Page 2 of Slippers and Thorns
Fabian simply laughed again and threw something on the ground. A large cracking sound accompanied a flash of light and a plume of dark gray smoke. Throwing an arm in front of his eyes, Phillip shoved his wife behind him. The guardsman did the same with Michael.
When the smoke cleared, Phillip carefully lowered his arm and scanned the room, but all he saw was chaos among the guests. That, and a proud young king: shoulders hunched, head drooping, standing alone in the place where the smoke had originated.
The sorcerer was gone.
“Papa?” Phillip looked down to see Michael pulling on his sleeve with a frightened expression. “Up, pease?”
After another quick glance around the room to check for dangers, Phillip scooped his toddler into his arms. Steffan’s wife was cradling her baby daughter and crying out in a loud, desperate voice, begging the room for help, but there was nothing he could do for her.
Instead, he wrapped an arm around his own wife and hugged his small family close.
Roughly a year later, another baby girl was christened. There was no fanfare around her ceremony; rather than a king, her father was only a humble – if well-to-do – merchant from Daraigh. Fair-skinned, unassuming, with straight blonde hair and blue eyes, she couldn’t have been more different from Princess Helena, but little Arabella had a destiny to match.
Twenty-three years later…
CHAPTER 1
Ella
S
quinting at the bright yellow thread, Ella poked her needle through the fabric. In, and draw it out. In, and draw it out. Over and over and over again.
The needle stalled as she leaned back in her armchair. The stiff cushions made her back ache, but, like the rest of the furnishings in her suite, it was a beautiful piece of furniture made of rich, expensive materials. Deep reds surrounded her, and the plush rug under her feet was a treat she only dreamed of before coming to live in the Hartford castle. Although she wore proper ladies’ slippers at the moment, she loved to wiggle her toes in the soft surface when she was barefoot.
Straightening up again, she forced herself to resume stitching. “No one will notice, but at least I will have accomplishedsomethingonce it’s finished,” she muttered.
Suddenly, the needle jerked to a stop. Ella gave it a tug, but nothing happened.
“Oh, bother it all,” she snapped, throwing her embroidery onto the cherry end-table beside her chair. The wood frame clattered across the surface, but she was too irritated to wince at the scratches that likely resulted from the abuse. “Ihatesnarls.”
She shoved herself to her feet, reached one hand up to rub her temples, and paced the length of her sitting room a few times, feeling like one of the royal hunting dogs prowling about its kennel. She didn’t have the patience to pick out the snarl at the moment, but if she wasn’t going to embroider, what could she do instead?
Sweeping the hall would be a welcome change from the forced stillness of embroidery, but the last time she’d tried, she’d received a scolding from Mrs. Hodgkins, the housekeeper. So that was out. And it had been months since she’d made it anywhere near the laundry room.
Pausing at the window, she glanced up at the cloudless blue sky. It was perfect spring weather; maybe she should call for Elizabeth to meet her at the stables. A ride would break up the monotony.
It would also be lonely. Her ladies’ maid, a guard, and herself.
Although if the guard were Charlie, she would at least have someone to talk to.
Feeling drained by the direction of her thoughts, she leaned her forehead against the cool glass. The faint reflection of her perfectly-styled blonde hair and sapphire-blue eyes looked back at her.
“Smile, Ella,” she whispered to herself, forcing the corners of her lips up a little. “You never know who might be watching.”
A movement below caught her attention. Focusing beyond the window once more, she saw her husband standing on the brick path leading to the training yards. With him was a cluster of female courtiers.The muffled sound of his deep laughter reached her through the glass. While she watched, he said something that sent the flock into titters of delight.
One of them – unmarried, as most of them were – laid a hand on his arm as she gushed a response. Giving the woman a blinding smile, he lifted the hand from his arm and kissed it.
Ella pinched her lips, her eyes narrowing at the action.
He bade the ladies farewell, then turned to continue to the yards. His eyes flicked towards her second-story window. Was—was he actually looking for her?
Pleased, she gave him a tentative smile and a small wave. He merely nodded in acknowledgment, his face somber, before striding away.
“Anod?” Ella muttered under her breath. “Theyget laughter and smiles, andIget a nod?”
She hastily stepped away from the window and hid her face in the red brocade drapes, balling her hands into fists. Despite her best efforts, a few tears leaked out and trailed down her cheeks before she managed to force her emotions back down. She grabbed a handkerchief from her handbag – pockets weren’t appropriate for princesses – and wiped it across her eyes.
