by Aya Ling
Something like hope springs into her eyes. “And then our princess will be back?”
I look away. “You have duties to attend to, Amelie. Run along.”
The question remains in her eyes, but being discreet, as she has always been trained, she refrains from further speech. She curtsies and quits the room.
* * *
It is evening when I return to the suite. Much to my annoyance, Bianca Bradshaw has not gone yet. She is leaning against the back of the sofa while Katriona Bradshaw sits across her. I grit my teeth. They are occupying this place as though it were their property. If I had my way, I would turn them out in an instant.
For that moment, I am glad that Father had instructed me to keep my emotions in check, and to show a blank, emotionless face when necessary. This is what I must present to the Bradshaw girls.
“Good evening, Lady Pembroke.” I incline my head briefly. “I see that you have enjoyed a pleasant afternoon with your sister.”
She glances at me warily, and then flashes a brilliant smile. “It was pleasant indeed. How was your afternoon, Your Highness?”
“The usual,” I say.
“I suppose I should be going,” Bianca says with a tinkling laugh. Whereupon Katriona rises and touches her arm. “Please don’t go yet, Bianca. Why don’t you stay for dinner?”
“Not tonight,” I say. I will not tolerate the presence of Bianca Bradshaw at the same table. Not if I can help it.
“But…” Katriona looks reluctant to be parted from her sister. Perhaps this is a good thing. If she prefers the company of her sister, then she might be more willing to be released from this marriage. While I do sympathize with her plight, I cannot bring myself to act anything more than I would towards a casual acquaintance. For that is all I am willing to show. Nothing more, not even friendship.
“We need to talk,” I say. “Lady Pembroke, I suggest that you return another time.” There is a finality in my tone that both sisters dare not defy. However, were Kat to hear me, she would chide me and say there is no need for me to be so cold. My heart hardens when I think of Kat. Even though I know that Kat would be ripped away from me without the Bradshaw girls doing anything, it does not make my temperament towards them more amenable.
When Bianca has left, I place myself in an armchair as far as possible from Katriona.
“How do you find the life here?”
She colors and looks at her hands, darting a gaze at the furniture. “It…it has surpassed anything I had imagined, Your High… Edward.”
I cannot help but feel irritated when she calls me by my name. I want her to call me by my title, but I know the servants would be suspicious. “Did you know that you are also patron of the first girls’ school in Athelia?”
“A school for girls?” She frowns. “An extraordinary thing. How can there be a school for girls when there are governesses and tutors for their lessons?”
I explain the duties that Kat had carried out, and try to make them sound as onerous as possible. “Now that you know the numerous duties a princess has, why not consider an alternative?”
Instantly, she takes on a guarded expression. She may not attract as much attention as her sister, but she is no simpleton. “I am all ears.”
“You are well aware that I bear no attachment to you. I very much doubt you have feelings for me either. Therefore, I propose that we go separate ways. I shall have my accountant draw up an allowance for you. As former wife of the prince, I do not think you will have much difficulty acquiring another partner. If you…”
She holds up a hand. “Are you saying you do not want me here?”
I look away. There are times that I have to make myself look away. She looks so similar to Kat that I am afraid my acute longing for my wife may weaken my resolution to distance Katriona. “You know as well as I that a relationship between us is impossible.”
“I am prepared to do princess duties. I am even willing to allow you to take a mistress if you wish. But what I won’t agree to is a divorce.”
I feel my jaw tighten. I knew it wouldn’t be this easy. Any girl would unlikely give up the privilege of a princess, no matter how many duties there are.
“Name your sum,” I say. “Trust me, you would be much happier with an allowance and freedom.”
She glances up at me, desperation in her eyes. “Please, Edward. Take pity on me; I cannot leave as a divorced woman. Even if she comes back, I will not relinquish this position.”
5
Kat
“Honey, are you sure you want to find this Professor Bartlett?”
I look up from the suitcase I’m packing for the trip. “I looked him up online. That college in Wales has his profile, and the message comes from the same email he has listed on his profile page. Besides, what can he gain from me? I’m a nobody, just an ordinary twenty-something girl from America.”
“He knows Athelia, Mom,” Paige adds. “He recognized the pattern of Kat’s gown. It’s too much of a coincidence.”
Mom sighs and crosses her arms. “Very well, darling. But there is only one condition that you can go. I will accompany you.”
“Mom! Seriously, you don’t have to do this.”
“You disappeared on us eight months ago. I am not letting you out of my sight—not until you stop moping about that husband you left. You’ve never traveled abroad, darling. You only got this passport because you needed one for Canada.”
“True.” Paige says with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m not going to waste my passport either, so I’m coming along too.”
I sense there’s no talking out of it, so I stop protesting. Mom had quit her job to take care of me, Paige doesn’t budge from her decision to defer, and besides, I am a little nervous about traveling to the UK, even though there’s no language barrier.
Paige says I went through a transformation since I received that email. Before, I was like a worm, limp and lifeless, but now I am like a chipmunk, jittery and unable to stay still for a second. At first I dashed off a super long essay-length reply, but I was worried that so many questions would put him off, so after some consideration, I decided to simply write and tell him that yes, I have been to Athelia, and if I could meet him directly in Wales.
His reply was prompt. “I imagine this is an experience that very few in this world could share. I would be honoured and pleased to meet you.”
It is a long journey, but I barely register any of it. When the plane lands in Heathrow airport, we take the Heathrow express to Paddington, then board a train to Cardiff. Another coach would take us to the university town where Professor Bartlett resides. Luckily, the locals are pretty friendly and though it’s a bit tough getting used to the Welsh accent, we have no trouble getting to the coach terminal, and hailing a taxi to take us to Professor Bartlett’s house.
He lives in a small cottage with a large rose garden surrounding it. When we arrive, the door opens before we knock. An old man looks out, his hand stretched to us. He has wrinkles all over his face and tufts of white hair peaking from his ears.
“Welcome,” he says, and his voice sounds younger than he looks. “Who of you is Miss Katherine Wilson? Ah, so it’s you, and those two are your mother and sister. It is a pleasure to have you come visit me.”
A large shepherd dog wags her tail and ambles over to us. “Patty, sit down, there’s a good girl.” Professor Bartlett walks slowly to the kitchen. “Do you take tea? Or coffee?”
Both Paige and us debate whether to help him, since he looks well over sixty, but he moves with relative ease. So we sit down on the sofa in the living room, and thank him. “Tea would be lovely,” I say. “After all, Britain is famous for its tea.”
He smiles, showing two golden teeth. “Nice to have someone who appreciates good tea.”
I think of how Edward converted me into a tea drinker, and the anguish creeps up again. I bite my lip and wonder how to initiate this conversation about Athelia.
Professor Bartlett brings us the tea on a tray,
then settles into a comfortable rocking chair.
“It’s a lovely house you have,” Mom says. “The furniture is so quaint. It’s like living in a fairy tale.”
“It’s all Maggie’s doings,” the professor says. “She passed away a few years ago. Cancer, that devilish thing. So now it’s just me and my dog.”
I notice the photos displayed on the drawing room table. One shows him with an elderly lady who must be his wife, while another portrays a younger person—a young man who shares his straw hair and blue eyes. “Is that your son?”
“Dale has moved to London since he graduated from college,” he says affably. “He used to come up to see me once in a while, but since he got married and had a child, he doesn’t come around as much. So I have to amuse myself in the gardens and with my books.” He takes a sip of tea. “Seeing your picture in the news is the most excitement I’ve had in decades.”
“How did you know about Athelia?” I say, unable to contain my curiosity.
He goes over to a bookshelf, and takes out a worn book. The title reads The Unlikely Queen.
“Perhaps this will remind you of your experience.”
I open the book, though I already have an idea of the book’s contents. Like The Ugly Stepsister, which has now disappeared, and Twice Upon A Time, the copyright and publisher information pages are all missing. It goes directly into the story, as though the book was printed and hand bound by the professor himself.
“Once upon a time,” I read aloud from the first page. “There was a great and prosperous country, Athelia, ruled by a king named Leon.”
My heart stops for a second. I know who that king is.
“It’s my father-in-law,” I say, my voice trembling. “Edward’s father.”
6
Edward
It is quiet in the suite. Katriona Bradshaw left the sitting room an hour ago for a trip to the tailors. Apparently those days in Moryn had taken a toll on her body, and Kat’s outfits are too loose on her. While I am sympathetic to what she must have went through, at the same time I abhor the idea of her wearing Kat’s clothes.
If I had my way, I would preserve Kat’s room as it is, and have Katriona Bradshaw sleep in some other room, preferably as far away from my suite as possible. But my father had decided that we should not disclose Kat’s departure to the public. After Kat left, we discussed with the Bradshaws and issued a statement that the girl who claimed to be the princess was a fraud and the case was withdrawn. Katriona Bradshaw moved into the suite, and as far as I can discern, everyone believes that Katriona Bradshaw is Kat.
“The queen wishes to see you, Your Highness,” Amelie says in the doorway.
I glance up from the mountain of paperwork on my desk. “When and where does she wish for me to meet her?”
“Right now, Your Highness. She is in her receiving room.”
Mother usually reserves her receiving room for private sessions. Last time she summoned me to the chamber was when Kat and I quarreled. She had asked me why we were behaving like strangers to each other, and told me she had expected better of me, especially only a month into my marriage. I couldn’t tell her I lost my temper due to my fear of losing Kat, but now it is of little relevance. How petty I had acted then. No matter all my efforts to win her heart, she still ended up leaving me.
“Very well,” I say. My instincts forewarn that she is going to ask me about Katriona Bradshaw. It is hardly surprising; Katriona’s behavior could not escape anyone’s eye. I do not know if this is her true nature, or that her sister has instructed her, but Katriona acts like we have done her a great wrong, and everyone is obligated to acquiesce to her wishes. Whereas Kat listens, Katriona commands. I could not have a worse person replacing my Kat.
I tell others that the princess’s unusual behavior is due to the terrible trial she suffered, but I do not know how much longer this lie will last. The sooner I can divorce her and rid her of my sight, the better. I would rather be surrounded with my memories than look upon a face similar to Kat’s but with a character so different from hers.
Walking to Mother’s is a good thing. I haven’t stood up and stretched for a while. Kat had once massaged my shoulders, when she thought I was getting stiff in my muscles, telling me she had learned this trick from her mother. I cannot deny how much I miss her touch, her fingers working on the sore spots in my shoulders. What I wouldn’t give to see her face again…
The door swings open when I approach. My mother is sitting in a low chair, a pot of tea laid out on the table. Clearly, this is meant to be a long talk. I do not relish talking to her about Katriona, but this conversation is inevitable.
Mother indicates a seat near her. She tells the servants to close the door and go about their duties. “I shall not need your services for at least a few hours.” The servants look relieved. Kat used to do that as well. She insisted on giving the servants more flexibility and made sure they did not work more than eight hours a day.
Mother pushes a cup of hot tea in front of me. “I suppose you must know why I summoned you.”
I take a sip of the hot liquid and feel my senses relax. “Pray continue.”
“How are you getting along with your new wife?”
“She is not my wife,” I say without thinking. “She is only a temporary solution for our perfect public image.”
“I see.” Mother does not attempt to persuade me to let Katriona stay, and for that I am grateful. “Have you any news of Kat?”
How I wish I did. Even if I cannot see her in person, I wish the goblins could drop by and inform me how she’s faring.
“Unfortunately...no.”
Mother drops a sugar cube in her teacup and swirls the liquid, watching the steam rise from the cup. “I have always been intrigued by Kat. Not only because she convinced you to marry, but also of her extraordinary behavior. When she moved into the palace, there were times that I could not conceive of her being from Lady Bradshaw’s household. I wonder if she has ever told you this, or perhaps I am speculating nonsense—but did she arrive from another world?”
Hot tea sloshes on my arm. I stare at her, oblivious of the wetness seeping into my sleeve. Mother hands me a napkin. Since I was five, she has refused to help me with anything I could accomplish myself. “Apparently you already know about it. She is from an incredible world where women and children have more rights.”
I cannot believe she is telling me this, her expression serene and her hands folded across her lap. “How do you know?”
Mother sighs. “It is a long story. But since Kat appeared...”
Hope rises in my heart. Can it be possible Mother could help us? “Tell me.”
“Do you remember when you were a boy, Henry’s mother had mentioned she did not expect Leon would have picked me?”
“How could I forget?” I grimace. “She was not the only one who didn’t approve of Father’s choice. I beat up a few boys who called you a country bumpkin. Too bad I cannot use my fists now; you know how the nobles sneer at Kat behind her back.”
To this day, I am offended by the jabs and insults hurled at Kat. She takes the criticism with good humor, but sometimes I wonder if I am being selfish for making her stay when she came back at twenty-four. A truly honorable gentleman would have let her return, as she seemed content with her suitor in her own world. But when she slowly fell in love and promised to stay...a sigh escapes my lips. I do not mind being selfish, if that’s what it takes to have those months with Kat.
Mother pours another cup of tea. “I did not expect I’d grow up and marry the king either. Leon was more than ten years my senior, and I always believed he’d be married before I came of age. Moreover, even if there was little difference in age, I was the mediocre child in my family. I was pretty but not eye-catching. I could sing, dance, and play the piano, but my accomplishments were nothing to brag about. My prospects for a husband were not terribly promising as the daughter of a country baron. I also had two older sisters who were more beautiful and accomplished t
han I. It came as an enormous shock that I ended up marrying your father.”
Father did not marry until he was in his late thirties. It is for this reason that people say I take after him, but very few wish that I was actually like him when it came to choosing a wife. Luckily, I fell in love at twenty-one and married at twenty-two.
“Now, the strangest thing happened to me when I was thirteen. One morning, when I brought my father his morning tea, there was something peculiar in his behavior. He did not recognize me, nor anything in his study. At first I thought he had lost his memory, but I knew it could not be that simple. He could have lost his memory, but he couldn’t have lost his character. After I questioned him a few times, he finally told me he was in fact from another world. His name was Arthur Bartlett, and he came from a strange place called Wales.”
Wales? I’ve never heard about that place. “Kat’s from Oakleigh—a city in a country called the United States of America.”
“You cannot expect that they will come from the same town or district. However, is it true that where your Kat came from, they have this strange automated carriage called a car? And they can travel through the air in a machine called an airplane?”
I nod. This Arthur Bartlett, whoever he is, must have come from the same world as Kat. She had described to me a car, an airplane, and various means of transportation I could never have dreamed of. I had thought we were most advanced of all countries, since the railroad construction was completed. But a vehicle traveling through air is beyond my comprehension.
“Mr. Bartlett had an infant son in his own world, who was playing with an old storybook. When his son nearly ripped apart the book, Mr. Bartlett snatched it from his son’s hands and the cover was torn off. He was transported to our country, and if he wanted to return to his own world, he had to fulfill a happy ending for the royal prince. And so in the beginning, he tried finding suitable candidates for your father. Like you,” she gives me a knowing look, “he was extremely picky. He liked women, but when it came to marriage, he was reluctant to find someone to settle down. It had to be a woman he would want to stay with the rest of his life, rather than someone he might be infatuated with for a few days and then find her a disappointing choice.”
