Page 33 of Slippers and Thorns
Edna nodded. “He was hurt, and he decided to hurt you back. Now, you can choose to ignore it and shove the pain away for later, continue the cycle by wounding him more, or—” she paused and held up a finger for emphasis, “attempt tobreakthe cycle by forgiving him and showing him that you love him.”
“But I don’t feel it anymore,” Ella said through a tight throat, blinking away tears. “I’ve been trying to bring it back for months, and I want him to love me, but I—I don’t feel love for him like I used to!”
“Oh, dearie,” Edna sighed, reaching over and resting a gentle hand on Ella’s shoulder. “The wild feelings when love is new don’t last. They soften out into something sweeter and more permanent. Not feeling a spark at his touch doesn’t mean you don’t love him anymore.”
When Ella discovered that she had neglected to stuff a handkerchief into one of her pockets, Edna offered her a slightly dingy one of her own. Ella took it with a murmured thanks.
“Love is more than just feelings, dearie,” Edna told her. “Love is an action. Right now, you mustchooseto love your husband through your actions. The feelings will follow.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” Ella grumbled. “Especially when he won’t even talk to me.”
Edna sighed. “That will make it more difficult. But let me ask you, what made you begin to feel as if he no longer loved you?”
As she wiped her eyes with the borrowed handkerchief, Ella considered. “He stopped spending time with me. He was always too busy with other things.” After another minute, she added, “And even when he was around, he rarely touched me. He used to always wrap his arms around me or at least hold my hand or walk with me on his elbow, but he gradually stopped.”
“Well, why don’t you try that, then?” Edna suggested. “When you see him next, take his hand.”
Ella stared at her in horror, and Edna laughed. “Or if that feels too forward right now, you could just try seeking him out between meetings so you can stand around not looking at each other.”
Catching Michael instead of waiting for him to look for her wasn’t a bad idea; Ella wasn’t sure why she hadn’t done it before. “Do you think that would be enough?” she asked slowly.
Shaking her head, Edna replied, “I don’t know, dearie. Part of it depends on him, too; you can’t make his choices for him. But don’t limit yourself – it won’t hurt to show him you care in other ways, too. If it would make you feel loved if he were to do it for you, it surely can’t hurt to do it for him. The best way to win someone’s love is to show them that you love them.”
Ella slowly nodded. “Yes, I can see the wisdom in that.” Standing, she held the handkerchief out to her hostess. “Thank you for your kindness.”
“Oh, keep it,” Edna waved her away. “A gift to remember me by. Are you leaving, then?”
“Yes,” Ella sighed. “I have enjoyed our visit, and I cannot thank you enough for all of your help. But I should be getting back. Michael may not care what happens to me, but I’m sure my guards are frantic by now.”
Frantic might not have been the correct word to describe the emotional state of the castle personnel that were responsible for her safety, but the tense guards at the front gate visibly relaxed when Ella separated from the crowds in front of them. As she passed them, she heard a few blasts on a horn that were probably meant to recall her searchers from the city and saw a couple of runners heading for different areas of the castle grounds.
Henry reached her first. He smiled with relief and began to greet her, but then Charlie stormed up from the side. The muscles on his jaw stood out, a testament to how hard he was clenching his teeth.
Glaring at her, he ground out, “Do. Not. Ever. Do that. Again.”
With a flick of his head, he signaled Henry to join him in position behind her. Ella sighed and began walking again. Neither one of them touched her, but she had the distinct impression that she had as much control over her destination as a prisoner.
Hoping to avoid general notice, she steered for the servant entrance through which she had exited the castle. True, she had entered through the front gate, but that was before she picked up the stiff duo that would announce to everyone that she passed that the serving girl was actually one of their princesses.
Unfortunately, when she passed the barracks, her other two guards joined the group, taking up the flanking positions behind her while Charlie and Henry lengthened their strides to move in front of her. Michael – the crown prince – didn’t even move about thecitywith such a stifling formation.
She was in so much trouble.
CHAPTER 15
Ella
T
he one good thing about her mass of guards was that their suffocating nearness made it difficult for any servants they passed to see what she was wearing. Her entourage escorted her to her rooms so she could change into more appropriate attire, after which they took her to King Phillip’s study. Rather than lecture or yell, the king simply made her feel terrible by explaining to her how disappointed he was by her behavior. Michael was also present, but he stood quietly to one side affecting an air of indifference. The set of his jaw and a slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes, though, suggested he was actually furious.
From there, her crew of four led her back to her rooms, where she remained. One of her guards stayed outside her door; due to her “untrustworthy choices”, one of them would be attending her at all times now, even in the safety of Hartford Castle. She felt like she was under house arrest, but she supposed she couldn’t fault the king for his decision. Not after she had actually run from her guards when they spotted her.
That didn’t mean the extra constraints didn’t chafe, however. Word of her escapades was likely already spreading, even though King Phillip had done his best to suppress it, and the addition of a trailing guard throughout the day wasn’t going to help the gossip that she knew would be following her as well. It would also make it more difficult to feel like she had room to breathe, something that was becoming increasingly necessary as Michael not only drifted but seemed to be actively running away from her.
Ella stabbed her embroidery. It wasn’t very satisfying, but it allowed her a minuscule vent for her emotions. Throwing something would be better, but she wasn’t going to convince the king that she could be trusted by submitting to a temper tantrum.
Embroidery. She scowled down at the pretty picture as she drew the thread through the fabric and thrust her needle in again. Such a worthless pursuit. It was unfortunate that archery had fallen through if for no other reason than that it would have given hersomethingelse to do! Shooting a target would probably make her feel better right now, too.
