Just Ella by Margaret Peterson Haddix Read Free Book Online Page B

props than people.
    â€œYou were? Why?”
    â€œOne of my royal duties,” Jed said with a shrug. “I was supposed to be getting experience advising the prince. Of course, all my advice was disregarded. I said that since your entire village knew about you, the king should announce to the world that his son was marrying a commoner, in a show of unity with his people or some such thing. I thought it would be good for the royal image in the kingdom. But it was decided that acknowledging the truth would insult all the kings who’d hoped to marry off their daughters to Charming. As it is, I’m sure all the foreign kings have heard the rumors and are insulted, but they can’t confront the Charmings without calling them liars.”
    For just that instant, I could imagine Jed as a royal adviser. He would give well-reasoned counsel, but he wouldn’tcare enough to be persuasive. Because he’d always be thinking about the refugee camps instead.
    â€œWhy—” I gulped, not quite sure I had the nerve to voice my question. But this might be my only opportunity. “Why is the prince willing to marry a mere commoner?”
    I wanted Jed to look me in the eye and say, “Because he’s fallen head over heels in love with you. Don’t you know? Everybody’s talking about it. Men older than my grandfather say they’ve never seen a prince so deeply in love.”
    But Jed wouldn’t meet my gaze.
    â€œI’d guess it’s because you’re not ugly and wart covered like a Domulian princess,” he mumbled, staring fixedly at the fire.
    There was a silence between us, and I felt as tongue-tied and uncomfortable as I often did with the prince. Then Jed looked up and gave me a solid grin.
    â€œSo. Do you have magical powers or was there a fairy godmother helping you at the ball, the way everyone claims?” he asked.

9
    â€œWhat?” I asked, flabbergasted. It had been one thing to hear Mary and Simprianna talk about magic and fairy godmothers as if such things truly existed. They were uneducated, bound to be superstitious. Simprianna also couldn’t count beyond ten. But Jed was learned. He was practical. He was a man.
    â€œYou’ve not heard the story going around the palace?” he asked. “About how you got to come to the ball when your evil stepmother had locked you in the cellar?”
    â€œLucille isn’t e—,” I started to protest, in an unusual surge of loyalty. Then I remembered Jed must have seen her, in all her frilly purple dressing-gown glory, the day I left. So he knew. “Well, she didn’t lock me in the cellar. She just told me I had to scrub it out by hand before she and Griselda and Corimunde returned.”
    â€œAll right,” Jed said. “Close enough. And you were in tears about it. But then your fairy godmother appeared.”
    I gave him a “You have got to be kidding” look, but let him keep talking.
    â€œYour fairy godmother appeared and waved her magic wand and turned your rags into a ball gown, complete with glass slippers. Then she took a pumpkin and some mice and turned them into a carriage and horses. But she said her magic could last only until midnight—that’s why you were in such a rush to leave at the stroke of twelve that you left one of your glass slippers behind. Which, everyone knows, is how the prince found you.”
    By the time Jed got to the one detail that was true, I was laughing so hard tears were streaming down my face.
    â€œSome . . . someone . . . actually . . . believes that?” I finally sputtered between giggles.
    â€œIt’s more plausible than you as a Domulian princess,” Jed said with a grin. “What’s the truth?”
    â€œWell,” I started slowly, “it wasn’t quite that exciting.”
    And yet, I felt a surge of exhilaration just thinking about that night. Not just because I’d met the prince and fallen in