Page 50 of Ellie and the Prince

“Not all my life, only since Ellie disappeared. And, to be frank, I feel free!” The lift of one brow added a sardonic twist to this statement, leaving Omar confused.

“Shall we return to the ballroom?” Briar suggested. “I ask only that you allow me to break the news to Marielle. I believe her memories are starting to return. She danced with me tonight as if we were both still seven, performing our old lifts and spins.”

Omar might have remarked that she had danced just as naturally with him, but he kept that knowledge to himself, sensing Briar needed this connection with his twin sister.

The band still played as they entered, but dancers on the floor had stopped. People clustered at the garden doors, others turned to see what was happening, and the music faltered as band members dropped out one by one. Whispers became murmurs, and soon the room buzzed with talk.

Had the hobgoblins caused more trouble? Where was Ellie?

“What’s happening?” Omar asked a young lord he often teamed up with for tennis matches.

Lord Carevo, better known as Dino, answered, “Raquel and Gillian unmasked a staff member who dressed up and pretended to be a guest—the hot blonde you danced with. Did you know? The director fired her right in front of everyone.”

But Omar was no longer listening. He ran toward the garden door and struggled to break through the crowd. Ellie must have run outside, for everyone still stared in that direction. “Ellie!” he called.

At that moment, what felt like a cushion of magic dropped over the entire company, muting all sound. As Omar slowly turned, feeling as if he moved in a dream, a familiar voice called for attention. Prince Briar stood on the dais, his hands raised.

“Some” magic? Right.

Every eye in the room focused on Briar. “I wish to tell you a story.” His voice penetrated the thick silence. “Some of you know parts of this tale but not all. Eleven years ago, the royal family of Auvers traveled toward Faraway Castle, intending to experience our first family holiday. On the way, my parents, my twin sister, and I took a side trip to see the spectacular mountain views. One of the vehicles in our convoy got a flat tire, so my family stopped to picnic and enjoy the scenery while servants changed the flat. While we were eating, Marielle jumped up and chased after some bird or creature she had seen, calling for me to follow. By the time I got up and chased after her, it was too late. Not that I would have been able to save her.

“A huge griffin dropped out of the sky, grabbed Marielle from behind by her arms, and carried her away, high into the sky and beyond our sight. Our guards could not shoot at it for fear of harming Marielle, and the creature was quickly too far away for my mother’s magic to reach.”

Omar listened, as spellbound as everyone around him, while Briar spun out his astonishing tale.

“Our parents ordered an extensive search throughout the surrounding region, but no word of a little golden-haired girl could be found. They paid hunting parties to find that griffin. Our mother, Queen Brigitte, hired magicians to locate it or Marielle. All for nothing. It was as if she had vanished from the earth. As years passed with no sign of her, even our parents began to accept that she was forever lost to us and gave her up for dead, but I knew she must be alive and searched for her on my own.

“This summer I decided to visit Faraway Castle for the first time, and almost on the day I arrived I noticed a young woman bearing a strong resemblance to my family—to me, for that matter. I investigated, learned of her magical ability of persuasive speech and her connection with magical creatures, and my suspicion became certainty. Not until I conversed with a personage who professed to know her herbwoman protector did I discover when and how my sister disappeared eleven years ago: My father’s men were unable to locate her because the herbwoman places strong protective boundaries around her home.”

Briar paused to allow this information to sink into his audience’s minds, then pronounced: “The young woman known as Ellie Calmer, Controller of Magical Creatures at Faraway Castle, is my twin sister, Marielle Yvette Toulouse, daughter of Queen Brigitte and her consort, Prince Francis. She is myoldersister, and rightfully Crown Princess of Auvers.”

The magical restraint lifted. Gasps and murmurs filled the room. Briar jumped off the platform near Lady Raquel and the Honorable Gillian. “Ladies,” he said coolly in passing, but it was enough.

Lady Raquel’s face was livid, her lips compressed. Gillian moaned, “The lost princess Marielle! We insulted our own Crown Princess! But how could we have known? We thought she was dead! It isn’t fair!”

The conquering prince passed Omar with only a twinkling glance then approached the king and queen of Khenifra. He bowed low before them—Omar could find no fault with Prince Briar’s manner. He was respectful without subservience, and his face was, for once, devoid of humor.

“Your Majesties, I ask you now, as brother to the Crown Princess Marielle, if you will accept her as a worthy bride for your son Prince Omar.”

Omar swallowed hard.

King Aryn tipped his chin down and nearly smiled. “Your Highness, we had already discussed the matter and decided to accept our son’s choice of wife, whatever her station in life. Your sister has already proven herself a worthy consort to any man with intelligence and spirit enough to claim her heart. Someday she will be a wise and just queen.”

Queen Sofia smiled directly at Omar. “Go to her, Omar. She needs you.”

Briar also turned to face Omar, pointed toward the garden door, and stated with evident enjoyment: “She went that way.”

Omar rushed from the ballroom, his heart flying ahead of his feet.

Ellie sat there in darkness with her back against the door, staring into space while questions whirled through her head.

Why would the Gamekeeper tell her not to lose her joy, no matter what? Did he know something she didn’t know? Did the director have authority to fire her, or should she contact him?

“Enough self-pity,” Ellie growled. “One way or another, I’ve got to get out of this dress.”

She pushed herself to her feet, took two steps, tripped over something, and staggered a few paces, certain she was going to ruin her gorgeous gown. But the dress was tougher than it appeared, and she managed to find her balance and a light switch.

She’d tripped over her backpack on the floor just inside the tiny living room. Someone must have . . . The mind-picture of that horrid pooka in her cottage flashed through her thoughts, but before she could creep herself out entirely, a chorus of squeaks distracted her. A little creature dashed from under one chair to another. She recognized that gleaming white fur. “Frosti? How . . .?” Two more sprites poked their heads from beneath the little sofa and whistled—the boys! Then Sparki scampered directly to Ellie and disappeared beneath her skirts. “Wait, did you . . .? No, you can’t possibly have carried in my pack. Why are you still here? Is the coach somewhere outside?”

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