of traveling acrobats in town,” Ella suggested. “Maybe we could get them in here to teach us some tumbling.”
“Oh, but I’ve got that problem with my ankle.” He had no problem with his ankle.
“How about a treasure hunt?” Ella proposed excitedly. “Some of the kitchen staff were gossiping about a bag of stolen gold that one of your father’s old valets hid in the tunnels below the castle. We could try to find it.”
“Oh, but I can’t go below ground level. You know what dampness does to my sinuses.” Dampness did nothing to his sinuses.
“Can we go boating on the lake?”
“I can’t swim.” This was true.
Ella huffed. “Frederic, what can we do? I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but I’m bored.”
“We could have a different kind of picnic,” Frederic offered hopefully. “We could do breakfast food for lunch. Croissants, poached eggs. How’s that for shaking things up?”
Ella walked back to her horse and hopped up into the saddle. “Go ahead and order your picnic, Frederic,” she said flatly. “I’m going to ride a bit more while you wait.”
“Okay,” Frederic said, and waved to her. “I’ll stay right here.”
“I’m sure you will. You’re very good at that,” Ella replied. And she rode off.
An hour or so later, Frederic sat out on the palace lawn (well, on a carefully unfolded blanket, actually—he didn’t want to get grass stains on his white pants), waiting for his lunch and his fiancée to arrive. A servant arrived and set down a tray of breakfast delicacies in front of Frederic. “Milord,” the man said, as he bowed and backed away. “There’s a message there for you.”
Frederic saw a folded piece of paper nestled between a bowl of grapefruit slices and a plate of chocolate-chip waffles. He picked up the note, with a sudden sinking feeling about what it might say.
Frederic dropped the letter onto his empty plate. So, he thought, the ball was the most romantic night of her life, huh? Well, that’s not saying much coming from a girl whose typical nights consisted of scraping dead spiders out of cracks in the floorboards. And look how she signed it. “All the best”? That’s how you sign a thank-you note to your dog walker. Frederic had completely lost his appetite.
“Reginald!”
“Am I really that boring?”
Frederic was back in his room, sitting slumped on the edge of his cashmere-covered bed, while Reginald, rigid as ever, stood next to him, awkwardly patting the prince’s head.
“There, there, milord,” the valet answered. “I don’t think the Countess of Bellsworth would call you boring. Do you remember how elated she was when you taught her how to cha-cha? You have many, many admirers, sir.”
“Yes,” Frederic said sorrowfully. “But Ella is apparently not among them.”
“It seems that Lady Ella simply seeks a different kind of life than that which you can provide for her here at the palace,” Reginald said.
“Poached eggs! How stupid can I be?” Frederic smacked himself on the forehead.
“There will be other women, milord.”
“I don’t want any other women. I want Ella. Reginald, what do you think I should do? And be honest with me; don’t just tell me what you think my father would want you to say.”
Reginald considered this request. He’d been caring for Frederic since the prince was a child. And he’d never been more proud of Frederic than when he saw the young man stand up to his overbearing father. Frederic could use someone as feisty and fearless as Ella in his life.
“Don’t let her get away,” Reginald said, dropping his overly stiff posture and speaking in an unusually casual tone.
“Wow,” Frederic gasped. “Did you just get two inches shorter?”
“Never mind me,” Reginald said. “Did you hear what I told you? Get a move on! Go after Ella.”
“But how?” Frederic asked, still bewildered to hear his longtime valet speaking like a regular person.
“We’ll put you on a horse. Charles can show you the basics. You don’t need to be the world’s best rider; you just need to be able to get around. Stick to the roads and you’ll be fine.”
“But—”
“I know you’re scared, Frederic. But here’s my advice: Get over it. Ella wants someone as adventurous as she is. A real hero.”
“Then I’ve got no hope.” Frederic sulked. “I’m a fantastic dresser. My penmanship is top-notch. I’m really good at being a prince, but I’m pretty lousy at being a hero.”
Reginald looked him in the eye. “There’s a bit of courage in you somewhere. Find it. Go catch up with Ella, wherever she is. And just see what happens. She might be impressed enough that you’ve left the palace.”
“There’s no way my father will allow me to do this.”
“We won’t tell him.”
“He’ll notice I’m gone eventually. And when he does, he’ll send his men to retrieve me.”
“Whichever way you go, I’ll send them in the opposite direction.”
“I’m still not sure I should. It’s really dangerous out there.”
“That’s your father talking,” Reginald said. “Look, if you go on this journey, you’re not just doing it for Ella, you’re also doing it for that little boy who once wanted to try everything.”
“You mean my cousin Laurence, who broke his leg trying to fly with those wax wings?”
Reginald looked at him soberly. “Frederic, you don’t really remember your mother, but I do. And I know what she’d want you to do.”
Frederic stood up. “Okay, I’ll go.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Reginald.
Frederic marched out of his room. A second later, he marched back in.
“I should probably change into something more appropriate for the outdoors,” he said.
Reginald put his arm around him. “You don’t own anything more appropriate for the outdoors,” he said with a smile. “Come, let’s get you down to the stables.”
The next morning, after several
