Ella looks flushed. She seems torn between her two mistresses, her head whips from one to the other as she tries to calm the one and reinvigorate the other.
I kneel at her side and ask what I can do to help her.
"Do something for Muriel," she nods her head at the screaming girl as a tear runs down her cheek. "Please. I can't think with her like that. I don't know what's wrong. I don't know what to do."
I place my hand on hers to steady her.
"She'll be okay. Your physician will come."
I call to Alfred, but he doesn't respond. He just stares at the girl on the floor. I stand in front of his face and shake his shoulders a little. His eyes quiver and he finally focuses on me. "Huh?" He says, dazed.
"Alfred, are you okay?" I'm this crisis I know I shouldn't find humor, but I can't help myself. Alfred can handle crowds of hundred of people. He can tell my father that he is wrong. He can wrestle a bear away from his friends. But put him in front of a sick girl and the man is useless.
He shakes himself a little and nods and I know my friend is back.
"What? What do I..." He doesn't finish his question, but closes his eyes, as if trying to collect himself.
Poor Alfred. "Take Lady Muriel away. Find a housekeeper or a maid to care for her. Then find the Duke. Thank him for his services and let him know he has done well. He need not continue his search any longer."
His eyes snap open. "It's her?"
I grin at him in spite of myself. "It's her."
Alfred let's out a cry of delight that startles everyone in the room. Even Lady Muriel stops screaming and looks at Alfred with horror.
He blushes scarlet and bows to Ella. "Miss Ella, I'm so glad to have met you," she nods a little uncertainly as a small smile creeps across her beautiful face. She is so lovely.
Alfred takes the lady away and the room grows still. Bellamy excuses himself. "I must have some fresh linens should the physician require them," he says before disappearing with a wink at me.
The only sound is the labored breathing of the girl on the floor.
"What do we do now?" I ask Ella. I am so glad to finally know her name.
"We wait," she replies. She looks at her mistress with such concern and care, I imagine they must be great friends.
I sit beside her on the floor and watch he stroke her mistress's hair. "You must love her a great deal," I say. "How long have you been in her service?" I want to know everything I can about her.
She doesn't answer right away, which surprises me. Her hand has stilled on the lady's hair.
"I'm sorry," I say a bit confused. "I don't mean to pry. You don't have to answer."
"Since Sir Eccles disappeared," she whispers.
I remember when that happened. Sir Eccles was one of the most learned men in the country. Suddenly her knowledge makes sense. He would have taught his servants to read and write. He believed in sharing knowledge. Perhaps his wife had shared his values and taught Ella when she joined the household.
"That was three years ago, wasn't it?" I ask.
"Nearly four." Her eyes are shining. Tears? Can she have met him before he disappeared? "Has the family heard what happened to him? I know my father sent a search party initially, but he could not spare his men for long."
"No," she says simply. "We never heard anything."
I had been one of the party. We had searched for two weeks before being called back to defend against a southern invasion. It was my first time leading the guard and I'd felt like a failure when we returned to the estate to tell his wife we had been unsuccessful. She took the news well, but the little girl with her, I suppose now that must have been Lady Denise, had sobbed uncontrollably. I wanted to go right back out again and find him. I thought I couldn't be a good Prince to a country if I couldn't find one man. But Alfred's father, my second that day, had convinced me we must follow the king's orders and return to the palace.
"She must miss him terribly," I say at length, indicating her mistress.
She scoffs and I am taken by surprise. "Hardly," she says. For the first time, I hear what I think may be anger in her voice. "She never cared about him. She never really got the chance. But I don't think Muriel or her mother would have allowed her to."
Not allowed her to? How could she not care for her own father? She can't have been that young when he disappeared. I try to figure this out in my head, but I just can't figure out what she means.
"I don't understand," I finally admit. "Was she sent away to school? I spent most of my childhood visiting foreign courts, but I love my father deeply. I will miss him terribly when he's gone."
"When he's gone?" She looks up at me quickly and I know she heard the catch in my voice.
I consider carrying on the pretense that most of the kingdom believes, but if she is to be my wife, and I so hope she will accept, than I cannot lie to her. "Within the year, we expect."
This time she places her hand in mine and I never want her to let go. It is the first time I've admitted out loud that my father is dying. Why it makes a difference I don't know but I suddenly feel the weight of the kingdom on my shoulders like I never have before.
"I am so sorry," she says as if she could feel my loss.
Her mistress stirred beneath her touch and Ella changed her warm cloth for a fresh, cool one.
"I still have time," I say, pushing back the fears and sadness that had come up so suddenly. "But if you didn't start working at Sir Eccles' estate until after he disappeared, and she doesn't miss him, why does talking about him make you sad? Did your father work for him? I know he was a great scholar and you have admitted your love of learning to me. Did he teach you as a child?" She laughs a sad little laugh and I realize I have asked too many questions without letting her answer.
"I'm sorry," I laugh with her. "I ramble on and on when I'm nervous. I guess I'm a little worried I'll turn around and you'll be gone again." I laugh nervously at myself, hoping she doesn't think I'm a lunatic.
"The physician comes!" The Viscount bounced through the door and Ella takes her hand away from me. I know she must tend to her mistress but I silently curse the awkward timing.
"Come," I wave the old man in and move aside to give him space. He pushes past me and feels the girl's cheeks.
"Fever," he mutters to himself. "Rapid pulse. Labored breathing. Infection. But where? She just fainted? Did she eat or drink anything? She has had any recent cuts, Ella?"
She shakes her head. "Not that I've seen in the last few days. She seemed fine this morning. A little tired from dancing so late last night, but nothing out of the ordinary. When we arrived here she was quiet and pale and then she lost consciousness."
He pokes her throat and stomach and I begin to feel a little uncomfortable so I step away from the physician and take the Viscount's vacated seat by the lady's feet.
Cairos continues drilling Ella for information. "When was the last time she ate? What did she have?"
"I suppose sometime last night at the ball. She may have had something after I left. I don't know. I wasn't supposed to be there, so when Muriel unmasked the prince..."
I start up, realization hitting me. "Muriel? It was Lady Muriel last night who chased you away. Lady Muriel..." I can't finish as I drop to my knees and pull on the lady's shoe. The leather is wet to the touch and I pull my hand away. Red. I rip at the lacing but my fingers are shaking with fear and rage. This is exactly why I didn't want anyone knowing I was connected with the glass slipper.
"Your Highness, what is it?" I hear the physician ask.
"Her foot. How does contraption work?" I throw my hands in the air in frustration and Ella comes to my aid.
"Let me," she says, gently taking the laces from my hands and unwinding the long strings.
"Bellamy," I say, looking at the grim Viscount, "I think your study has been compromised."
Ella's fingers stop and she looks up at me with understanding. "Oh no." She says simply. Her fingers fly and she rips the boot from her lady's foot. "Oh Denise. No." She pulls at the black stocking and I can hear the drip as the soaked garment is flung aside.
Her foot is wrapped in a thin red bandage. It is not how a foot should look. I close my eyes against the grotesque sight in front of me and I gladly take the physcian's orders to fetch hot water and fresh bandages. As I leave the room I hear Ella whisper. "Oh, Madame. What have you done?"
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