t entirely trust my conviction, but I tried not to care. I pulled my feet beneath me and got up clumsily. I had to get away. “Goodbye, Gavin. You may leave whenever you are ready.”

  “The captain may not be done with me yet.”

  “The captain will answer to me,” I snapped. If he insisted on snubbing me for my rank, then I might as well use it to my advantage.

  I walked away, slammed the door behind me, and stalked to the main entry where the captain stood with several others. As I approached him without slowing my pace, he snapped to attention. I stopped only a foot from him, and though he towered over me, there was no question as to who was in control. He stood straight and unmoving, looking me in the eye, waiting for my order.

  I wanted to say something, feeling justified in transferring my furious anger into power. It was then I felt something for the first time: an instinctual need to exert force over another person. And while I reveled in it, I also recoiled, disgusted with myself.

  I had no right. My position should not have offered me this power. I knew that this man standing before me, who had earned his place and the respect of those under him, should not have been cowed by me. But I did have that power—it had been given to me long ago; I had just never had a reason to use it. And now I wondered if I could go back. It felt so good to feel in control. Having control over others was a heady experience, but to feel as though I were directing my own path left me intoxicated.

  I consciously reeled myself in. I could have given any order, doled out any punishment. But I couldn’t—I wouldn’t. I did not want this absolute power, because it would ruin me. And so with a deliberate effort of will, I took a step back. “I was attacked by one man; he was intoxicated and belligerent. This other man saved me. You must allow him to leave when he is ready.” My voice was thick with emotion and didn’t sound powerful at all.

  The captain appeared stunned. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

  I wanted to scream at him for what he had done, but more than that, I wanted to use my power as little as possible. “I will trust in your discretion in this matter.”

  “Of course, Highness. Though the king will, of course, be apprised of the situation,” he reminded me, still looking like he didn’t know quite what to think of me.

  I nodded, lost for words, hoping that my father would trust the captain, and turned directly to the door. I made my way up to the palace with resolute step, refusing to cry, viciously holding on to my anger.

  I moved silently through the deserted corridors and into my room. It was very late and exhaustion consumed me. I sat down in a chair by my bed and felt my anger flatten into numbness as I waited for the motivation to get undressed. But I never found it. I sat there, thinking of the events of what seemed like an endless day.

  This morning, I had seen Gavin’s fiancée for the first time. Just this afternoon, Jeshua had shown up unannounced, taken me for a walk, kissed me. I had fled to the village dance and seen Gavin dancing with his bride-to-be—the nameless girl I couldn’t seem to hate even though it seemed like I should. I had spoken with Eli, fled from Gavin, had my life threatened. I had declared my independence from my father and from Jeshua, then used my
influence as a royal to have Gavin released and exonerated. And I had had one more heart breaking conversation with Gavin. This day had lasted a year, yet it was all so fast.

  Sleep claimed me eventually, and I woke up a few hours later, fully clothed and slouched in my chair. I convinced myself to unfasten the cloak and let it slide to the ground as I climbed onto my bed and fell immediately back to sleep.

  The next morning I woke late, though I would have welcomed more sleep. I still felt exhausted, but I was wide awake and decided to go riding.

  Weston saw me approaching the stables and had Fancy saddled and ready to go by the time I arrived. Though I usually took a moment to speak with Weston, today I simply mounted and nudged Fancy out of the stables and into a gallop, wanting to be alone with my thoughts. I rode into the forest and urged Fancy to follow along the stream that ran down the mountain until I found myself sitting on top of my waterfall.

  I had never viewed it from this direction before and it gave me the feeling of sitting on the precipice of my world. So much of my time with Gavin had been spent right here—so many good memories. Then there was the memory of my father and Jeshua. I had been devastated by that conversation, had the breath knocked from me completely. But last night, I had said no. After more than a year and a half, I had finally been given the chance to say no. Suddenly I could breathe again, and while I reveled in that feeling, I also felt the loss of Gavin even more keenly. Now that the inevitability of a forced marriage no longer stood in my way, I realized just how dim my prospects were.

  There had to be more. There had to be something I could do to make somebody’s life better. I couldn’t be with Gavin, but I could do something for someone. And if he would just stay away from me, perhaps I could even forget him a little.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Princess Ari

  I REQUESTED AN audience with my father for the first time. I hadn’t wanted to speak with him since Gavin left. And before that, requesting an audience wouldn’t have been necessary; I could have just talked to him. I hated having to do it this way, but despite my anger over his treatment of me, his permission was necessary. So I stood in his study, my back straight, awaiting his presence.

  When he entered, he didn’t look past me, as had been his habit lately. Instead he stopped just inside the door, regarding me carefully. I tried to keep my face passive but polite. He issued a weary sigh, then closed the door and sat at his desk.

  “You requested an audience.” It was a prompt for me to speak, but it also sounded like a question.

  “I have a request to make.”

  His eyebrows rose. “You’re not going to give an explanation of your actions—?”

  “I didn’t know you wanted one.” He had never asked.

  He leaned his elbow on his armrest and thoughtfully pushed his fingers along his jaw. “I think I deserve one.”

  I didn’t know exactly what he wanted an explanation for, so I decided to cover everything, trying to rush through it. “The evening Jeshua and I went for a walk, I could tell that his interest in me was increasing and I didn’t know how to deal with that. My anxiety caused me to act irrationally. I went into the village for only a few minutes and as I was returning—” I swallowed and blinked, trying to maintain my composure. “I should not have been out alone.” I forced myself to take a deep breath. “As for Jeshua, I should have made my feelings clear long ago, but I didn’t know how.”

  We stared at one another in silence. He didn’t appear particularly angry. He looked more like he was trying desperately to figure something out.

  “The gardener was the one who delivered you from your attacker?”

  My chest tightened. “Yes.” He just looked at me, as though requiring further explanation. “The reason I only stayed in the village a few minutes is because I saw him. Apparently he saw me as well. He saw I was alone, and he was rightly concerned.”

  The silence unnerved me, but at least he was listening to my words.

  “This behavior cannot continue, Ariella.” The anger I had been waiting for finally came out. I stared at my hands, forcing myself not to argue. I still needed to make my request. He blew out a breath, his anger deflated by my lack of response. “Your request, then?” His voice was tight, but most of the anger was gone.

  “I want to make regular visits to the village.” His eyebrows shot up and he opened his mouth. “Please let me finish,” I rushed on. “With your permission and with whatever escort you choose, I would like to make regular trips into the village. I want to get to know the people. I want them to know me. I want to show them that we care for them, not just as a whole, but also as individuals. I know you can’t take on that responsibility, but I want to.” He sat silent, but I thought I glimpsed approval in his eyes.

  I guess that he was resistant to my proposal, in part because of his protective nature, but mostly because he didn’t want to give me what I wanted when I had so recently defied him—again. I believe what won him over in the end was that the idea was a good one. He had told me once that caring for individuals would make his job nearly impossible. That didn’t mean he didn’t want someone else to care for them.

  ***

  It had been two months since Gavin had come back. I still spent some time each day with my tutors and I continued to draw, but the best parts of each day were my visits to the village.

  The first couple of weeks had been strange; the people didn’t know how to react to me. But eventually they came to accept my presence, and then trust me. Each day found me, trailed by two guards, walking through the village streets. I could see that the people would have been content to just see me among them, but that would not have satisfied me. I wanted to do for them, not just be seen by them. It turned out to be a more difficult endeavor than I expected. Adults were far too wary to accept my help at first because they did not wish to disrespect me.

  Children, however, were much easier to convince. For though they recognized me as the princess and were in awe of that fact, they still weren’t inclined to turn down help with chores. So I spent my first weeks helping children carry water from the well to their homes, or assisting them in weeding a little patch of garden. I found myself drawn to the poorer neighborhood. They were the most in need of help and the most likely to take it.

  Of course, people stared and talked quietly behind their hands. But eventually some of the mothers allowed me to hold their fussing babies while they went about the market, or pull up a few vegetables after I came back with their children from the well to find them harvesting their garden. By the end of the month, they were inviting me into their kitchens, where I learned to knead bread dough and chop vegetables to put in a stew.

  By the middle of the second month, they were smiling as I approached and some of the children would run to me, calling, “Princess Ari!” and wrap their arms around my middle, inviting me to play hide and seek. The women would call out a greeting and the men would nod their heads and smile.

  I found myself more content and wondered many times why I had never done this before. I was still a princess to these people, but in a different way. I wasn’t Princess Ariella; I was Princess Ari. And with that title, given to me by children, being a princess didn’t bother me so much. Though hide and seek was difficult, since the children only had to look for my guards to find me. I didn’t mind, and sometimes even took pleasure in making them climb into small places. They tried to appear surly, but sometimes caught them on the verge of smiling. I also understood why I had protection, and I thanked my father for his extreme lenience. Our agreement was simple—he allowed me to go into the village so long as I went as myself. Once in a while I imagined he might even be proud of me for the work I did. But he never said and I never asked.

  My mother, however, did say something. I was in my sitting room, writing down the names of the people I had promised to visit the next day, when the door opened. Assuming Gretchen had come in, I finished writing and started to unfasten my cloak while looking over my list to be
sure I hadn’t forgotten anyone.

  “Well, I must say.” I was startled to see my mother standing in my doorway. “You’ve come back to life.”

  I looked down, struck by how sad her statement sounded, but also how true. “I know.” I draped my cloak over a chair, then sat down, quite exhausted. “I wasn’t much use after he left, was I?”

  “You tried, just…not very hard.” She smiled in a knowing way and walked farther into the room. “But now—now you’ve taken charge of your life.” I nodded, considering her words. I was surprised though, as she voiced her next thoughts. “I hesitated in letting him return. I was afraid having him here would make it worse, make you not want to try at all.”

  “You knew he was coming back?” My parents did not usually deal with the hiring of workers around the palace.

  She nodded as she sat down across from me. “The head groundskeeper, Joseph, came to your father. He thought that since Gavin had grown up and changed in many ways, he should at least approach us with the idea of allowing him to return. The maze hasn’t been the same in his absence. He’s a skilled laborer.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I wasn’t upset, just curious. A little warning would have been nice.

  She thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. Perhaps I thought his presence would go unnoticed.” I gave her an incredulous look and she smiled. “Or maybe I just thought you would deal with it better on your own. And I think I was right about that.”

  “Well,” I said, not sure I had dealt with it well at all, “I dealt with it.”

  “You’ve done beautifully, Ariella. You’ll make an extraordinary queen one day.”

  I gazed at her for a moment. “You know I’m not going to be queen, Mother.”

  She smiled. “No matter where your life takes you, Ariella, you will be a queen, with or without the title.”

  She rose from her chair, kissed my forehead, and left me wondering what she meant.

  ***