Ella Enchanted - By Gail Carson Levine Page 0,53

me. They make me long to saddle my horse and ride to Frell, where I would make you explain yourself.

They are playful, interesting, thoughtful, and (occasionally) serious. I'm overjoyed to receive them, yet they bring misery. You say little of your daily life, I have no idea how you occupy yourself. I don't mind; I enjoy guessing at the mystery. But what I really long to know you do not tell either: what you feel, although I've given you hints by the score of my regard.

You like me. You wouldn't waste time or paper on a being you didn't like. But I think I've loved you since we met at your mother's funeral. I want to be with you forever and beyond, but you write that you are too young to marry or too old or too short or too hungry -- until I crumple your letters up in despair, only to smooth them out again for a twelfth reading, hunting for hidden meanings.

Father asks frequently in his letters whether I fancy any Ayorthaian young lady or any in our acquaintance at home. I say no. I suppose I'm confessing another fault: pride. I don't want him to know that I love if my affections are not returned.

You would charm him, and mother too. They would be yours completely. As I am.

What a beautiful bride you'll be, whomever you marry at whatever age. And what a queen if I am the man! Who has your grace? Your expression? Your voice? I could extol your virtues endlessly, but I want you to finish reading and answer me quickly.

Today I cannot write of Ayortha or my doings or anything. I can only post this and wait.

Love (it is such relief to pen the word!), love, love--

Char

25

I GAPED at the page. Read it again. And gaped again. In my daze, I noticed that my sooty thumb had left marks on the letter.

He loved me. He'd loved me as long as he'd known me!

I hadn't loved him as long, perhaps, but now I loved him equally well, or better. I loved his laugh, his handwriting, his steady gaze, his honorableness, his freckles, his appreciation of my jokes, his hands, his determination that I should know the worst of him. And, most of all, shameful though it might be, I loved his love for me.

Placing my candle carefully, I danced and whirled around my room.

I could marry Char and live with my love.

I could leave Mum Olga and her spawn.

No one would give me orders.

This was an unexpected solution to my trouble. Lucinda would have hated for me to evade my obedience by rising above it. And even Mandy would be surprised by this method of ending the curse.

I extracted paper from the hiding place at the bottom of my wardrobe. My love shouldn't have an extra moment of impatience.

However, my stub of a candle flickered out as soon as I wrote, "Dearest Char, darling Char, beloved Char." I ordered my mind to wake me the instant there was light enough to write by. Then I fell asleep composing my letter.

In the middle of the night, I awoke, my happiness draining away. I wouldn't escape the curse by marrying Char. I would be more cursed than ever. And he would be cursed too.

Suppose my obedience were discovered... My stepfamily knew and would take advantage to improve their rank and fortune. But that would be the least of it -

- an enemy of Kyrria could put the curse to more awful use. In unscrupulous hands I would be a powerful tool. I could be made to reveal state secrets. I could even be forced to kill Char!

And I had no doubt my secret would be discovered. In court there would be eyes and ears that would be alive to such signs. I'd never manage to fool them all.

What could I do? Mother had ordered me not to tell anyone about the curse, but Mandy could countermand the order so I'd be able to tell Char. Then he could take precautions.

I'd tell him. I'd wake Mandy now. I sat up in bed, happy again. And sank back.

What precautions could Char take? He could prevent anyone from speaking to me or writing to me. He could shut me away. That might do, but he would have to bring me my meals, the flax to spin my clothes, the wood for my fire. It would be a burden similar to one of Lucinda's wedding gifts. And what would Kyrria