Page 80 of Slippers and Thorns
The bitter triumph she felt over the altercation waned as she wandered from one end of her room to the other. Stretching her muscles with the familiar exercise would have been a nice change from the travel of the last few days, and the physical exertion might have helped with her crummy mood. She could go later, when Michael wouldn’t be there, but she had a feeling King Phillip would frown upon her presence at the training grounds sans her husband.
A quiet knock drew her attention. “Go away, Michael,” she all but snarled.
“Princess Arabella?” a much more welcome voice called through the door.
She hurried over and opened it. “Charlie. Good morning. What are you doing here?”
“Jackie sent for me,” he explained. “She was on her way to your room and happened to overhear your…discussion with the crown prince.”
“Oh.”
“It is none of my business,” he said carefully, looking down the hall instead of at her, “but I would have expected you to be pleased by his request. And his peace offering.”
Peace offering? She thought back over the encounter. What had he—
The jelly doughnut. Michael knew it was her favorite.
She sighed. “It didn’t feel right. Coming on the heels of…” She trailed off.
“Archery with Princess Helena?” Charlie asked gently.
“Yes,” she confessed unwillingly.
Charlie shifted and looked at his boots. “Henry informed me that Prince Michael began with the sword today. If you were to prepare quickly, I expect you could still join him for the bow. If you wished.”
Even when she wasn’t recruiting them, her guardsmen were still looking out for more than her physical wellbeing. And her maid, apparently. The thought made her smile, even though she still didn’t reallywantto shoot with Michael. “Thank you, Charlie. I’ll be out in a moment.”
Ten minutes later, she strolled into the training yard with Charlie an appropriate two steps behind. Michael was already standing near the archery field. A strung bow sat on a bench next to him while he pulled arrows out of a bin. He viewed Charlie with narrowed eyes as they approached, tracing his route as Charlie nodded briefly and then veered off to join Henry where some of the guards were practicing swordplay.
He transferred his attention to Ella. “Did you need something?”
“I’m sorry for what I said.” She twisted her hands together. “I appreciate that you are trying to fit me into your day. Does the offer still stand?”
He selected another arrow before coughing into his arm. “What was Charles doing with you?”
This again? Ella frowned. “Talking some sense into me and then escorting me through the training yard so that I wouldn’t be wandering through on my own. Shouldn’t both of those things please you?”
Michael shrugged noncommittally. “I didn’t realize a personal guard’s job included talking…” He drifted off, thinking. “Never mind. I take it back.”
“Trust me, I don’t think he enjoyed it,” Ella said wryly.
He offered her a weak smile and gestured to a nearby rack. “Well, are you going to get a bow or not?”
It wasn’t perfect on either side, but it was a start.
If they had been allowed to simply progress from there, Ella thought, everything might have been fine. Michael might have gotten over his jealousy. Ella might have acknowledged the little ways in which he was proving he valued her, even after their return to Hartford. In a few days, she might have finally allowed him that kiss that he’d been trying to get ever since their picnic lunch.
But alas, life was not so kind.
Ella tried not to dwell on the “might have been” as she strode through the castle. She had whined a bit to Edna yesterday, who was sympathetic but had refrained from offering any advice. Ella wasn’t sure if that was because Edna didn’t have any, or if she believed Ella was more in need of a listening ear at the moment than someone to fix things.
Perhaps. Or perhaps Ella was simply so devoid of hope that there was no point in providing advice.
The morning after Michael invited Ella to train with him, she had been humming happily to herself as she dressed in training clothes again. They had actually scheduled to meet this time, and she was looking forward to another half-hour in the oddly-relaxed atmosphere of the archery field. She had heard a commotion outside. Hurrying to a window in the hall with a view of the courtyard, she had seen a lone horsewoman dismounting in the middle of a quickly-accumulating crowd.
The hood of the horsewoman’s cloak covered her face, but Ella had had a sinking feeling that she knew who it was.
What wasshedoing here?
