Page 62 of Slippers and Thorns
“Then where were you going?”
“I—” He hesitated as he opened the door. “I was standing, wasn’t I?”
Stepping into the hall, Ella was horrified to see a footman at the end of the corridor. That in itself was not unusual, but the way he was moving – walking slowly forward as if through water, focused straight ahead – was.
Mike only stayed aware as long as she remained in contact with him. She couldn’t drag a footman along with them! And what if they found more?
Frantically, she tried to remember what Jackie had told her. How had this been fixed before?
Suddenly, she stretched out, grabbed the doorknob from Mike, and slammed the door loudly, the sound echoing down the hall.
“What did you do that for?” Mike demanded.
Ella breathed a sigh of relief. The footman was scratching the back of his head and looking around. After a few moments, he spun and walked off the way he had come.
“Sorry,” she said as sweetly as she could muster. “The doors have been sticking for me lately. It must be the humidity making them swell.”
Mike grumbled under his breath, but dropped the subject.
CHAPTER 26
Michael
N
ocking an arrow, Michael swiftly drew, aimed, and fired. The arrow sped through the air and embedded itself with a satisfying thump just outside the bullseye.
He was getting sloppy. Too much time playing with Ella and not enough time practicing.
Not that practice was a requirement for him. No one really expected him to be an expert marksman; that’s what he had personal guardsmen for. Since he never carried a bow except when hunting, he was unlikely to find himself in a fight for his life where his skill with one mattered.
Hunting was one of his favorite pastimes, though, and one couldn’t bring in a kill if one couldn’t hit the prey. Besides, he liked the bragging rights of being the best.
Except that Oliver had beat him at both archery and the sword. Even Charles, the archery dunce, had bested him in a sword fight.
He scowled. He definitely needed to practice more.
Ella would be arriving soon for their archery lesson, though, so he would have to be quick. Plucking another arrow from the bin next to him, he rapidly sent it flying toward the target. This time, it was just inside the center ring. Better, but not perfect yet.
Ah, Ella. Why had he waited so long to teach her how to shoot as she had requested? She wasn’t very good so far, but it had only been two weeks. Helena had been much better, but then, she had been trained from a young age and loved the sport, so she had spent far more time than was strictly appropriate for a princess down in the training yard improving her skill.
He had always found it curious that King Steffan allowed his daughter so much freedom. It was true that she was a younger child, but he still would have expected the king to want his daughter to look and act like a princess. Although, for some reason, she hadn’t lived in Himmelsburg, either, even though the rest of her family did. She always had plenty of servants and guards, but never any of the court, and never any strangers. And… There was something else strange dancing right at the edge of his mind, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.
Maybe her isolation was the reason for her unusual hobbies.
“Boo.”
Michael’s next shot went wide when a quiet voice just under his ear brought him abruptly from his musings. Irritated that he hadn’t kept his focus, he rounded on the interloper before his mind caught up with the voice.
“What do you—oh. Erm, good afternoon, Ella.” He rapidly changed course from the anger with which he had begun his statement. He should probably be upset with her, but even if he wasn’t trying to undo whatever caused her reservation with him, the playful look in her eyes held him back. Ella never meant any harm, and he didn’t want to ruin a mood that could only bode well for him…as long as he didn’t mind a detrimental effect on his accuracy as an archer. “You know, that was potentially dangerous.”
“You did jump more than I expected,” she admitted cheerfully. “What had you so lost in thought?”
“Memories,” he answered briefly.
“Any that you care to share?”
Michael considered. It seemed odd to talk to his wife about the girl he used to love. Even if the girl was no longer among the living, he thought with melancholy.
