When Ella opened her magic book that night, she wasn't expecting to see a journal entry from Char. They were so rare, they always came as a surprise to her when they did come. He was only just beginning to write, so she held her breath as she watched his words appear on her page, tracing each letter as it appeared on the page, imagining watching him write this in the dim candlelight.

I think my decision has been made. I have done everything I can to confirm my suspicions. I must speak to her tomorrow to be certain however. But there is little left to do but wait. No more pacing and stewing. Tomorrow I will be certain. And with all luck, tomorrow I will be engaged.

Ella stopped, lifting her hand quickly off the page when she saw the last word. Engaged. He found someone else. He had moved on.

Everything in Ella's mind screamed that she should be happy. This is what I wanted. This is what he needed. She chants this little mantra in her head, hoping it'll get through to her heart. But her heart seems to have stopped beating. Or it is beating too fast for her to feel. She no longer feels like she exists within her body, instead floating above, watching the shock lay plainly across her face. The pain in her strained eyes. The tremble in her calloused hands. The empty, cold breath leaving her lungs. She was drained. She looked half dead. As if her will to keep fighting was removed from her.

Ella knew she was more than Char. Yet the thought of him was one of the few things getting her through this trying time. And now, he was no longer her beacon of hope - her beacon of light. That candle had been put out.

The worst part is that the tears wouldn't come. She couldn't cry anymore. And that scared her.

The appearance of new ink on the page caught her attention. He was writing something else.

The maiden I shall marry, the maiden who I believe I love, is

Ella shut the book closed, eyes squeezing shut. She didn't want to see. She didn't want to see who had replaced her. She didn't want to know. It would hurt too much. And while she trusts and knows Char enough to know he could never love Hattie or Olive, the possibility either of their names could have followed that line sent a shiver down her spine.

Especially given that Hattie rattled on and on about how close the prince held her that night, and how interested he seemed to be in what she said. 'Clinging to every word she said,' according to her. 'Soaking in her presence like a man deprived of the sun.' Ella initially rolled her eyes, but now Hattie's words scared her.

She didn't want to go to the ball tomorrow. Not now. Not like this. But she made a promise as Lela. She promised Char to be there for his song. And while Ella wasn't ready for this third and final goodbye with Char, she couldn't completely avoid the ball.

So she did everything she could to prepare for this final goodbye. Everything had to be perfect tomorrow. It will be a night she remembers for decades to come.

Everything had to be perfect tomorrow. It will be a night he remembers for decades to come.

Char had to be ultimately sure that Lela was truly Ella. They both have dark brown locks and bright green eyes. Lela was a bit taller than how he remembers Ella, and a bit more of a woman, but Char couldn't be sure of what time had done to her.

But the looks isn't what brought him to this feeling in his gut. They also both spoke Ayorthaian. And the feeling of her hand in his. That was all too familiar for a stranger from Bast. Hattie helped him fill in that missing link.

The biggest clue to him, however, was the fact that Hattie spoke of Ella being retaught her finishing school lessons with her mother's family in Bast. While Bast may have been simply a coincidence, the rest reveals too much. His mother had known and always liked Lady Eleanor's presence. Hence why he grew up around her family and met her daughter at the funeral which would change his world.

Lady Eleanor's whole family was from Frell. If any of her family lived in Bast, it would have been from her father's side, which Char did not know rather well.

Further, why would Ella be retaking finishing school lessons if she was already wed. While Char doesn't doubt the fact Ella refused to let any lesson from finishing school change her behavior, so much time had passed since her first going and now. Plus, it is meant for unwed maidens. It simply didn't make sense.

Either the letter or what Hattie said to him was simply wrong. And Char was betting on both.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts of Ella. Cecelia entered, dressed in her white nightgown, brush in her hand.

"Would you mind brushing through my hair?"

"Of course. You know I can't say no to you." While Cece was more than able to brush her own hair at her age, and did it multiple times independently, whenever she wished to talk about something, or she could feel Char's desire to talk, she would come with her brush late at night. It became a ritual for them, and they did it at least once a week, even just to catch up about all the things happening in their busy lives. After he arrived back from Ayortha, the very night, she came into his room, and wouldn't leave until she was practically falling forward in her sleepy state.

Cecelia sat on the foot of Char's bed, handing him her brush. Char seated himself behind her, crossing his legs. He hummed quietly, simply brushing in silence to let her start the conversation. He always let her begin.

"Char, I met the most peculiar woman today."

"Oh? Tell me about her."

"I mean a lass named Eleanor in the Royal Menagerie today. She had a rather striking resemblance to the late lady. Yet she was merely a servant." Char bit his lip slightly, squeezing his eyes shut. Cece felt the brush pause in her hair. He took a moment to regain his composure, to push thoughts of Ella away, before answering.

"According to the Lady Hattie, a niece of Lady Eleanor has been staying in their home. A maid by the name of Cinders. I had the opportunity to meet her once."

"Yet they fail to bring this maid to the ball? How absolutely awful. You should request her presence."

"She denied my invitation."

"Do you remember Ella? The late Lady's daughter."

Char knew Cecelia was not trying to make this so difficult for him. Simply asking questions. Maybe he could have avoided this had he been forthcoming with his family. Had he not let his pride get in the way. Yet here he was.

"Yes."

"Ella and Cinders must have grown up side by side together. Cinders was well-acquainted with Apple. Ella must have told her all about it. She also seemed to speak with the parrots, but heaven knows I didn't understand a word she spoke."

Char slowly brushed his sister's hair slowly, trying not to let his emotions overwhelm him, or let on the pain in his heart. He was mostly done, now just brushing through her black hair absentmindedly.

"You know, Char, if I didn't know any better, I would think Ella was simply disguising herself as this Cinders character. But why, I simply couldn't piece together."

Cecelia stood up, turning to face her brother as she braided her hair quickly, tying it off with a ribbon at the end.

"I do hope that you invite Cinders to the ball tomorrow night." And with that his sister let the door shut quietly behind her, leaving his brother alone with so much to think about.

Was Ella Lela? Or Cinders? Or what if she was neither of them? How would he prove this?

And even if he does find his Ella - even if she is one of those other maidens - it doesn't answer the why.

He slept restlessly that night, once again dreaming of Lucinda tugging at Pinocchio's strings.