Ella Enchanted - By Gail Carson Levine Page 0,62

Did he suspect me? I forced a sigh. "No, Majesty. I'm terrified of heights."

"Oh." His polite tone had returned.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Like to slide down stair rails?"

"Oh, yes. I used to."

"I wish I could enjoy it. This fear of heights is an affliction."

He nodded, a show of sympathy but not much interest. I was losing him.

"Especially," I added, "as I've grown taller."

He stared. Then he laughed in surprised delight. I was a fool for behaving so much like myself. The clock struck the half hour.

Char started. "Half after eleven! I've neglected my guests." He became the courteous host again. "Refreshments are in the next room, if you care to partake of them." He waved at an archway. Then, "I'll look for you later."

He hoped to see me again! Lela, that is.

I hurried out of the hall. Outside, the sleet had stopped. The pumpkin coach glistened in a line of black carriages. I climbed in. When we arrived at home, the coachman handed me out, remounted, and flicked his whip. The horses started off.

* * *

IN THE morning Hattie told me about her share in the ball, bidding me to sit on a low stool while the family ate their breakfast.

"He danced with me," Hattie said, her teeth stained purple from a blueberry muffin. "And only good manners prevented him from spending the rest of the evening at my side."

"When will you pay me?" Olive asked.

"Must I pay? Aren't you glad you danced with the prince?"

"You said you'd give me three coins for every time he couldn't dance with anyone else because of me. You owe me..." She thought. "Eight coins."

"How many times did he dance with you?" I asked.

"Three times. I asked him four times, but the last time he said he had to see to his other guests."

* * *

I VOWED not to approach Char during the second ball. It was too dangerous.

The evening was clear, but Lucinda provided the coach anyway. My tiara and pendant were pink roses. My gown was a silvery blue with a pale purple petticoat.

Tonight there was no receiving line. I searched for a seat where I'd have a clear view of the dance and where others would have a poor view of me. I found one in a recess partially blocked by a giant fern in a stone pot.

I scrutinized Char's dancing partners, although I knew I had no right to resent a rival. He danced three times with the yellow-haired wench who'd made him laugh the night before. She wore no mask and was lovely. I couldn't leave him to her.

The clock struck the half hour. Soon it would be eleven. I checked my mask, then left my hiding place and stood with the others who observed the dance.

Char saw me. Over the shoulder of his partner, he mouthed, "Wait for me."

I grew roots. An earthquake could not have moved me. The clock struck a quarter before eleven. It struck eleven. If it had struck the end of the world, I'd have stayed as I was.

The final figure ended, and he came to me.

"Will you dance?" he asked. "I looked for you."

Did I have time? I accepted his arm, and we stepped into the dance, a slow sarabande.

"I was here all the while. I watched you."

"What did you see?"

"An excellent host who had little real enjoyment in the ball." Except when he danced with the blond beauty.

"Was it so apparent?"

"It was to me."

He changed the subject. "Will you be here tomorrow? My father has asked me to perform an Ayorthaian song."

"When will you sing?" Before midnight, please.

"Sometime late." He grinned. "If I'm lucky, many of my guests will have gone.

They needn't all hear their future ruler disgrace himself."

"There will be no disgrace, not if you were taught in Ayortha. What will you sing?"

"A homecoming song." He sang in my ear.

"Oak,

granite,

Lilies

by

the

road,

Remember

me?

I

remember

you.

Cloudy

brushing

Clover

hills,

Remember

me?

Sister,

child,

Grown

tall,

Remember

me?

I remember you."

The dance ended, and he stopped. "There's more. I want you to hear it. Will you?"

I resolved to stay late the next night. I'd manage to reach home without Lucinda's gifts, even if I had to swim. "I'll be delighted to, but I must leave now tonight. I'm expected by twelve." How close to midnight was it now? He would think it odd if my jewelry vanished!

"Oh. I'd hoped... I'm sorry. I mustn't..." He bowed.

I curtsied. "Till tomorrow, Majesty."

"One last thing." He caught my hand. "Please call me Char."

28

I RODE home, calling myself a dolt but rejoicing nonetheless. In my room I opened my magic book to see if it would