Just Ella

by Annette K. Larsen

  A few days later, I found a group of children playing by the river and informed them that we were going to have a treasure hunt. I had hidden my treat-filled satchel somewhere in the village and sent them on a wild goose chase to find it. I gave them clues, sending them running to different locations, and when we all arrived there, I would make them do something silly in order to earn the next clue.

  At the moment we were at the well, all of us hopping around it on one foot. These children were inexhaustible. I had to do each assignment right along with them, no matter that I usually carried one of them while we ran to each location. My once carefully secured curls were now hanging down my back and I had left my cloak somewhere along the way. Hopefully one of my trusty guards had picked it up for me. They hadn’t joined us yet. They had given up running with us and tended to amble to each location, arriving just before we took off to the next.

  I hopped around the well only once before I gave up and collapsed on the cobblestones, pulling my hair away from my damp neck. I wondered at that moment what my sisters would think if they saw me. Then I laughed, shaking my head at the absurdity of my situation—an absurdity I loved. Among my family I felt like a misfit, but somehow I fit in here. These children didn’t care that I sat cross-legged on the cobblestone while they bounced around me with their endless supply of energy. They didn’t mind that my hair had come down or that I often looked unladylike as we stormed through the streets in search of the next clue. I was one of them.

  As the children started dropping one by one, their legs exhausted, I let my hair down and looked around the square in preparation for the next clue. My guards needed to catch up before I sent the kids off again. But it wasn’t my guards that I spotted watching over me.

  Gavin was here. In the shadows of one of the lanes, he stood with his arms folded, watching me. I didn’t allow my eyes to linger on him. What brought him here? Was he following me? I had never seen him in the village during the day. That was one of the benefits of coming to the village—distance from Gavin. And yet here he stood.

  My guards came into sight and I decided it was time to continue. I needed to get away from Gavin. I got up on my knees, sat back on my heels and waited for the children’s attention to return to me.

  “Our next stop is to the pastry maker, the keeper of cookies. Let’s go see the—”

  “Baker!” The children shouted in unison, bursting to their feet and scrambling toward the lane leading to the bakery.

  I rose as well and called toward my guards, “Did you happen to find my cloak?”

  “No, Princess.”

  “No matter,” I called back as Sasha and Henry dragged on my hands. “I’ll find it later.” Turning to follow the children, I nearly tripped over Jordyn, who crouched, investigating his shoe. I picked him up. “Come, young squire, we must off to the baker!” I said as I ran along the street with Sasha and Henry still keeping hold of the sides of my skirt. “This way!” I shouted when some of them headed off toward the wrong bakery.

  Thank goodness my mother had seen my need for plain dresses. After a couple weeks of going into the village, she realized my usual attire just wouldn’t work. My seamstress had been asked to make me several casual dresses, with practical fabric. No frills, no trains and no overabundance of skirts. I loved these dresses. They allowed me to move, and breathe, and run.

  I arrived in front of the bakery amidst bouncing children begging for their assignment. The couple that owned the bakery came outside to see what all the fuss was about, so I explained our endeavor and asked them to give us a task.

  We were instructed to spin around until we fell down. I laughed to myself, then took a deep breath and started my turns. The four and five-year-olds around me dropped quickly, but the older, more experienced spinners were still going strong as I realized that I was about to fall down. I had intended to “fall down” before I got too dizzy, but spinning on the cobbled street with my arms spread wide and my hair fanning out around me gave me such a feeling of carefree abandon that I kept going without thinking. I attempted to sink to the ground gracefully, but someone caught me beneath my arms and lowered me carefully into a sitting position. He crouched behind me, using one hand to support my back as the other rested on my arm.

  Did my guards think I couldn’t handle a simple children’s game? I laughed as my head continued to drift. “You needn’t have done that. I’m perfectly fine.” I glanced up just in time to catch Marin as she stumbled, giggling, into my lap. She sprawled across my legs and I watched as her eyes tried to focus on the guard behind me.

  My head had almost stopped spinning when Marin grinned up at the man behind me and asked, “Mr. Gavin, did you see me twirling?” The smile slipped from my face. It was Gavin who perched behind me with a hand on my back.

  I wanted to jump up and put as much distance between myself and Mr. Gavin as possible, but I was still slightly dizzy. Fine. I would crawl away if that were what it took. But Marin was still happily draped across me, giggling as she watched the upside-down view of the other children afforded her as her head lolled back over one of my arms.

  I arched my back forward, hoping he would drop his hand away. He didn’t. Instead I saw his hand, clutching my cloak, as he laid it beside me. “You left this,” he murmured, and I flinched away. His voice sounded much too close. I closed my eyes, waiting for him to leave while cringing away from the warmth spreading through me. There was nothing to say. I just wanted him away from me. It was too hard and I loved him too much. Marin sat up in my arms at the same time I felt Gavin stand up, his hand brushing through my hair as he rose.

  Marin put her hands on my cheeks, “What’s wrong, Princess Ari?” I opened my eyes and struggled to smile into her sweet face as Gavin moved away.

  “Nothing,” I lied, trying to ignore the feel of his hand that still lingered on my skin. I distracted myself by watching people as they tried to weave their way through the maze of sprawling children. For a moment I wondered if we were causing trouble, but then I noted the smiles on each of their faces as they stepped over limbs and torsos. They didn’t mind. I finally pulled myself together enough to gather the children around me for one last clue.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Misunderstanding

  AFTER SPENDING SO much time in the village, palace life seemed even worse. My life lacked a sense of purpose inside the palace. The only occasions of note were the many parties requiring my presence. I attended mechanically. I sipped my drink and joined in conversations and tried to use the time to observe people, to try and make sense of the life I lived. I took my turn spinning around the grand hall. Dancing had been so ingrained into my person that it took no thought. My dancing was flawless regardless of where my thoughts were.

  Tonight’s party was for Jensa and Prince Goran. He had proposed and she had accepted—not because she loved him, but because she could think of no practical reason to say no. He was an amiable person, a good prince; that was all she required. I should have been happy that she seemed happy, or at least content. But I couldn’t help thinking of my own betrothal, and what would have happened if I had gone along with my father’s plan. I knew, absolutely, I would have been miserable. But I also knew that Jensa and I had very different temperaments, and so I hoped, I hoped she would find happiness, that she would grow to love her fiancé.

  This celebration had been hastily pulled together. Goran had proposed after the ball held for Lorraina’s sixteenth birthday. Our guests were more than happy to stay a few extra days when my parents decided to throw the event together. No one objected to prolonging the revelries.

  Unfortunately, the short notice didn’t allow much time for new gowns to be made. Thus I found myself stepping into a dress I had been avoiding ever since it had been presented to me. It was red, and oh, it was ghastly. Instead of a deep red, or even a rich red, it was just bright red and it practically hurt my eyes.

  After Gretchen had laced me into it, we both stood before the mirror, frowning at my ref
lection. “Well,” Gretchen began, trying to sound enthusiastic, “It’s…very…”

  “It’s awful.”

  “Absolutely horrifying, Miss.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. Though there was nothing about my appearance that I wanted to laugh about, it was so wonderful to have Gretchen be brutally honest with me that I laughed nonetheless. “I can’t believe the seamstresses think this dress is flattering on me.” I turned to see the back of the dress. “They must be utterly mad.”

  Gretchen stood back to examine me for a moment. “You know… it might not be so terrible if it weren’t entirely red.”

  “Well, there isn’t much I can do about that now.”

  “Actually…” Gretchen murmured as she walked toward my wardrobe. She rifled around until she found a wide black sash belonging to one of my other dresses. “Let’s try this,” she suggested, and proceeded to wrap it around me in several different ways until she was satisfied. It ended up wrapping from just under my bust on my right side, down to the left side of my waist, where it crossed over, and then around to my right hip. There we tied it and let the ends hang down to mingle with the folds of my skirt.

  “I still hate the red,” Gretchen proclaimed as she stepped back, “but it’s much better.”

  I agreed. The shade of red still made me wince, but the black made the dress dramatic instead of gaudy. “Are people allowed to wear black to an engagement celebration?” I wondered aloud.

  Her brow scrunched together. “You do look a little like you’re mourning something.”

  I smiled at that, but then found myself frowning as I thought of the different losses I could be mourning. I decided not to dwell on it and so said lightly, “I’m mourning the enjoyment I could have had at this affair if it weren’t for Jeshua.”

  Gretchen wrinkled her nose in distaste, then went about setting my hair.

  Jeshua hadn’t gone away as I had hoped. My refusal of his affections had been conveyed to him in no uncertain terms. Unfortunately he seemed determined to become my shadow. He had come, in all his pomp, to Lorraina’s birthday. He had flirted as usual with my sisters, all the while keeping his eyes riveted on me. I tried my best to ignore him, but he kept popping up at my side to engage me in conversation or ask me to dance. This evening’s festivities just gave him one more opportunity to make uncomfortable advances toward me.

  When I was ready, I proceeded to the top of the stairs and took a deep, fortifying breath. I made my regal entrance and took a turn around the ballroom, greeting guests and trying to be sociable. Then I found an out of the way spot at the edge of the ballroom and tried to relax.

  My reprieve was short lived as Jeshua sauntered toward me. I squared my shoulders, ready for battle.

  “My dear Ariella,” he said loudly, approaching me with that unmistakable air of confidence. “You do look ravishing tonight.” He plucked my hand from my side and forced a kiss on it.

  “Prince Jeshua,” I responded, giving only the slightest nod.

  He kept my hand, though I pulled on it with some effort. “You have not been dancing much this evening. I think I must save you from being a wall flower.”

  “Chivalrous of you, but I assure you, I am content to simply watch.”

  “An amiable response, to be sure,” he said as he yanked on my hand, forcing me onto the dance floor. “But I don’t believe it for a moment.” He pulled me abruptly into dance position and I had to will myself not to stamp directly on his foot. Instead I held my frame rigid, turning my face away.

  “Oh, Prince Jeshua, how little you know me.” I kept my voice pleasant, but allowed an undercurrent of malice to flow through my words.

  He pulled me a little closer, breathing on my neck. “On the contrary, Ariella, I know you better than you know yourself.” He finally moved us into the flow of dancers and I managed to create a little more distance between us. I wondered if he were trying to irritate me, or if he thought this domineering behavior would somehow endear him to me.

  I remained stiff throughout the entire dance, refusing either to smile or to look at him. I had grown tired of these games; I was tired of him trying to undermine my ability to choose for myself. He seemed to believe my affections could be forced from me.

  As the last notes of the song were played, he stepped back, holding only my right hand and bowed while I sank into a curtsy. As I rose, he leered at me. “Another dance, perhaps?” He tried to pull me back toward him, but I jerked my hand away.

  “No, thank you,” I said flatly. “I need some air.”

  He gave a regal bow and smirked as I brushed past him. He infuriated me.

  As I glided at a ridiculously quick pace toward an exit, I found myself flanked by Lorraina and Marilee.

  “In a hurry, Ariella?” Lorraina asked in a tone that hinted at being snide.

  “I just need some air.”

  Marilee latched onto my arm, trying to slow me to her pace. “Why didn’t you stay to dance with Jeshua? Or at least talk with him?” she asked in her usual conspiratorial tone.

  “The dance was finished and we had nothing to discuss.”

  Lorraina grabbed my upper arm and made me stop. “You are being rude, Ariella. Father would disapprove. Jeshua is a great friend to our family and for some reason he’s chosen to pay you special attention. I think you need to apologize,” she declared, her nose in the air.

  Typical Lorraina, trying to dictate the behavior of others. “If you’re so concerned about Jeshua, why don’t you go speak with him? I’m sure you’ll be more than polite.”

  Her lips pursed and her nostrils flared. “All right then, I will.” And she turned to seek out Jeshua, while I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Honestly, Ariella, I don’t understand you sometimes.” I turned to Marilee, who had curious bewilderment written on her face. I had to smile; Marilee could always be depended on to lighten the mood.

  I just shrugged. “What is there to understand?”

  “Sometimes you act as though you don’t even like Jeshua.” She took my arm again and we made our way toward the exit while I puzzled over her response.

  “Marilee,” I finally said. “I don’t like him.” Was that not obvious?

  Her eyes widened and she leaned in to whisper in my ear. “You mean you aren’t just making him chase you?”

  “No, I’m really not,” I assured her. It would have been amusing, if I weren’t so tired of everyone’s mistaken assumptions.

  “Well,” she huffed, and then seemed to have an idea. “Do you mind if I try for him?”

  This time I couldn’t help being amused and a smile broke across my face. “Be my guest.”

  “And let’s not tell any of the others. I don’t want any of them getting the same idea.” She gave me a warning look, as if this were the most serious of subjects. To her, it probably was, and I couldn’t help but wrap my arms around her.

  “Oh, Marilee,” I let out a laughing sigh. “You always make me smile.” I pulled back to look at her bewildered face, but didn’t bother explaining. I just linked my arm, once again, with hers and we finally made it out into the fresh air.

  After wandering outside with Marilee for a few minutes I returned in a better mood, ready, once again, to face whatever or whomever came my way. Or so I thought.

  I was speaking with Jensa for the first time that evening. She appeared genuinely excited about her upcoming marriage and we were having a good talk until Goran joined us—with Jeshua at his side. It surprised me when they approached together. I had never had the sense they liked each other. We were only together for a moment before Goran escorted Jensa away, with a gentle hand on the small of her back.

  Jeshua’s hand closed around my upper arm and he immediately started pulling me with him as he murmured, “A moment, if you please, Princess.”

  He had caught me off guard and succeeded in pulling me into an adjacent chamber before I could get my bearings.

  “Let go!” I finally managed as he pushed the door shut
. He unhanded me with a patronizing smile and positioned himself directly in front of the door. My chest tightened. “What is it, Jeshua?”

  He stood with his feet apart, hands clasped behind his back. “I thought it was time you and I worked through this misunderstanding we seem to be having.”

  “What misunderstanding?”

  “Your father seems to be under the misapprehension that you’ve refused my offer of marriage.”

  My nostrils flared. “It’s not a misapprehension, Jeshua. I have refused your offer.”

  He smiled. “Now, dear, you know that’s not how these things work.”

  “But it is how this is going to work. I’m not marrying you.”

  He gave a patient sigh and advanced toward me. “Ariella. Forgive me, but I have put a great deal of effort into our relationship, and I’m not going to allow you to destroy it because of a childish tantrum.”

  He continued to advance and I backed up—I couldn’t help it—for though he spoke in niceties, as though placating a small child, a threatening undertone ran through his words. I tried to speak calmly. “We don’t have a relationship, Jeshua. And this isn’t a tantrum. This is my decision.”

  He reached toward me. “I think you need to reconsider.”

  I pulled my arm from his clutching fingers and dodged around him, heading for the door. “There’s nothing to consider.”

  I hurried away, reaching for the door, but he got to me first. He spun me around and then took hold of both my upper arms, pinning me against the door. I stared at him, frantic, as he smiled congenially. “I think it’s only fair you give me a chance to change your mind.”

  “Fine.” My voice quivered as I spoke in desperation. “Say your piece and let’s be done with it.”

  One eyebrow twitched upward. “I wasn’t planning on talking.” His hands relinquished their vice grip on my arms and went instead to the sides of my neck as he pulled my face to meet his. He smashed his mouth into mine, kissing me with a ferocity I did not wish to understand, his lips trying to open mine. I used both my hands to push up on his chin, heaving his face away from me. When his grip broke, I slapped him soundly. His head snapped to the side, but he did not bring a hand to his cheek or even turn his head to look at me. He just smiled—actually smiled—and said, “My apologies, Princess,” before stepping back and gesturing for me to leave.