The world looked like it fell from under her, and all she could see was black. Her stomach fell down to her feet, heart beating rapidly, and her gut felt hollow, as if she were dying. Ella heard a faint scream. Though it was from a distance, she knew it was her cry of fear. And she landed into something cushioned.
Panting, Ella felt Blake’s body heat as he held her in his arms, allowing his right to lightly stroke her hair while holding her head into the soft part of his neck.
She felt her heart pounding wildly against her chest, her lungs refusing to cooperate with her need of oxygen. Her vision spun like she was on a roller coaster, so she closed her eyes, turning her head into Blake’s neck.
Faintly, she could feel herself shivering, like she was in one of those seizers, but she knew she wasn’t.
Ella felt Blake gently step out of the burning building, holding Ella to him as he walked over to a tree that rested in a field. Clearly, it was untouched by the fire. The grass reflected the moonlight off the green stems.
He held her in his lap, still stroking her hair.
She didn’t even realize it, but she was crying. Maybe the moment she fell, she started, but it didn’t faze him in the slightest. If he were her stepsister, Olivia, or her stepmother, Ivy, then he would call her a weakling, cry baby. To go to her room so they couldn’t see the crocodile tears.
But Blake was different. He was gently caressing her hair down to her neck. And he was saying something... Ella couldn’t hear straight with her blood roaring through her ears.
After every brush of his hand, her hearing came back in pieces. It took a minute before she could hear his words.
“It’s okay,” Blake murmured. “You’re safe. You’re okay. I promise you’re safe now.”
Ella closed her eyes and turned her head into his neck, feeling her body calm to silence, and she relaxed in his arms.
After a moment of listening to his whispers of assurance, feeling his gentle strokes, and letting his body heat into her cold skin, Ella’s lashes fluttered open at a realization.
Oh, God... Oh, no... She’s letting the Prince hold her... and she’s late for her midnight chores... No, no, no... This couldn’t be happening...
No! No! She didn’t deserve this!
She tried to get out of his arms, but he just held her tighter.
“Princess, stop,” he begged. “I want to help. You’re not letting me help.”
“I have to go home...” Ella admitted, attempting to pry his arm off her waist, but he held her tighter. “I have to be home soon or....” She rephrased, “I have to get home.”
“You're shaking like crazy,” Blake noticed as she squirmed in his arms. “I thought I was helping....”
“You were.” Ella slapped a hand around her mouth. God, why did she have to say that? Why did she have to tell him that? Now it was going to be harder for him to let her go!
“Then... why do you want to go?”
“I just have to,” she said. “My family will be mad so... And they aren’t fond of me being out with boys anyway.”
“But... I’m the Prince....”
Ella flinched at the word. “I know, Prince Blake... but... You... you don’t understand....”
“What don’t I understand?” he wondered, making Ella freeze.
A couple moments of silence, then she whispered, “It’s too hard to explain....”
“Well...” he responded. “Can you try, at least?”
Ella was quiet for a minute. “No... I can’t....”
“Why are you wearing that tattered dress?” Blake questioned. “Aren’t your parents rich, Princess? Your father and mother, Jack and Margot Magaroth?”
Ella cast a confused look at him. “How did you know my last name?”
“Because your famous in the books, Princess,” Blake stated. “Jack and Margot were the most famous rich people when they were together. I heard they were the kindest people in the entire town. And that’s hard to be, since everyone’s nice.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question....”
“Princess,” Blake whispered soothingly, a hint of amusement to his tone, “I’m still answering. Patience.”
“Sorry,” Ella blurted out passively.
“It’s okay.” Blake smiled softly. “As I was saying, Jack and Margot were famous back then, and still are now. So, Ella, when you were born, the news spread across the entire nation. ‘New child to the Margot family,’ was what all the flyers said. And they mentioned your name as well, ‘Isabella Magaroth.’”
“Though,” Blake continued, “your mother died giving birth to you, and news of your father went quiet.” Ella tensed at Blake’s words. “The news of you went silent, as well. Everyone in town just thought you moved away. No one thought to check your house for residents.”
Oh, God... Blake had no idea who lived in that house... How one of Ella’s stepsisters wanted to become a Princess with Blake... How Ella would be tortured if any of them found out she was with “their Prince” right now.
She noticed Blake tense a little, as if he read her mind, but when she looked at his face, he had no sign of disgust or fear in his expression. It actually looked blank. He was really good at hiding how he felt.
But there was something... Something in his green eyes that was flaming.
And... another thing... It was the way he looked at her. As if he had this sign of sympathy or some other feeling... Almost like he knew what was going on... but how could he?
Ella had only known this boy for a day, how could he be so... understanding when he didn’t even know who she really was?
That she was a maid... that her father was dead... that her stepmother treats her like Ella committed terrible crimes every day.
Ella once couldn’t cook for her family... because she was sick... and Ivy turned the stove on high, and forcefully placed Ella’s hand on it.
The burning was beyond imaginable...
Blake’s eyes darkened when she thought that. Almost as if he could’ve read her mind. And he wiped a tear that slipped down her cheek away with his thumb, and his hand trailed down to her right hand.
The one that Ivy burned...
He tried opening the palm, and didn’t speak a single word when she resisted. She didn’t want him to see the burn mark that her stepmother left. The one that was shaped like a starburst.
When his thumb brushed the palm, Ella tried to pull her hand back, but Blake tightened his grip on her, though he didn’t hurt her. He was gentle with her, and she didn’t know how that was possible.
Did... he read her mind...? Is that why when she had that memory, he grabbed the exact hand that she was thinking about? Ella was going crazy... right...?
How was this possible?
“Prince Blake,” Ella whispered, trying to get the concern out of her tone, “how did you know it was me...? There are a lot of Isabella’s around here, aren’t there?”
He was silent for a minute, tracing around the edges of the scar on her hand. Ella resisted shivering at his touch. “I could tell by your mother’s features,” he whispered, gaze aiming at her hand. “Red hair, blue eyes, brown freckles.”
“You could just tell by the way I look?” Ella said suspiciously. “But... how did you know my mother? She died when I was born. I’m sixteen, and you look one to two years older than me... How could you remember?”
Blake smiled slightly, but his eyes were still dark. “I’m not as old as I look.”
What the heck was that supposed to mean?
Ella didn’t have time to play games, and she was getting too attached to Blake while he kept on doing this. “Look...” she tried pulling her hand away, but he wouldn’t let go, “I have to go... Please, let go of me.”
“Ella, stop. I know what you’re doing, and I’m not going to give into your self-hatred.”
What?
“Prince Blake, let go….”
“Ella.”
“Please… I have to go… You don’t understand… I have to go!”
“Princess… Please… you just jumped off a Goddamn thirty foot high banister! From a house fire! Give yourself a Goddamn break!”
“Prince—” She squirmed harder, pushing him away.
“I know you want help,” he stated. “I know you need someone to trust, Princess. I can be that someone….”
“You don’t know,” Ella said, voice shaking. “You don’t know!”
“Sweetheart… let me help… You’re clearly scared.”
“Please… let go….”
He breathed out an angry sigh, making tears build in her eyes… but she knew she deserved it… “If you leave now, I’m going to check on you later tonight,” Blake stated, his dark expression looking serious in the shadows of the crescent moon.
He didn’t know where she lived… and she wasn’t going to tell him.
“Yes, okay,” Ella said. “I’ll probably be in the field.”
And he let her go, Ella feeling his green eyes burning into the skin of her back. She didn’t deserve him… Olivia was the one for him… So she was going to stay back… no matter how much it hurt…
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