Ellie and the Prince (Faraway Castle #1)(6)
“Though you have been told many times every summer not to approach wild animals, particularly not magical creatures.” Omar spoke without removing his gaze from Ellie’s pale face while she scooted over to spray the burned sheet with a bottle of magical liquid. As the linen fabric mended itself, a fragrance reminiscent of a summer evening beside the lake replaced the scorched scent. Ellie looked up, caught his gaze, and blushed again. Quickly she turned back to her pack.
Rafiq scrambled to his feet and left the room in a huff, mumbling under his breath.
“Miss Ellie,” Omar said, hoping she might look at him again, “I apologize for causing you extra trouble. I shouldn’t have slept in so late. Usually Asmaa, the nanny, can keep this little mob under control, but obviously she needed help this morning.”
Her gaze flashed up to meet his. “I don’t blame you. But whatever will your parents say about . . . about this?” She waved one hand vaguely, but he knew what she meant.
“You saved the day,” he said firmly, “and that is all we will tell them.”
He held her gaze for a golden moment, but then her lips set in a firm line and she focused on stuffing her spray bottles into her pack. She was not her usual confident, competent self. His hope slipped again. Did she like him at all, or was he upsetting her?
Yasmine abruptly rushed from the room. He caught a glimpse of his little sister’s expression and wondered what had upset her.
“Yasmine, wait!” Rita shouted in his ear, then lost her balance and nearly pulled Omar over by the neck of his robe in her hurry to follow her sister. He quickly grabbed her arms and helped her slide safely off the bed. She landed on her backside anyway, then rolled over, pushed herself up, and ran into the hallway, shouting “My sprite! My sprite!” in a squeaky voice.
Aware that the dream was about to end, Omar slid off the bed and adjusted his robe just as Ellie scrambled to her feet. She looked up, stammered “Th-thank you,” and fled, her glass shoes clopping on the hardwood floor.
Omar snatched up her forgotten pack and followed close behind, his bare feet padding silently. “Thank you again for saving us all,” he said, aware that he sounded foolish but unable to stop himself. “Miss Ellie, please . . .”
She took the pack from him with lowered eyes and mumbled thanks, slung it over her shoulder, then paused inside the suite’s entry door to stack glass boxes in her arms. Now that sprites filled them, they no longer fit into her pack.
“If you’ll wait a moment while I change, I can help you carry them down,” Omar said. Any excuse for more time with her.
“Oh, don’t bother,” she said shortly. “I’ve carried more cages than this before.”
“It’s no bother at all,” he began, just as the lock rattled and the door swung open to reveal the children’s nanny, her gray hair in a tangle, her expression both angry and worried.
“Where are the children?” she asked.
“Uh, around here somewhere. What happened to you, Asmaa?”
“That young viper locked me into a garden shed!” she snapped. “Lured me in there with some story about a puppy, then shut and barred the door. If one of the gardeners hadn’t come along, I’d be there yet.” Then her face softened. “Welcome, Prince Omar. I’m glad you’ve joined us.”
“Thank you, Asmaa. I apologize for my siblings’ behavior.”
“It was Rafiq, of course,” she growled. Then her gaze moved to study Ellie in her dusty coverall. “Do I know this person?”
He cringed inwardly at her disapproving tone. “This is Miss Ellie Calmer. The children brought cinder sprites into the suite, and the castle might be burning right now if Miss Calmer had not rushed to our rescue.”
“Indeed.” Asmaa’s dark eyes narrowed. “And you not yet dressed, Omar.”
His face burned. “I didn’t arrive until nearly three in the morning.”
While they were speaking, Ellie slipped around the door and into the main hall, the cages stacked in her arms. Omar took a few steps toward his room. “Asmaa, the kids are around here somewhere. I’ve got to get dressed and help Miss Ellie with those cages.”
With any luck, he thought, he might catch Ellie on the stairs. With any luck, she would find the load too unwieldy and need to stop once or twice. In his room he threw on shorts, t-shirt, and shoes, then dashed after her, guessing she would use the service stairs. She was halfway down the second flight, precariously balancing her load of squeaking sprites, when he caught up and passed her.
“Here, let me take some of those,” he offered, and she gave such a start that he seized the top cage to save it from bouncing down the remaining stairs.
“No, no, please!” Even as he took another cage from her load, she gave him an imploring look. “I could lose my position here if you’re seen helping me or even talking with me. And if the director heard that I was in your . . . your bedroom . . .” She visibly shuddered.
His hope withered. “I won’t tell anyone, and I’ll make certain the children keep quiet. They definitely don’t want you to leave Faraway Castle,” he said. “I won’t try to help if it’ll cause you trouble. That’s the last thing I want.”
She moved on down the last few stairs. At the base of that flight, he replaced the two cages atop her load. “I’m really sorry if I . . . if I upset you, Miss Ellie. I wouldn’t hurt you for anything.” He gave her an awkward little bow.