It was two days after dinner with the Baron before Ella’s swollen and black eye finally started to open. Just the sight of Ella pushed Lady Tremaine into a rage, knowing that the Baron preferred young blondes to the woman desperate to be on his arm. It didn’t matter that Ella hadn’t returned his advances; it was her mere existence that drove Lady Tremaine to the brink.
Ella hadn’t returned Henry’s texts since the dinner, too lost in her own despair to conjure up even a passable representation of cordial conversation. She didn’t want him anywhere near that humiliation. If anything, it sealed her decision that he was best kept far away from the mess she was mired in. She missed him terribly, but knew it was for the best. He had a kingdom to think about, and shouldn’t be wasting his time holding together a sinking ship. She ached to return his texts, reading them over before bed, but remained firm in her silence.
Ella kept out of sight as much as she could, making sure everything was spotless and in order, so as not to give Lady Tremaine any additional ammunition that might fuel her hatred.
When the doorbell rang that evening, neither Drizella, Anastasia or Lady Tremaine moved to answer it. Ella put her tools away from her bout with the rickety garbage disposal, dried her hands on the apron she’d made from a worn men’s flannel, and moved to the front door to greet who she was certain would be a solicitor, or one of Drizella’s dates.
The gasp that flew from her lips wasn’t telling; anyone who opened their door to find the Prince of Avondale standing on their porch would likely have the same reaction. “No!” she whispered, pain slashing across her bruised features. She didn’t want him to see her like this—so clearly in need of help she couldn’t give herself.
Henry gaped at her black eye in horror, speechless.
It was the man next to him who finally spoke, introducing himself with a calm demeanor that had been bred into him from birth. “Good evening, Miss. I’m Remus Johnstone. I’m looking for Lady Tremaine. Is she available?”
Ella couldn’t find the right words—or any words, for that matter. She stood in the doorway, stunned and ashamed, begging Henry with her one good eye not to give their secret relationship away.
Remus stood with perfect posture in gray slacks, a lavender shirt, and a blue tie that had a streak of canary yellow across it. His knowing gaze seemed to understand the conundrum, clapping Henry on the shoulder to remind him that he couldn’t behave like a man in love. He had to conduct himself like a prince, which meant he couldn’t throw Ella over his shoulder and run her far, far away from the people who tormented her.
It was Drizella who popped her head into the foyer, her penciled eyebrows raised. “Oh! Mom! Mom! It’s Prince Henry!” Her comical shouts died when she remembered her mission to seduce the prince, and calmed her tone to a low, coy come-hither. “Hello, your majesty. Won’t you come in? Don’t mind our servant. She’s slow in the head. We’re very gracious to have hired someone like her.”
Ella closed her eye, wishing that, of all people, Henry hadn’t heard her stepsister run her down so cruelly. “Please come in.”
“Go ahead, Remus. I need a minute.”
Remus did Henry a solid and addressed Drizella, taking the air of authority, since he was the oldest person in earshot. Ella guessed him to be in his mid-thirties, but there was a timelessness to Remus Johnstone that made him seem boyish, and yet simultaneously ancient. His black hair was neatly fashioned, and his posture upright and polished. “The prince has a few packages in the car. Might he borrow your servant to help him carry them in?”
“I can help him!” Drizella offered eagerly, standing up on her toes with wide eyes as Anastasia came bounding in, munching on a donut.
Remus smiled, and the look was so genuine that Ella almost bought the words that flowed seamlessly from his lips. “I wouldn’t dream of asking a fine lady like yourself to do something as common as unloading a car. Besides, I’m here to speak to you two and your mother, if she has a moment. It’s concerning important matters having to do with Avondale’s future.”
Drizella thrilled at the attention, forgetting all about Ella, who slipped out onto the porch with Henry. Anastasia fetched her mother, and the three fawned over every word Remus said as they dragged him into the dining room.
Henry balked at Ella on the porch, speechless in his shock.
“Your car,” she reminded him. “I’m supposed to be helping you bring in packages.”
“What happened to your eye?”
“You shouldn’t have come here!” she whispered at him as she walked towards his town car.
“It’s been two days since I heard from you. You can’t blame a guy for wanting to know why he’s being blown off. Now I can see I shouldn’t have waited so long. Who hit you?”
Ella sized up his clenched fists and shook her head. She didn’t mean for her next words to come out like the crack of a whip, but they bit at him for getting too near her open wounds. “None of your business.” She covered her mouth, instantly ashamed for being so acerbic when he was only trying to be compassionate.
Henry reared back as if she’d slapped him. “Excuse me?”
She touched her forehead, overwhelmed at the mere sight of him on her property. “If I tell you, you’ll confront the person, and it’ll just make things harder for me. I told you, I’m stuck in this. I don’t want to take you down with me.”
Henry reached out for her hand, but Ella shirked away. “She’ll see!”
“Who? Lady Tremaine?”
Ella nodded and opened the back door of his car, looking around for packages, but seeing none. “She doesn’t like it when men pay attention to me.”
“Ella, I swear to you. Tell me who hit you, or I’ll make a big scene right here, right now,” Henry’s voice rose ominously, “and the whole neighborhood will know how I feel about you.”
Ella ducked and then looked around fearfully. “Would you keep your voice down?”
“Why? I’ve only been keeping our connection quiet because that’s what you said had to be done. I want to call up Royal Watch and let them know I’m officially off the market. I want to bring you home to meet my father. The whole nine yards of relational bliss—I want that with you.”
Ella swooned and simultaneously crashed, her face falling. Emotion caught in her throat but she refused to cry. “You can’t say things like that to me!”
“Why not?”
“Because I want to hear them too badly! You’re trying to make me believe things can be different, but I know that they can’t. You’re giving me hope, Henry. It’s the nicest and cruelest thing you could do to me.”
Henry popped the trunk, so they could keep their fight away from Lady Tremaine’s prying eyes. He reached into the trunk when she moved to pick up the separate bouquets of four dozen white lilies, four dozen blue carnations, four dozen pink roses, and four dozen yellow daises. “I’ll get those. I’m not going to make you carry in your own flowers.”
Ella froze, taking in the massive bouquets with amazement and fear. “My own flowers? What do you mean?”
Henry ran his hand through his hair and blew out a nervous breath. “It’s been four weeks since we met. You stopped returning my texts, so I came here to win you back.” He motioned to the mass of flowers. “I didn’t know which was your favorite, so I tried a variety.”
Ella’s mouth fell open as she took in the gesture that was too grand for words. “I… You… These are for me?”
“Always and only you.” Henry grimaced, looking at the flowers uncertainly. “Too much? Rory said it was romantic, but Remus thought it might scare you. I honestly can’t tell which one you’ll land on, judging by your face. Pretend I only bought you one bouquet if it’s too much.”
There were plenty of reasons to be afraid, but Ella opted for a moment of wonder. If it was only a moment she would be allowed before reality overtook the beauty of the petals beckoning her to stroke them, then she wouldn’t waste that slice of time on anxiety.
She leaned in, filling her lungs with Henry’s affection, which she was learning was always a little bit too much, but somehow exactly what she craved. “These are incredible. No man’s ever bought me flowers before, except for my father. That you did this?” She inhaled again, and felt transported to a world that either hadn’t existed, or might someday exist if life decided it knew how to be kind. “Henry, you’re making it hard to resist you.”
Henry’s mouth drew to the side in dismay. “Only hard? Drat. I was trying to make it impossible for you to turn me away. They had tulips there, too, but not four dozen. Would you be completely swept if I’d thrown in some tulips?”
Ella managed the first hint of a smile she’d accessed in days. “How do you do it?”
“What?”
“Make me believe I have choices. Make me trust it won’t all crumble the second I smile.” Under cover of the trunk, she reached down and linked her little finger around his in the midst of the petals, brushing her knuckles to the silk that felt decadent. For the span of a secret, she willed that luxury of softness to transfer into her. She prayed it would stay with her long after Henry would have to take the flowers away. Her lashes swept shut. “You shouldn’t do things like this. I nearly brought the roof down on our heads when we almost kissed.”
Henry ran his thumb over the back of her hand, seducing her in the quiet privacy of the driveway. “That’s the other reason I’m here, and why I brought a chaperone. Remus Johnstone is the best tutor in Avondale. He’s worked with Rory both before and after she found her Pulse, and never gave up on her. He was my tutor until I graduated, and I still call him up when something’s troubling me. He was Adam’s tutor, too. Now he works with Cordray. Whatever is unbalanced with your Pulse, he can even it out, I’m certain.”
Too many responses flicked through Ella’s mind. “Lady Tremaine would never allow it. She doesn’t like for me to use any magic at all. Not to mention I could never afford Remus Johnstone. And even if I could, he’s on Lady Tremaine’s marriage list. If he looks at me like I’m not a gob of gum on the bottom of his shoe, she’ll beat me something awful!”
Henry stiffened. “So it was her who hit you?”
Ella shrank. “Remus can’t show me preferential treatment, Henry. It’ll cause me more damage than I can handle.” She pointed to her eye, letting her secrets spill out so Henry could understand the breadth of the fallout. “This shiner was because the Baron made a pass at me in front of her. Please don’t let Remus be nice to me!” She glanced at the flowers now as if they pained her with their beauty. “And you can’t give me these, either. It’s enough that I got to see them, but I can’t have them in the house or Lady Tremaine will…” Ella gulped and shook her head frantically. “Please, Henry. This is the most beautiful thing any guy has ever done for me. Don’t let it end in a broken rib!”
Henry’s nostrils flared as his hand stiffened against hers, tightening into a fist. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Drizella’s high-pitched lilt that always came out a whine when she was trying to be charming. “Oh, Prince Henry! Mother sent me out to see if you needed an extra set of hands. Poor Ella’s just such a klutz. Fell down the other day and conked herself in the eye with the iron! Can you believe it?”
“Always and only you. Please, Henry,” Ella whispered, retracting her hand and stepping back just before Drizella rounded to greet the prince with her Cheshire-like glee.
Henry couldn’t shift into prince-mode, but continued to stew, his jaw taut and ready to snap. “I’m trying to decide what I need to bring inside.”
Drizella glanced in the trunk and gasped, her hand flying over her chest. “Are those for me?” she screeched, rising onto her toes. In the span of the few minutes that she’d been waiting for the prince to return, she’d braided her hair, thrown on the shortest clubbing dress she owned, and applied a fresh coat of hot pink lipstick to match her eyeshadow.
“Wait! I’ll help!” Anastasia called from the front porch. She tuttled down the steps and ran to her sister’s side, bumping her out of the way so she could be closer to the prince. She had exchanged her top for a neon green blouse that was two sizes too small. “Oh! Are those for me?”
Henry was still numb, and unable to come up with a lie quick enough to keep the sisters from grabbing at the bouquets.
Ella knew she should’ve kept quiet, but she couldn’t bear the most beautiful gift she’d ever received being touted around by her wicked stepsisters. “Actually, Prince Henry was just saying that he was going to donate them to a local hospital, but he wasn’t sure where the nearest one was.”
Anastasia deflated. “Oh, charity work? Pass.”
Drizella played the cards she’d been dealt on the fly. “Oh, I adore charity work. I give out gifts all the time. This is right up my alley. Do you need help delivering them?”
Henry finally came to himself, though his body language was stiff. “No, thank you. I need… I think I need to sit down,” he admitted.
Drizella and Anastasia each took an arm and guided him into the house, fawning over him every step of the way. It was the most helpful they’d ever been, and it was all done with painfully cheery grins and hearty laughter at whatever anecdote they thought up along the way.
Ella walked behind him with her head down, trying to burn the image of her stepsisters on his arms out of her mind.