Chapter 28

A nother sleepless night passed her by. Ella spent most of it staring at the ceiling in the narrow bed, thinking about everything from Nicholas to what would happen to her when she returned home. How would her stepmother treat her then ? And her stepsisters? They were positively vile. It was fruitless to obsess over what had not occurred, and yet she had a difficult time shoving those thoughts away.

Even the bed she was in now was far more comfortable than the lumpy one back home. The blankets were thick and warm and cozy. At home, the blankets were thin and threadbare and didn’t do much to keep her warm from the cold winter nights. Here, the house was full of love and life and laughter. There, the house was full of animosity and orders and endless back-breaking chores.

It was almost as though the people of Rovenheim—Ingrid and Agnes, Nicholas and Noella, even Gustav—had become her family. They treated her with kindness and respect instead of loathing and contempt.

Her heart ached. A deep-seated ache that throbbed through her at the thought of leaving it all behind.

She rolled to her side, trying to ignore the crush of tears that wanted to erupt. Trying to pretend that everything was fine and once they repaired the Christmas Star, she would return home to the life she had before. A life of utter desolation and loneliness.

When the morning light slashed through the one window in the room, she shoved off the bedclothes and dressed. She was grateful for the thick stockings, the boots, the woolen gown and the cloak in which Alice had outfitted her. It would make riding back into the village in the thick snow bearable.

As she exited the room, she heard cheerful, chattering voices and paused a moment to take it in. Nicholas was talking to Ingrid and Freya and telling them a grand story about a fire-breathing dragon that once lived in the Grimbrande Mountains and had, eventually, taken the form of Malvina. That’s why she was so mean because, deep down, she was a dragon. They laughed, knowing he jested. Even Ella smiled at the story.

Then she heard Ava calling them in to breakfast. And the shuffling of feet as they headed into the kitchen. She smelled the fatty scent of fried bacon, a twang of sausage, and possibly oatcakes, and her stomach rumbled.

She headed into the kitchen, saw them gathering around the table. All of them. Nicholas on one side flanked by Freya and Ingrid. Ava on one end. Lars on the other. Ivar opposite the prince and the girls with an empty seat next to him.

For her.

It was all too much. Overcome with emotion, she dashed through the cottage, heading right for the front door, tears burning her eyes. Nicholas called her name but she refused to look his way as she pulled open the door and stepped into the bright, frigid morning. The cold wind stung her cheeks and froze the tears in her eyes. She whisked them away as she stared across the expanse of white lawn at the picket fence. In the distance, a dog barked.

The door behind her opened and closed with a soft snick. She stiffened, blinking away the tears and taking a deep breath to steady herself.

“Ella? Are you all right?” Nicholas was behind her. Probably standing at the door wondering why she had run out of the cottage.

“Yes.” She plastered on her best smile and spun to face him. “I’m fine. It’s just that… it’s morning already and we have a Christmas Star to repair and I have to…” Her words trailed off.

His face remained impassive, but she saw the drop of his shoulders. It was imperceptible. She would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking.

“And then you have to return home. I’m sure you’re ready. I’ll get the horses.”

He was so wrong, but she didn’t correct him. If there was ever a time to tell him the truth—that she didn’t want to go home, that she’d left the glass slippers on the ship—now was the time. But words froze in her throat.

He returned inside, likely to tell Lars they were ready to depart. Moments later, Nicholas led the two mounts around the end of the house, their hooves crunching in the snow.

“Shall we?” He gave her a faint smile. A faint fake smile. As though he had something he wanted to say but was afraid to say it.

Like her.

She nodded, sticking her foot into the stirrup and hoisting herself into the saddle. Her throat constricted with unshed tears, but she managed to swallow past the lump. Together, they rode from Ingrid’s cottage back to the village, which wasn’t far, though they had to take it slow because the thick snow blanketing the ground. The horses picked their way through it until, finally, the gate of the village came into view with the faded sign welcoming them to Rovenheim Village.

They left their horses at the gate, dismounted and entered.

Ella took the lead. She headed right for the tree where she saw the shards of the Star. The pieces were covered by the freshly fallen snow. She dropped to her knees and started digging, looking for the pieces.

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

“Yesterday, when we rode past the tree, I saw the shards of the Star on the ground here. But the snow covered them up.”

He dropped down next to her and started to dig, helping her move the wet, sticky snow out of the way. Their hands bumped, her skin tingling even through her thick gloves. Their eyes met for a brief moment before they went back to digging. Both of them paused when they saw the first glittering piece.

“There,” she said, her breath pluming white.

“I see it.”

They went back to digging and finally uncovered the pieces. Nicholas picked them up, one by one. Ella noticed, though, not all the pieces were there. He held the biggest ones. The smaller pieces were missing.

“I don’t think we can put it back together.” He frowned down at the shards in his palms.

“We can try,” she suggested.

As their eyes met, a look of bewilderment crossed his face. “How? When so many of the pieces are missing?”

She peered down at the gold fragments in his hands. Something occurred to her. Some of them looked as though they fit together. She started arranging them until it was clear what was missing. Their heads were bent together. He watched her intently as she moved one fragment next to another. The Star was almost whole again save for a few bits they were unable to find.

“There, you see,” she said.

“There are still gaps,” he said.

She placed her hands over his, covering what was left of the Star. “I know.” She blew out a breath. “The Star represents more than just an object, though.”

In the blue depths of his eyes, she saw despair over the loss of the ornament. But it was more than that.

“How do you mean?”

“I mean…it represents joy and hope and kindness. A sort of giving spirit. It brings happiness to all those who see it glittering and twinkling on top of the tree.”

“But without it, there is none of that.”

“I disagree,” she said. “I believe it can still bring all those things, even if it is in pieces. This time of year is not about things . It’s about people and how they make us feel. It’s about a sense of hope and love. It’s about being selfless and wanting to do special things for the people we love. We all still have those things without the Star. We have them here.” She lifted her hand and placed it on his chest. She was aware of the faint beat of his heart against her palm.

“You are those things, Nicholas. You are hope and love and compassion for your people. I saw it in the faces of Lars and Ava and their children. I saw it in the faces of the people who live in your castle. Both you and Noella spread the spirit to all of them, even though you may not realize it.”

“Ella…” He breathed her name, his breath white smoke between them.

He tipped his head to one side, his lips slightly parting. She knew what he meant to do and she wanted it. Her eyes fluttered closed in anticipation.

There, at the base of the massive Christmas tree, with the shards of the Star in his palms and her hand over his heart, he kissed her. His lips were cold but soft as they met hers, making her heart soar with elation. Her pulse raced. Her mind took in every detail because she never wanted to forget that magical moment.

As they kissed, a yellowish bright light flashed between them. He pulled back. She opened her eyes, fighting away the disappointment the kiss was over.

“Ella, look.” His voice was a rough whisper.

She tore her eyes from his and glanced down. In his palm, was the shining Christmas Star and it was whole again.

“You did it,” he said, admiration and adoration in his tone.

“I…I don’t understand how.”

“Because you have the Spirit of Christmas inside you, dear.”

Noella’s voice made them both jump. Ella dropped her hand from his chest. They both got to their feet and turned to face his mother, the queen. She wore a winter white gown with a brocade pattern in snowflakes, the edges trimmed in fur, and a matching cloak. A sprig of holly was pinned in her hair that was piled high on her head with ringlets framing her lovely, aged face. Her bright blue eyes twinkled with happiness and her red lips were curved in a smile.

“Mother, you really should announce yourself when you arrive. How long were you there, anyway?”

“Long enough.”

She said it in a sing-song voice which made Ella think she’d been there all along and heard her speech. Her booted feet crunched on the snow as she approached and peered down at the shining Star in his hands.

“Nicely done.” She sounded impressed.

Then she used her magic wand to lift it with a spray of magic. Higher and higher it went until finally it rested on the top of the tree. She gave her wand one last shake, lighting the rest of the tree in tiny twinkle lights.

“It’s beautiful,” Ella said.

“Of course, it is. You made it possible,” Noella said.

“I helped,” Nicholas said, sounding a bit vexed.

Noella patted his shoulder. “You were a bit disheartened about the Star. Come now, if it hadn’t been for Ella, it would never be repaired.”

When he frowned, his mother gave him a cheeky grin. Ella stifled a snicker.

“Now, then. I’m off to find the mayor and tell him the good news.” She disappeared in a puff of magic.

Before either of them could move, she popped back in.

“I almost forgot.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial with a cork. Inside was a shimmering substance. “This will send you home, Ella. When you’re ready, pull off the cork and sprinkle a bit around you, then think of home.”

Ella, her hands shaking, took it from Noella. “Thank you.”

And she was gone in a puff of fairy dust once again.

Nicholas remained rooted to his spot, staring at the space his mother vacated. His face was unreadable. Ella clutched the vial in her gloved hand, staring down at it with her heart in her throat. This was it. Her way home, which meant her adventure with Nicholas had finally ended. Finally, he turned to her and reached for her free hand. He grasped it in his, squeezing it.

“Well,” she said, searching for the right words. “I guess this is it.”

“Your stepmother will want to know you’re safe. I’m sure she’s been worried about you,” he said.

Ella doubted that, but said nothing. Her stepmother likely only missed her servitude. She gave him a weak smile and a nod. Tears threatened again but she blinked them away. There would be time to break down when she returned home.

She didn’t ask anything silly like would she ever see him again. Instead, she took a deep breath and pulled the cork off the vial. He squeezed her hand once more.

“Goodbye, Ella.”

She sniffed, her throat constricting. “Goodbye, Nicholas.”

She sprinkled the shimmering fairy dust around her, closed her eyes, and thought of home. She no longer felt his hand on hers as the ground dropped out beneath her feet. Everything whirled around her. A whoosh of air went around her, stealing her breath and then she landed on the hard, cold ground.

She opened her eyes to darkness and saw she was outside the kitchen door of her childhood home. She’d left Rovenheim and Nicholas behind. Curling in on herself, she tucked her knees to her chest and burst into tears.