"It's not broken?" Ella sat up in the guest bed, wrapped in a silk nightgown so soft she couldn't feel it whisper against her skin as she moved.
"No, milady. The ankle is sprained, but you should be able to walk on it within the week without assistance." The doctor wiped his hands on a square of linen. "Antonia, apply the poultice every four hours to ensure it doesn't dry out."
Antonia bobbed her head. "Yes, sir."
"I'm stuck in bed for a week?" Ella asked.
"No," the doctor replied, "As long as you're careful, you can stroll around the gardens. They're quite peaceful this time of year, and the exercise will be good for your recovery."
I could use some peace. But not today. Today I want to stay in bed and rest. "It's been a long day," she said, "but I'll go out." Tomorrow.
"Be sure you do." Giving a brief nod, the doctor opened the door and immediately dropped into a low bow. "Your Majesties and Your Highness."
Ella pushed herself up further on the pillows. "I–Your Majesties" What do I say? Why are they here? Did Grey tell them...of course he did. They're his parents. She swallowed. "Your Majesties, I'm so pleased to meet you."
"Ella, this is Queen Alyeria and King Leopold. Mother, Father, this is Ella, my chosen bride."
His what? Did he ask me? Does he need to? She summoned a smile as Grey and his parents walked into the room to stand by her bed.
The two royals were the most beautiful undead Ella had ever seen. The rotting flesh and purple bruising were perfect. Grey, on the other hand, was entirely himself.
The undead king beetled his eyebrows. "Where do you come from, young miss, and what are your bloodlines?"
"She is not a broodmare, Father." Grey reached out and took Ella's hand in his. "Her bloodlines do not matter to me."
Grey's defense gave Ella courage. "I have no royal bloodlines, Your Majesty. My father was of the merchant class."
It was the queen's turn to speak. "Was of the merchant class? He has died, then?"
Ella took a deep breath. "I believe he was murdered shortly after he married my stepmother."
"Those are serious charges," King Leopold stated. "Where is your proof of such a crime?"
"I don't have any, Your Majesty. Except...there were bones in the cellar where I was–I was kept."
"Confined, you mean," Grey clarified.
"Our kingdom contains some less than desirable undead. What is the family name of your stepmother?" Queen Alyeria asked.
"Beaumont," Ella replied.
"The Beaumonts have long had a history of skirting the edges of acceptable behavior," King Leopold said. "This requires investigation."
"Does—does that mean you believe me?"
"It means we are committed to keeping our population safe from those whose actions might harm them," Queen Alyeria replied. "You mentioned your stepmother. What is your family name?"
"Adler," Ella replied. "My full name is Ella Rose Adler."
The queen gasped. "You are Phillip's daughter?"
"You knew my Papa?" Ella's eyes widened.
"Of course we knew him," King Leopold chimed in. "He is the one who saved us."
"I-I don't understand," Ella stammered. "You're alive, too?"
"We choose to appear as undead so no one feels uncomfortable when they come to see us," the queen explained.
"He saved us?" Grey asked. "How?"
"Your father learned of the curse while on his travels. I can only surmise that he encountered some of the undead and managed to escape with the knowledge of how they came into existence. Be it as it may, he not only sent word back to us, but he sent a potion that allowed us to retain our humanity during the—the crisis."
Ella frowned. "My Papa was friends with you before he died?"
"Your father was a traveling merchant of some renown," the king said. "He was able to get exotic spices and other goods from kingdoms far from us. We valued him and what he brought to our lives. We will never be able to repay what he did for us, Ella."
"But we will try," Queen Alyeria stated, "by accepting you into our home and our hearts."
"Which means," King Leopold said, "we believe your accusations against the Beaumont household."
Tears pricked the edges of Ella's eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.
"On to happier matters," the queen said. "Did you meet Timothy at the ball?"
That's right. His real name's Timothy. "Yes, and no, Your Majesty." Ella recounted the whole story of their meeting in the garden, the ball, and his telling her of his humanity.
The king cleared his throat, drawing Ella's attention back to him. "What makes you believe you are worthy of our son, and of marriage into our house?"
Ella glanced shyly at Grey. "He does, Your Majesty."
The queen smiled. Ella noticed how white and unblemished her teeth were. "I do believe we shall get along just fine, Ella. Please, call us by our given names. You will be family, after all."
"Ella needs to gather some things from her stepmother's home," Grey said. "But I cannot, in good conscience, allow her to return there. I will send Henri and a footman to bring everything back here, with your permission, of course."
Queen Alyeria raised an eyebrow. "Of course, Timothy. But I am curious, Ella. What did your stepmother do to warrant such a statement from my son? Surely it was something more than you finding bones, terrible as that was. "
Ella shook her head. "N—nothing, Majesty."
"Ella, this is not the time to pretend."
"I can't. I'm sorry, but I just can't."
"Ella," the king said, "we cannot help you if you do not allow it. You have told us there is no evidence of your father's murder, other than bones in a cellar. While that is horrific, we cannot hold her accountable without proof. Otherwise we are violating the boundaries we set down for ourselves when we took the throne."
"When I was younger my stepmother allowed my youngest step-sister to use a whip on me. " Ella pushed up her sleeve and showed them the faint scars peppering her forearm. "It hasn't happened in many years; it was when I was younger..." she trailed off. I'm actually defending her...Mama...Celina. And Esmae. Is that how badly I've been broken? She took a deep breath in, releasing it slowly. Then the story of her life tumbled out in a rush of words; the servant conditions she lived under, the abuse interspersed with brief glimpses of kindness brought on by the conditions of her father's will, and the true kindnesses of Gregory, Alain, Mr. Fitzsimmons, and Evangeline.
"Where is the cellar?" King Leopold asked. "I must see the bones for myself if I am to act as judge and jury to your stepmother."
"It's–not far from my home is an abandoned garden, one I've been using to grow food, and my parents' home is there, my real parents, I mean." Ella stumbled through the explanation.
"We will send footmen and guards to collect your immediate belongings," the queen said. "You can return to get whatever else you need after we have dealt with the Beaumonts."
"There's one more thing," Ella protested. "I forgot...Eva...my stepmother is planning on giving her to Mr. Robere in marriage to clear her debt to him." She rushed on, "Mr. Robere is the butcher, and what Mama, I mean Celina, is doing is practically selling her to him. Is there any way to stop her from doing that?"
The king and queen glanced at each other. "We believed Celina Beaumont to be wealthy. I cannot imagine Phillip would have left her entirely bereft. It was not his nature to do so."
"Papa left me his – everything that belonged to him," Ella replied. "But Celina had control of the estate until I reached my majority. My oldest stepsister and I discovered pages that showed she has been stealing from what he left me and putting it into an account of her own."
"Then that shall be addressed, as well," the king stated. "The matriarch of the Beaumont line has overstepped her authority for the last time." Nodding at Ella, he strode out of the room.
Ella sniffed. "I'm sorry, I feel like I'm always crying."
Queen Alyeria sat on the edge of Ella's bed. "My dear, I cannot imagine the things you have been through. If you did not cry, I would be concerned."
"Thank you, Your–Alyeria." She paused, taking her hand back from Grey and beginning to pick at the comforter covering her. "May I ask you something?"
"Of course," the queen replied.
"My stepmother raised me to believe all undead hate us, and that's the reason I needed to remain concealed. But you, the king, and Grey...none of you seem worried about being found out."
"There have always been outliers," Queen Alyeria replied. "Some of them, when the curse began, found that being undead gave them the excuse to exercise their more unsavory habits. But most of the undead simply wish to live, much the same way as they did before. Ella, the only true difference between us and them is life itself."
"So Mama–my stepmother–lied to me all this time?"
"It appears so, yes."
"Then why does nobody talk about Grey being alive?"
Grey sat down on the edge of the bed, opposite his mother. "Because no one outside of this castle knows, Ella. The staff understands our desire for privacy, so they do not gossip. We, in turn, take care of them and their families. "
How lonely. But then again, it's not that much different from what my life was. No friends, and no way to just be himself...no wonder he explores the kingdom in disguise. She reached out and took his hand. Maybe we can learn to be ourselves with each other.
"Timothy, your father and I need to discuss some things with you. Ella, would you excuse us?" The queen got to her feet. "Come, it is apparent she needs rest. We will expect you at lunch tomorrow, Ella."
Grey bent toward Ella. "I will come back tonight, and take you to the gardens," he whispered. "Will that be acceptable?"
Ella smiled her agreement, snuggling down into the comforter as they left. I can't wait for tonight. It's going to be incredible. The thought accompanied her into sleep.