by Aya Ling
“I don’t want it,” I say harshly. “As long as I am crown prince, I will be expected to take a wife and bear an heir. There is no one I wish to marry and beget children from, other than Kat. And she is lost to me forever.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “Henry, you are the only person among the aristocracy that I trust will work hard for the welfare of our people. And you are now engaged to Elle. There is no one better for the throne than you.”
Henry starts to shake his head, but a withering stare silences him. “Please do this for me.”
3
Kat
“No. Freakin’. Way.”
I laugh—a hollow, mirthless sound. “I knew you’d say that. If our roles were reversed, and you told me that you traveled to a book, well, I wouldn’t believe you either.”
“I need a second.” Paige paces across the floor for a moment, then turns to me. “Okay. Let me ask you again: where have you been these eight months?”
“In Athelia, a country where the book The Ugly Stepsister is set in. I was married to Edward, the prince of Athelia. I carry the title of Her Royal Highness Princess Katriona.” Since I’ve said it, I might as well roll with it. “I can do a slow waltz, a quadrille, a polka dance. I can show you how to flirt with a fan in fifty different ways. I can tell you the proper ranking of a duke, marquess, and earl. Anything that an old-fashioned noble lady needs to know? Been there, done that.”
I finish with a regal wave of my hand, the kind I’m taught to use when greeting a subject.
Paige stares at me, her mouth wide open. “Where did you learn that?”
“What do think I’ve been trying to tell you?”
The door opens and Mom enters the room, carrying several shopping bags. She and Paige had a tacit agreement: one goes out for errands, and the other stays with me. Poor, fragile Kat must not be left alone. Well, if Krev were to suddenly materialize and spirit me away to Athelia, there’s nothing they can do to prevent him. A pang pierces me when I think of Athelia and how Edward must be feeling now. He doesn’t have the luxury of escaping to a remote little town; he has to put on his smiling mask and pretend Katriona is me. God, I wish there’s a way to spare him the pain.
“Girls.” Mom lifts one of the bags. “Guess what I got for you today?”
“Mom, we’re not five-year-olds anymore,” Paige says, but she’s smiling all the same. “What did you get?”
“Well, it’s too cold for salsa, but I got some scrumptious smoked ham at a local butcher. Kat, what do you say to a ham-and-cheese sandwich?”
Her words send another pang, like an arrow, straight to my heart. Mom looks nothing like Edward, but the way she says it, with tender, loving care in her voice, is just like the way Edward asked me on our wedding night. I feel like crying.
“Kat?” Mom closes the door and approaches me. “Are you all right? We can make something different if you prefer...tortilla soup, maybe? Or chicken quesadillas, you used to love those.”
The first thing I think of is to say no, there’s nothing wrong with me, when on second thought, I don’t want to be reminded of Edward.
“I’d love a quesadilla,” I say. “Thanks, Mom.”
* * *
Another week passes by uneventfully.
It has been three weeks since my return to America. I’m fully recovered—I can breathe freely, walk around, and basically function like any healthy person. Nothing is wrong with my body, but I miss Edward terribly. I am trying my best to get back to my normal self, but I’ve never been good at acting. Mom is worried about me and even suggested that I see a psychiatrist, but I refuse point-blank. A shrink isn’t going to conjure Edward up in our world. Every time Ryan calls Mom, I would be reminded of Edward. Or when Paige’s boyfriend calls her, I wish Edward is by my side. But it’s no use. No one here in my world will ever measure up to him. No one can ever replace him. All I can do is wait for the pain to gradually abate, and find something to do with my life. Love will never come to me; all my capacity to love has been given to my husband.
Paige hasn’t mentioned Athelia or Edward, though I strongly suspect she’s been Googling whatever she could find about him. I don’t feel like bringing it up myself, since the last time I told her I was a princess, it didn’t go well.
The doorbell rings. “I’ll get it,” Mom says, even though I’m in the living room and sitting closer to the entrance. I might be depressed, but I’m not an invalid. So I jump up and open the door, expecting a neighbor (please don’t let it be a reporter), but it’s the mailman.
“I’ve got a package for Ms. Katherine Wilson,” he says. It takes one second to process that my name is Katherine Wilson, not Katriona Bradshaw. I’ve grown so used to being called Katriona Bradshaw.
“That’s me.” I sign the delivery slip and take the package. “Thanks.”
“What is it?” Mom is by my side in an instant.
“Did you order something online?” Paige asks.
I haven’t even touched my purse, much less using my credit card. I read the mailing address and frown. “It’s from Jason.”
Mom’s face clouds over. “You don’t need to have anything to do with him if you don’t want to.”
“Mom. How many times do I have to tell you that Jason has nothing to do with my disappearance?”
“Honey, you broke up with him. Isn’t it something he did that made you dump him?”
“He didn’t do anything. Really. It’s all me.”
Paige crosses her arms. “Then what’s he doing, sending a package to you?”
“No idea.” I open the package and draw out a glossy new hardcover. There’s a gorgeous girl in a gorgeous dress on the cover. The title reads Twice Upon A Time.
Paige gasps. “The title! Isn’t it the same style they used for The Ugly Stepsister? Is that a sequel?”
I drop the book and yelp. It hits my big toe and God, it hurts. But all I can think of is my last day in Athelia, that pivotal moment when Krev chanted a spell to get me out of Athelia. There was a book spinning in the air, and I’m holding the same book in my hands.
“Oh my God,” I gasp. “I… I can’t believe this…”
I throw the book into the air and see if it would hover; I put it on the table and see if it would glow; I call Krev’s name. But nothing happens. The book, brand-new, isn’t any different from a normal book.
“Honey, what are you doing?” Mom stares at me, her eyes wide in shock.
“You’re acting crazy.” Paige grabs my arm and makes me sit down. “Don’t tell me that you’re trying to enter that book and into the story.”
“I have to get back!” I shout, reaching for the book and shaking it. “Do something, you stupid goblins! I have to return to Edward!”
“Kat! Stop it!”
Mom’s cell phone rings. It jolts me to my senses; I calm down while Mom answers the phone.
“Ryan? Hi dear...yes, we’re about to cook dinner…” she glances at me for a second. “Yes, everything’s fine…uh-huh...uh-huh...great. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
Mom swipes her phone and lays it on the table. She levels an intense stare at me, her lovely dark eyes framed by long eyelashes (I used to hate that I didn’t inherit her eyes) containing a questioning look.
Paige hands me a scrap of paper. “This fell out of the book when you tossed it in the air.”
And I didn’t even notice it. I was so keen on getting back to Athelia. Scrawled on the paper is Jason’s handwriting. “Found this under my bed. Figure it must be yours. I hope you’re doing okay. Jason.”
I flip through the book and feel like crying. The story inside is my story. Most events that happened to Edward and I can be found in the book. I have no idea how it showed up in our world, but it gives me a faint glimmer of hope. Hope that one day I might be able to go back.
But I can’t. I don’t belong in Athelia; I can’t survive there without oxygen. Even if I can travel back, I won’t be able to live there with Edward. A tear rolls down my cheek and I wipe it
away.
“Kat.” Paige puts a hand on my arm. Her voice is uncommonly gentle. “Oh Kat, don’t cry.”
“I think you owe us an explanation.” Mom says. “Who is Edward? Why must you return to him? Why are you so upset about the book Jason sent you?”
“I…” I sniffle, and cuddle the book against my chest. “I was just telling Paige about it, but it’s an incredible story. You won’t believe me.”
“Tell us anyway.” Mom puts an arm around my shoulders. “Whatever secret you’ve been carrying, you need to let it out. Let us help you with your burden. What is family for, anyway?”
So I tell them everything. From when I hit my head on the stairs, when I was transported to Athelia, how I tried to come back to America, but ended up marrying the prince.
“But you never mentioned it when you came back!” Mom says. Surprisingly, she doesn’t say I’m crazy. Even Paige looks riveted...I guess my story is so intriguing that they forgot how ridiculous it is.
“Because the goblin queen put a memory charm on me. She believed I’d be depressed after leaving Edward, so she made me forget about Athelia. But later,” I hold up Twice Upon A Time, “I went back last year. That’s where I was during the eight months I was missing.”
Mom turns the pages, her expression disbelieving. “This is what happened to you when you disappeared last year?”
“Not everything is recorded, but the important stuff is all here.”
“Looks like you told him you’d stay,” Paige says, leaning over and squinting on one page. Heat rises in my face—a passionate make out session had followed when I promised Edward I wouldn’t leave him. “If you married him, why did you come back?”
Tears threaten to fill my eyes again. I take a deep breath, willing myself not to cry. Then I tell them about the oxygen problem.
Paige shakes her head. “This is crazy stuff.”
“The goblins are recovering after a huge civil war, so they didn’t have enough magic to conjure up another spell. And it’s risky as well. One mistake could make me die right away.” At Mom’s incredulous gasp, I spread my hands. “I did warn you it’s incredible. But I swear I’m telling the truth.”
“Honey, I know you wouldn’t lie about such a serious thing. But do you suppose that you might be deluded?”
“Like maybe she got kidnapped by a cult and they hypnotized her into believing this story?”
“Oh God, Paige, no.” I throw up my hands in despair. “Fine, I get it. Don’t believe me. But you’ve got to believe it when I say Jason has nothing to do with my disappearance. And I want my wedding ring back.”
* * *
Two months have passed since I received the book Twice Upon A Time. Every day (sometimes night), when no one is looking, I would take the book and call out Krev’s name, but nothing happens. No matter whatever I try—yelling, shouting or even throwing the book across the room, it’s no use. Nothing happens.
Mom is worried about me, as I’m adamant I wasn’t lying about Athelia. Paige, however, is more understanding. She always thought there was something weird when she Googled the books and nothing came up. Even the most obscure book would have some information online, but she couldn’t find anything on The Ugly Stepsister and Twice Upon A Time. Funny, as my sister is going to medical school and doesn’t believe in anything that can’t be explained by hard science.
While I’m still obsessed with the book, I also understand I can’t wallow in my obsession forever. Edward let me go because he wanted me to live, so I attempt to get back to normal life. I can’t work in Canada, but Paige has found me some freelance jobs online. I copy edit, proofread, and do Spanish translation. Sometimes I’m reminded of the papers I had proofread for Edward and I have to quash the pain that always comes when I think of him. I run errands, I lug groceries from the supermarket, and I also exercise regularly. There’s a small gym where they have karate lessons. But there is one thing I stay away from. Men.
I wrote to Tara one day, asking her how Jason is. I’ve always felt sorry for my ex-boyfriend. He didn’t do anything wrong, but he took all the blame. Because what other explanation could there be for his girlfriend disappearing in his bedroom, and turning up in the same place eight months later? I had tried issuing a written statement that Jason didn’t have anything to do with my disappearance, but the public still regards him with suspicion. Even if I never met Edward, it’s unlikely that we could have gone on with life as before. My disappearance has had an impact on our relationship forever.
“Jason is doing better,” Tara writes. “He passed his PhD. qualifications, and he’s now working on his thesis. Whatever happened to you, Kat? Did you really run off to a small island with that guy you met in sophomore year? Can we meet up in Chicago sometime? You’ve barely said anything when you left the country.”
Guilt stabs my heart when I think about Jason. I will always owe him, even though it isn’t my fault. He’ll get his degree, land a job, and hopefully by that time he’ll have found another girl.
There’s a pinging sound from my laptop, signifying I have another email. I groan. Tons of messages had flooded my mailbox since I was away. Messages that are worried about me, and where I have been to. It has taken me weeks to sort them out (I’ve grown used to categorizing letters at the palace), and answer the ones from friends, assuring them I am fine.
This new message, however, is different. It starts out with a courteous message from Doris, the department secretary from the university I graduated from.
“Dear Katherine, the sender of this email wanted to get in touch with you. I could not give out your email address, but I’m forwarding it to you and you can decide what to do with it. I hope you are well. Yours sincerely.”
The email she forwarded was from someone in the UK, judging from the end of the email address, ac.uk. I frown. Whoever in Britain is trying to reach me? If it’s a reporter, it shouldn’t be from an educational institution.
And then the message shocks me to the core.
“Dear Ms. Wilson, forgive me for reaching out to you in this abrupt manner, but my curiosity got the better of me. When I saw your picture in the news, my interest was piqued. I am a lecturer for history at a university in Wales. I believe I’ve seen the insignia on the gown you were wearing in the photo. I would hazard a guess that during the months you have disappeared, you were in a country called Athelia.
If what I say seems nonsense to you, I apologize for bothering you and please ignore my message. However, if the name of Athelia is familiar to you, I hope that you will take the trouble to reply to me. I shall be greatly interested in learning more of your experience.”
My hand freezes on the mouse. Someone else in my world also knows about Athelia.
4
Edward
I work in my office, doing my best to concentrate on the draft and keeping Kat out of my mind. However, as it is the article about compulsory education, I cannot help thinking of her. How her eyes had shone when she found a place for the girls’ school, and how animated she had talked about the girls finally getting a ‘proper’ education. Those are memories I shall treasure for life.
Brisk footsteps sound behind the door, and my secretary appears. “You have a letter, Your Highness,” he says in respectful tones and hands me the envelope.
“Thank you, George.”
I open the letter. It is from Miss Cavendish, the former headmistress of Princess College. Her message is short but filled with concern.
“I apologize for bothering you, Your Highness. I understand that Princess Katriona has been through a great trial. However, we would like to be informed when she will be ready to resume her patron duties.”
I let the letter flutter from my fingertips. Katriona Bradshaw is unlikely to attend a school meeting at Princess College. Kat had asked Katriona to carry on with her duties, but I highly doubt that woman would have the heart to perform them. I wonder what I should write in return. It is bound to raise suspicion to explain that Kat had suddenly
a change of heart, and would no longer be able to participate in the meetings.
As I ponder on how to reply to this letter, footsteps echo outside the door again. I look up, expecting George again, but it is Amelie. She rarely visits me at my office, though since Kat moved in, she has come more frequently, such as to remind Kat of a tailor’s appointment or afternoon tea with my mother.
“Lady Pembroke has come to visit her sister,” she says.
I try not to let my irritation manifest. Bianca Bradshaw brought her own sister back to Athelia and accused Kat of identity theft, forcing Kat to attend a highly publicized trial. She had caused great pain to my wife, and being of an unforgiving nature (unfortunately), I never think of her without resentment.
“Have you any other reason coming down here and informing me of her visit?”
Amelie purses her lips, her face marred with an uneasy frown. I wonder what is troubling her, when she approaches my desk.
“Forgive me if it isn’t my place to say this, Your Highness,” she says in a low voice. “But where has my mistress gone to?”
She knows. Obviously. Having served Kat for more than a year, Amelie could tell that Katriona Bradshaw is profoundly different to Kat, no matter how much they may look alike.
“The woman in your suite, who is currently talking to Lady Pembroke, is not the same woman as the one you married.”
I raise my head. Amelie is staring at me, her eyes expectant, like I should provide her the answers.
“Has she been troubling you?”
“Not particularly, but…” Amelie shakes her head. “I… I was merely wondering…”
“Worry not about her.” I fold my arms. “As a matter of fact, I am planning to divorce her. She won’t be your mistress for much longer.”
