Page 45 of Slippers and Thorns
Ella
E
lla counted the loaves one more time. She was ten short of the goal, so she would have to decide which districts would be under-provided unless she could find something to substitute.
As she perused the supplies spread across the table, she was dimly aware of the kitchen staff hurrying around her. Lunch had just finished, but Cook liked to prepare well in advance. Delays caused by unexpected mishaps were unacceptable in her book. As a result, Cook had not been overly thrilled when Ella’s new program commandeered one of the kitchen tables early each afternoon.
“Are you finished yet?” Cook growled, resting her fists on her hips. It was amazing how much more pleasant Cook was when Ella only disturbed the kitchen by kneading some bread dough. “Anyone else would have left twenty minutes ago!”
Ella held in a sigh. She feared some of the other supervisors were less meticulous in their division of the food. She hadn’t received any complaints from the district leaders, though. Maybe they didn’t talk with the other districts, or maybe they had decided to be thankful for what help they had. Or maybe she was being too uptight.
“I’ll be done soon,” she promised. “You wouldn’t happen to have another ten loaves or twenty rolls, would you?”
Cook glowered at her. “If I did, don’t you think they would already be on the table?”
“You’re right. Sorry.”
Cook just shook her head as she walked away. Ella quickly divided the loaves, then redistributed the rolls since she couldn’t break the loaves without drying them out. It didn’t fix the shortage, but it evened it out as well as she could.
“I’m ready,” she announced.
“Finally,” Cook muttered under her breath. She motioned to two footmen who began to cart the baskets to the wagon waiting outside.
Ella followed at a slower pace. She could help carry the food, of course – none of them were too heavy for her – but that wasn’t considered “proper”. So instead, she let the footmen do it, and reminded herself that she was being useful by getting the food to the people who needed it.
Once outside, she drifted over to Charlie and Henry, who were standing near the wagon waiting for her. Technically, according to their current instructions, one of them should have been in the kitchen with her, but they knew she wasn’t going to bolt before a food distribution.
Besides, neither of them was brave enough to risk Cook’s wrath by getting in her way themselves. Defend Ella with their lives against an attacker? Without a doubt. Face Cook? Not a chance.
They straightened to attention as she approached – for show because they were in public, not because she expected it. “Charlie. Henry,” she greeted them. They acknowledged her greeting with a brief nod.
After a few minutes of watching the loading, Ella inclined her head toward Charlie. “You may reinsert yourself in the normal rotation if you wish.”
She could feel his uneasy expression even though she couldn’t see it. “Are you certain, Your Highness? The prince—”
“Has finally listened to me,” she interrupted. “Mike—Michael understands that he was mistaken and voluntarily suggested that you return to your post.”
Having turned her head slightly, she could see Charlie’s raised eyebrow at her correction, but he didn’t comment on it. After a few moments, he ventured, “I heard you had a private lunch with the prince.” He hesitated before continuing. “Did it not go well?”
“What do you mean?” Ella asked, startled.
“Given my information…” Charlie paused as if considering his words. “I would have expected you to be happier.”
Ella thought about the tense silence at the beginning of the meal, her relief when she was finally allowed to explain and Michael actually believed her, the thrill when he almost kissed her…and her mortified anger when Lady Charlotte interrupted. Fighting to keep her thoughts off her face, she replied as neutrally as she could. “It varied.”
“Are you all right?” Charlie asked carefully.
Was she? Not really, if she thought too much about Michael and his behavior. However, she didn’t want to admit it to Charlie, even if Henry wasn’t standing next to him pretending not to listen. She knew Charlie wouldn’t ask for details; while he always had an open ear, he had never encouraged confidences, even before the archery incident. But she didn’t feel like sharing her humiliation with anyone right now. Maybe she would talk to Edna about it when they reached her district.
She was also a little afraid that once she started, she might have trouble stopping. Even if he wasn’t their prince, she wouldn’t feel right complaining about her husband to other men. Best to not broach the subject.
Shrugging, she ignored the question. “Who was your source?”
“Jacob.”
“Ah, yes, Jake,” Ella laughed. “I think that was a true crisis of conscience for him – disobey the king’s standing order to stay with me, or disobey the prince’s direct order to get lost?”
She heard a suppressed chuckle from Henry as Charlie smiled slightly. “Indeed. Although I must point out, Your Highness, that he prefers to be called Jacob.”
