Sir Bowen reached Kyrria at the dead of night. Perfect. He would wait about a week; let the royals think they're safe. Sir Peter would have undoubtedly have warned them by now. But he'd get there. He would have Ella. She would be his bride.



Each day, Ella woke up with the same thought: "Is this the day Sir Bowen comes?" It stayed with her as she got up and went about doing her royal duties. It lurked in the dark recesses of her mind at all hours of the day. Her only respite was at night, the only time she did not think of her father's deceit.

Char always consoled her, quieted her fears for a spell. Mandy did as well. Everyone she met was supportive and strove to keep her safe.

Her father had not been allowed in the royal presence since he broke the news of his "business dealing".

Two weeks had passed, and Ella's fears were diminishing somewhat. Her father's "payment" had been due long ago. Surely, if the ruthless Sir Bowen had wished to take her, he would of done so by now. No, not even he would risk coming to the palace. He would just have to find some other inauspicious girl to be his wife.

Char had to attend meetings with his father all day, learning how to be a kind and thoughtful ruler. Ella was bored. What was there to do now? Certainly not any staircase sliding. Where was the fun without an opponent? She could sit in her bedchamber and read, but reading didn't exactly hold an appeal with Ella. A walk? The castle grounds were quite beautiful. A walk it was, then.

Ella strode casually amidst the blooms. It was the first time she had been outside alone since the danger of Sir Bowen had come to her attention. It felt good to leave the pesky guards inside and enjoy the beauty of nature unaccompanied.

She stopped by the greenhouse, where the summer plants were stored all year. Someone was walking inside, someone without the customary green uniform of the royal gardeners. Ella walked in to investigate.

The person in question wore a dirty brown smock with brown pants and shoes so worn, bits of toe stuck out the top. He had a threadbare wool cap on his head, and his face was covered with dirt. It was a hobo.

Ella smiled at him kindly. "You know, sir, that it is illegal to live here in the royal greenhouse, don't you?"

The mendicant got a panicked look on his face. "Oh, kind lady!" he cried. "I beg of you, do not turn me in! I'll go away, I swear! Do not have me arrested, please!"

Ella shook her head. "Oh, I wouldn't do that," she replied. "I know full well what it is like to need shelter. Just, hide from the gardeners, please?"

The beggar's smile was radiant. "Thank you, kind lady. I should repay your kindness." His voice dropped. "Would you like to see a most wondrous sight, seen by a select few, a sight so fantastic it changes the life of all who see it?"

Ella's smile turned to a condescending one. This was an insane beggar, then. "Sure, why not? Take me to it!"

The beggar walked out the door and into the garden. Ella followed close behind. They kept walking until they reached the edge of the gardens, near the gate. They finally came to a halt in front of a nondescript black carriage.

Ella looked around. "Why are we here? Where is this sight?"

The door to the carriage opened; the beggar pushed her into two large arms waiting for her. Then he hopped into the driver's seat and started the horses.

"Why, my dear Ella, I am the sight. I must thank Neil for describing me so kindly."

"Who-who are you?" Ella asked, knowing the answer before he spoke.

"You must excuse me, I've lost all my manners. I am Sir Bowen, knight of Torlia, and your future husband."