"He's an ass," a voice said.

It had been a few days since the fight between Edmund and me over the photograph and he'd been pointedly ignoring me since then. We ate our meals separately. We never spent time in the same room. If by chance we did pass by each other in a corridor, he'd look right past me, as if I didn't exist at all. I wasn't sure how much longer I could take it. It was bad enough that my husband was ignoring me, but it was even worse that it was happening while I was pregnant. We should have been happier than ever. It shouldn't have been like this.

I glanced up from my book. To my surprise, it was Jane who was standing there, peering down at me, looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Excuse me?" I asked. I couldn't even remember what she had said; I was too shocked that she was even talking to me.

"Edmund," she clarified. "He's an ass."

I marked the page in my book and set it aside. "What makes you say that?" I asked.

She looked at me as if she thought I was particularly stupid. "Gee, I don't know," she said. "Perhaps the fact that he's accused you of carrying out an affair with another man and possibly being pregnant with that man's baby, and is now ignoring you completely, when in fact he is the one that is the cheater."

"So you don't believe that I'm having an affair with Henry?" I asked, shocked that I had her support on this.

"No, I don't," she replied, shaking her head. "But even if you were, it wouldn't make him less of an ass."

"That's nice of you to say," I said. "But, I must say that I'm a bit confused right now. Why exactly are you being nice to me?"

She sighed, sitting down beside me. Leaning back, she gazed up at the ceiling. "I wasn't always such a bitch, Ella. Did you know that?"

"Er, not really," I responded, puzzled. "I haven't really known you long."

"I grew up in the country," she continued, as if I hadn't said a word. "My father owns acres and acres of land. Many tenants rent from him. I used to spend my days playing out in the fields with those tenants' children. I had a wonderful childhood, Ella. I adored that little castle in the country that I was raised in."

I didn't respond. Not that I would have been able to even had I wanted to. I assumed that she was going somewhere with this story, but at the moment I didn't have a clue where.

"There was a boy," she whispered. "The son of a farmer. I've known him all my life. Last year, he professed his love for me. He told me that'd he wanted to marry me. But, Ella, I was only fifteen. And I got scared. I rejected him. Besides, I knew that my parents would never approve. He's a farmer. That's all he'll ever be. And I don't know why, but I got angry at him. I was mad that he even confessed his love to me. Why would he even put me in that position? Why would he ask me to choose between him and my family? My anger overtook me and I said so many awful things. I told him that I didn't harbor any romantic feelings for him. I told him that I'd never marry someone like him. How could I, after all, love a common farmer? I ripped out his heart, but in the process I ripped out my own as well. I think I must have left it there with him. Because I certainly don't have it anymore. I've been an awful person ever since I've arrived." She paused, closing her eyes. "I…I couldn't stay there. I told my father that I wanted to come here, figuring that I could find myself rich husband and forget about Noah. But, as you very well know, I messed up. I ruined everything when I slept with Edmund. I remember everything you said to me, Ella. All those things about how'd I'd ruined myself and how no one would marry me now." She hung her head. "I doubt even Noah would be willing to have me have his wife after what I did."

"You don't know that," I said. "If he truly loves you, he won't care."

She let out a short, humorless laugh. "Perhaps," she said.

"Are you happy here?" I asked.

She looked at me strangely. "Do I seem happy to you?"

"Then return home," I replied. "Go to Noah. See if he'll still have you. Maybe you can still have your happy ending."

She smiled slightly. "I think that I might. Actually I've been considering it for a while now." She paused. "You're not just suggesting this to get rid of me, are you?"

"No, of course not!" I exclaimed with faux indignation. "How could you think that?"

She didn't get a chance to reply. The door to my sitting room creaked open and in stepped Edmund. As if this day wasn't strange enough…

"Ella," he said, making his way across the room and coming to a stop in front of me.

"Edmund," I replied, matching his dismissive tone. "Ever heard of knocking?"

He ignored my question. "I need to talk to you about something." He turned to look at Jane. "Could you excuse us for a moment?"

She started to stand, but I tugged her back down. "I don't want to her to leave," I said, staring at him defiantly.

"Fine," he replied coolly. "It's not particularly important anyway. I just wanted to inform you that preparations are being made for the ball to celebrate the kingdom's five hundredth anniversary in a few months. Is there anyone in particular you want me to ensure is on the guest list?"

I shook my head. It wasn't like I was drowning in a sea of friends. Apart from Henry and Lydia at the bookshop and Anna and James here at the castle, there weren't too many people I was very close with. I certainly wasn't going to ask that Henry be invited to the ball and James and Anna were, of course, already going to be there.

"No one?" Edmund asked. "No one special that you want to share a romantic dance with?" His tone was mocking and I wished he would go back to ignoring me.

"Oh, for God's sake," I heard Jane mutter beside me. I glanced over to see her rolling her eyes.

Edmund turned to look at her. "Is there something you wanted to say, Jane?" he snapped.

"Not at all, Your Majesty," she replied in a falsely sweet tone. "Except that maybe you should lay off of your pregnant wife. Just an idea."

He glared at her, before redirecting his attention to me, his gaze slipping down to my still flat stomach for a moment. It occurred to me that it was strange that he was the one asking me about who I wanted to invite to the ball. He was the king, after all. It wasn't really in his job description to worry about little things like guest lists. Did the fact that he was here mean that he actually wanted to talk to me? I wasn't sure.

"Well, okay then," he said. "I'll leave the guest list as it is."

"Fine," I said. "Sounds lovely."

"I'm glad," he replied shortly.

Beside me, Jane muttered something I couldn't quite catch under her breath. Edmund shot her another dirty look. "Try to keep your ladies-in-waiting under control, would you?" he told me, before turning to leave. The door slammed shut behind him and then, once again, it was just Jane and me.

We sat in silence for a moment, Edmund's angry words hanging in the air above our heads. Finally, Jane spoke. "What book are you reading?" she asked me, in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

"Some silly romance novel," I replied. "My friend Sarah recommended it to me in the last letter she wrote. I knew it would be ridiculous, but I figured I'd humor her."

"Sarah," Jane repeated. "That name sounds familiar."

"You were basically her replacement," I said. "She left to get married."

"What's she like?" Jane asked, sounding genuinely interested.

I smiled, turning to face her. "Well, she looks a lot like you actually…"

Ever since the incriminating photograph of Henry and me had been taken, going to his shop to work was a strange experience. He was exceptionally nice to me. There was no more bickering or sarcastic comments. He treated me like I was something fragile, something he needed to care for and protect. And he seemed to use any excuse he could to touch me. A hug here and a hand squeeze there. He was always brushing a lock of hair out of my face or placing his hand in the small of my back when we were walking together.

Photographers were constantly showing up at the shop, trying to catch us in more compromising positions. There had been a few more photographs published, blurry ones taken through the window. None of them were particularly interesting or scandalous. We were usually just talking. But people saw want they wanted to see. According to them, we were always standing too close or holding hands behind our backs. We were the talk of the town. People would speak in hushed tones when I passed by and I'd hear them say horrible things. Vicious rumors about me spread like wildfire. Soon I was linked to many more men than just Edmund and Henry. At some point or another I think every man in town was thought to be the father of my baby. It was awful. Sometimes I truly considered staying in the castle and never leaving. But then I would remember that it was no better there. It was filled with people, but I usually felt utterly alone. James and Anna were much too caught up in each other. Edmund was still ignoring me completely. Jane had left to return to her farm boy. And the servants gossiped just as much as the townspeople. So I continued to work at the shop. Because, there at least, I was met with a warm, friendly face every time I walked in the door.

Business was booming. All the rumors surrounding Henry and I seemed to have caused every person in the kingdom to stop by the shop at least once out of curiosity. And using his unabashed charm, Henry was able to get almost all of them, most notably the females, to buy at least one book while they were there.

"I'm getting fat," I groaned one morning, nearly three months after the photograph was taken, as I entered the shop. Henry glanced up from where he stood behind the counter.

"Ella, need I remind you that you're pregnant?" he asked. "Besides, if you have gained any weight, it's hardly noticeable right now."

"Well, it will be soon enough," I replied.

A large crack of thunder startled me. I glanced out the window. Though it had only been lightly drizzling a moment before when I had arrived at the shop, it had since begun to pour heavily.

"It looks like it could get pretty bad," Henry muttered, appearing at my side. "I doubt we'll have much business today."

He was right. The storm continued to rage over the next several hours. After getting things in order around the shop, we found ourselves lounging on the couch in the back room with nothing to do.

"I'm so tired," Henry murmured with a yawn.

"That's because you hardly sleep," I replied. "You're always so caught up in your work. It can't possibly be healthy."

He slid down sideways, so that his head was resting in my lap. I froze, unsure of how to respond. I knew that our relationship was an odd one. There was a part of me that was aware that we were a bit too touchy, a bit too flirty, and that we should probably stop. And yet a bigger part of me didn't care. And it was that part of me that seized control in that moment. So I merely lifted my hand, running my fingers though his soft blonde hair. He stared up at me with those green eyes of his, looking as impossibly handsome as always. He smiled contentedly. "This feels right," he whispered, yawning again. He closed his eyes and a minute later I could hear his steady breathing, signaling that he had fallen asleep.

This feels right.

I knew exactly what he meant. If things had turned out differently—if his father hadn't gambled away his fortune, forcing his family to relocate across the kingdom, and Henry and I been able to grow up together—I had a feeling that things still would have ended up just as they were now. He would be a rich nobleman, and not a shopkeeper, but I'd still be sitting on a couch somewhere with his head in my lap, my hands in his hair, marveling at his beauty. Perhaps, no matter where the world takes you, there are certain things that will always happen, there are certain people you will always find your way back to. I had a feeling, a feeling deep inside me, that no matter how my life had turned out, no matter which decisions I made or paths I took, I would have always ended up back here with Henry. And I had no idea what that meant. I had no idea what anything meant. I had a baby growing inside me. A husband who wouldn't speak to me. A kingdom who thought the worst of me. And a handsome man with his head in my lap. What did it all mean? What life was I meant to have? I didn't have a clue. But at the moment I didn't care. I didn't have any answers, but maybe I wasn't meant to. Maybe we're not meant to wonder, not meant to question. Perhaps we're only meant to live one day at a time. After all, don't they always say it's the journey that matters, not the destination?

I'm sorry. It's been much too long since I last updated. I've been so busy with school. I got some very long, very opinionated reviews on the last chapter, which I LOVED. Please, please continue this. Tell me any all thoughts you have on the characters, on what had happened so far, on what you think is going to happen, on what you want to happen. This chapter, unfortunately, was a bit of a filler chapter. But I will say that the next one is going to be quite dramatic. So stay tuned.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!