by Aya Ling
The curtains are drawn up in the carriage. It is barely dawn, the light breaking over the horizon. Yet there are already sounds of horses trotting, of people hawking their wares in the streets. A few young men who look like scholars, judging from the long black cloaks they wear, are heading in the direction of the Royal Institute.
I adjust the wig on my head and enter the carriage. Instantly, I am seized by the waist and deposited on someone’s lap.
Edward.
I gaze at him as if it has been twenty years we have been apart. He looks thinner, paler, and there are dark areas under his eyes. When is the last time he had a good night’s sleep? Gently, I touch the darkness under his right eye. “You look terrible.”
A noise comes from his throat. “This is the first thing you say to me when you come back?”
“Edward, we already talked last night at the masque.”
“In private,” he amends.
“Because you are looking even worse than when we had those nightly conversations.” I glare at him. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself.”
“And whose fault is it?” He yanks my wig off, and my red hair spills over my shoulders. “Gods above,” he whispers. “Last night wasn’t a dream. You have really come back to me.”
This time I let the tears come. I gather his face in my hands and kiss him. He fastens his arms around my back, pressing me close to his body, and responds with such ferocity that I’ve no doubt my lips will be bruised and ruby-red. It goes on so long that I have to break away from him with a cough.
“Didn’t the fairies cure you of your breathing problem?” There is alarm in his voice.
“Of course, but a kiss as long as that would always take my breath away.”
“Hmm.” He draws his thumb over my lips. “Then we need to practice more.”
I flush, a wave of heat and pleasure washing over me at the ardent desire in his tone. “I’d love that.”
Edward smiles, pleased at my answer, and kisses me again. “I wish that we didn’t have to separate so soon. If I could get away with it, I would swap you with Katriona Bradshaw and have you back by my side, but we must be patient.” He places his hands on my shoulders. “Listen carefully. I have arranged for Bertram to accompany you back to Athelia, on the pretense that his mother had suddenly taken ill. You are to pose as his elder sister. You will need to board a ship, which will take several days, and then Bertram will escort you to Amelie’s sister.”
“Amelie? Is she here or in Athelia?”
“She is here, as Katriona Bradshaw needs assistance.” He says the words like they are lemon rind in his mouth. “I would prefer to have her accompany you as well, but that would arouse suspicion. I can spare Bertram, but Katriona Bradshaw cannot do without Amelie.”
Edward retrieves a bag lying under the carriage seat. “You cannot wear that gown for days, so I asked Amelie pack a change of clothes. Do not ask me how she managed it, I have no idea. Also, there’s a letter I’ve written for Mary. I have told her to take you under her wing. She owes me a debt and is unlikely to refuse.”
Before Edward and I married, I had moved into the palace and Amelie became my maid. Anyone could see that Bertram (and several other young men) were smitten by her, but she had always remained cool and distant. I had asked Amelie why she isn’t interested in men, and she told me it’s because of her sister. Her sister suffered from domestic abuse and had to apply for a divorce, even though it’s not widely practiced in Athelia. It is her sister’s misfortune that made Amelie reluctant to open her heart.
“What’s the debt she owes you?”
“Her husband beat her whenever he was in a bad mood, even when she was pregnant. There was an occasion I happened to witness him shouting at her, and she was trying to protect her belly from his foot. I stopped him from assaulting her and got a restraining order. She gave birth shortly after, and I am certain that if it weren’t for me, she might not have survived, nor her child.”
“Her husband is despicable,” I say emphatically. No wonder that Amelie’s sister had to get divorced. “And because of him, Amelie is wary of commitment.”
“I believe she has been more friendly towards Bertram of late, but let us focus on our future now.” Edward tightens his arms around me and sighs. “I don’t want you to go, Kat.”
“I can stay,” I say brightly. “Maybe I can pretend to be a maid along Amelie?”
A light flashes in his eyes, but he shakes his head. “Too much of a risk. If that scum of the emperor’s brother discovers you and the news leaks out, you’ll never be able to return to Athelia. Stay with Mary; lie low for a while. I am sorry that you cannot live as comfortably as before, but I want you safe above everything.”
I lay my head against his chest, my heart filled with warmth and affection. This is why I’ve come back to Athelia.
* * *
Bertram bows when Edward lifts me off the carriage. I think it’s because of his simple nature—as long as Edward is happy, he won’t care who I am.
“Hello, Bertram.” I give him a tentative smile. “Thanks for agreeing to accompany me back to Athelia.” Not that he has a choice—I doubt Bertram has ever thought of refusing an order from Edward—but I feel like thanking him anyway.
“’Tis nothing to mention about, Princess Kat. Always pleased to serve you.”
I stare at him. “Bertram, you know I’m not the princess anymore.”
He shrugs. “His Highness sees you as princess, not that other lady who looks like you.”
“Not in front of others,” Edward says curtly. “Remember what I told you. For the journey, you will call her Katherine, or Kat.”
Bertram gulps and nods. “Yes, of course.”
“You’re his older sister now,” Edward tells me. “Boss him around and treat him as you would do to your little sister.”
I can’t help laughing at his comparing Bertram to Paige. They cannot be further opposites.
We make slow progress to the dock. Both Edward and I are reluctant to part. We’ve been separated for months, and we’ve only had a dance last night and a carriage ride this morning. It’s not enough. It will never be enough.
When we reach the end of the dock, where the ship is waiting, Bertram heads in the direction of the ticket collector, but Edward holds up his hand.
“Just a moment.” Edward pulls me close. “Bertram, I trust that you will protect her throughout the journey. Remember, when you arrive, the first thing is to bring her to Mary without delay.”
Bertram places a hand over his heart. “Yes, Your Highness. You can count on me always.”
“When will you come back to Athelia?” I say, reluctant to let go of his hand.
“The Moryn wedding festivities will end in a few days. I shall return and come for you then. It will be at least a week until we can see each other.”
I smile, but inside I’m a bunch of nerves. Being caught by Jérôme has made me realize how powerless I am without Edward’s protection. “I can’t wait to see you when you return.”
“I cannot wait until I have you reinstalled by my side.” Swiftly he lowers his head and kisses me, right in front of Bertram. “Stay safe.”
Since we’ve already made a public spectacle, I bury my face in his chest and hold him close. “I’ll be counting the days.”
Somewhere, there is the sound of a whistle.
“You have to go,” Edward says, and the reluctance in his eyes is only too obvious. I am reminded of that night when we returned from our honeymoon and had dinner with the king and queen. Edward had gotten drunk and tried to kiss me. He had pleaded with me that I not leave him. There is the same look of love and longing in his eyes now. This time, my expression mirrors his.
“Er, Katherine...Kat? Sorry, but looks like we’ve got to leave.” Bertram points at the ticket-collector, who is waving and yelling that the passengers must board now.
It is then I am able to tear myself away from Edward, trying not to think about the difficult fut
ure ahead. With Katriona Bradshaw by his side, and with the difficulty of obtaining a divorce, I don’t know how long it will take before we can be officially united again.
I go a few paces, when something occurs to me and I turn. Edward is still there, right where I left him, his eyes drinking me in like I’m the only person on the dock.
“Edward.” I call. “I’m glad to be home.”
His eyes widen when I say ‘home’—it is the first time I’ve ever called his world home. A muscle moves in his throat, a fierce desire springs in his eyes, and he looks like he wants to hop on board with me.
But then his self-discipline takes over and he sends me a heartfelt smile. “Welcome home.”
16
Kat
The journey across the sea to Athelia isn’t pleasant, without running water or electricity, but what’s more difficult is that I have to conceal my identity and pretend that I am middle-class. Surprisingly, Bertram fares worse—he got seasick. It’s alarming to see a huge man like him looking green and vulnerable. One day he threw up after a lunch of fish and chips. Grabbing some washcloths, I help him clean up the mess, much to his shock and embarrassment.
“You shouldn’t, Princess Kat!”
“Hush.” I put a finger to my lips. “We’re supposed to be brother and sister. It would look suspicious if I didn’t help you.”
Bertram lets go of my arm, but he remains apprehensive. “You won’t tell His Highness that you cleaned up for me?”
I don’t see how it matters, but seeing him distressed, I nod.
He tells me that ever since ‘that other lady’ moved in, Edward has never cracked a smile. “Every time I see him, he reminds me of a ghost. I haven’t seen any ghost, but I’m quite sure he looks like one. Like he reges…ragre…”
“Regressed?”
“Right, so that’s the word. He has regressed into depression, and it troubles us so.” Bertram looks uncommonly pensive—to be honest, a pensive Bertram is a comical Bertram. “I grew up with him, prince… Kat, and never did I see him so miserable. I heard Duke Henry mention that he wants to relinquish the throne.”
“Are you telling me that Edward doesn’t want to inherit the crown?”
Bertram nods. I bite my lip and tamp down a noise of frustration. I don’t want Edward giving up his duties. But then, considering the zombie state I was in when I left Athelia, I’m in no position to throw stones.
“The king’s unlikely to let him step down, so I’m mighty glad you came back.”
“So you don’t think I’m a witch?” I tease.
“If you were, you could’ve cleaned up my mess with a spell. You needn’t have squatted on the floor and wiped it up.” Bertram breaks into a grin. “When His Highness told me you’re back and I should escort you to Mary’s, it’s like he was back to life, you could see it in his eyes. So glad you came back, Prin…Kat.”
* * *
A harsh wind rattles my bones when we arrive in Athelia. There are piles of frozen snow on the ground, and sailors shoveling snow on the dock. My teeth are chattering—how come it’s so much colder in Athelia?
“The winter’s brutal this year,” Bertram says, noticing me shiver. He takes off his coat and drapes it around me. “Nah, don’ worry about me, I’m built of sturdier stuff. You can give it back when I get the carriage.”
Bertram heads off to hire a carriage. I scramble into the vehicle as soon as he drives up, glad to get out of the chilly wind.
As the familiar scenes of the city come into sight, I feel like crying. Months ago, I had left with regret. And now I’m back. Back in this world that doesn’t have electricity, Internet, or modern appliances. It’s a world less developed compared to my own, and yet I’m happy to be back. I can understand how Claire felt when she chose Jamie in Outlander. When I think of a life with Jason in Portland, compared to a life with Edward here in Athelia, I’m struck by how bland the former is. I chose a life of excitement and challenging work, over my other one which would have been normal, stable, but boring. And it’s worth it. Edward is worth it.
We don’t enter the palace through the gates. Instead, Bertram takes me through another door that bypasses the courtyard and straight into the gardens. We pass the greenhouse, the menagerie, and reach a cottage sitting on the edge of a meadow. Beyond the meadow is a row of tall trees and low houses. From the tour that Edward had given me before, I know those houses belong to the palace farm, which consists of the royal dairy, chicken coop, and poultry yards. His grandfather loved breeding roosters for cockfighting. However, when King Leon started his reign, the royal farm has become more utilitarian. Instead of cockfighting, they now concentrate on breeding hens that can lay good eggs.
“Mary lives here with her son Joel,” Bertram says. “She’s one of the workers in the chicken coop. She collects eggs, cleans the coop, and feeds the chickens.”
Looking around the royal farm, which manages to look rustic and idyllic despite belonging to the palace, I understand why Edward decided to have me stay with Mary. The farm is far enough to keep me from running into Katriona Bradshaw, but close enough that Edward can keep an eye on me. And if Mary is similar to Amelie in character, she must be honest and trustworthy.
A young boy around five or six opens the cottage door. His eyes remind me of Amelie, and he has such adorable rosy cheeks that I’ve an urge to pinch him.
“Mama!” He cries. “Bertram is here with a lady!”
“Joel!” Bertram heaves the little boy into the air. The latter screams in delight as Bertram tosses him up and down with ease. “Higher! I want to go higher!”
A woman in her late twenties appears at the door, hands on hips. “Joel, stop making such a noise.”
Mary looks like an older version of Amelie. Her features are more angular, but there’s the same sternness in her eyes, and the briskness as she walks. “Who are you…” she stiffens, her mouth slightly open. “Your Highness?”
I extract the letter from Edward. “Edward...I mean, His Highness, asked me to give this to you.”
“The prince sent you?”
Mary reads the letter and purses her lips. “Are you that girl Lady Pembroke brought to court?”
“Of course not.” My lip curls in disgust when I think of Bianca. “It was a misunderstanding.”
“His Highness requests you take her in for a while,” Bertram says. “He’ll explain when he comes back.”
Mary still looks hesitant. “If you’re not that girl Lady Pembroke brought, then who are you? You look remarkably like the princess.”
“My name is Katherine Wilson.” When Katriona Bradshaw returns, it’s going to get out that I’m not Bianca’s sister, so I might as well tell the truth. Besides, it’s a relief that I can use my own name. There were times that I felt it wrong to take Katriona Bradshaw’s identity. Now I can be myself.
“And you are a noble woman?”
I hesitate. “A commoner, but gently bred.”
She folds up the letter, then places the coin bag on the table. “You may stay here, of course, but it’s unnecessary for His Highness to pay me. I already owe him my life and Joel’s as well. Sit down, please. Joel, stop scuffing your shoe on the ground, you’ll wear out the toe and I won’t be patching it up. Did you have any supper?”
Bertram looks like he has been waiting for that magic word. “Can I get a bite?”
And so we sit down to a hearty meal. Mary asks about Moryn, which Bertram supplies a colorful account. While she doesn't gush with friendliness and warmth, I feel like I could trust her. Like Amelie. When dinner is over, I offer to wash the dishes. Mary protests that I am a guest, but I insist that I need to do something.
“Joel can sleep with me,” Mary says. “I’m afraid you’ll have to take the storage room. There’s no fireplace, but I’ll get you a mattress and some bedding.”
“I’m sure I’ll be comfortable. I’ve been sleeping in a cabin on the ship for the past week. It was cramped and stuffy, not to mention the ship kept toss
ing and sinking with the tide. It’s a miracle I didn’t get seasick.”
“I did,” Bertram says, looking embarrassed.
Mary looks at him, amused. “And here I thought you were invincible.”
After helping us set up a makeshift bed in the storage room, Bertram announces he has to go, remarking that he’s glad to be back in Athelia. “The wedding was most interesting, but nothing beats your own bed and a good simple meal. Those Moryn pastries are a mite too rich fer my stomach.”
He also makes me promise I’d let him know if I have any problems. “His Highness trusted me to take care of you, Kat.”
“Thank you, Bertram.” I smile at him. “I’ll be fine here.”
The storage room is small and cluttered, but a teeny bit warmer than other rooms—one thing I appreciate in the cold weather. Drawing up the blankets to my chin, I wish Edward was beside me. I miss snuggling against him and enjoying the warmth from his body. I miss his kisses and caresses, whether they may be tender or passionate. Most of all, I miss a life with Edward in it.
Be patient, I tell myself. Edward and I have been through so many obstacles already. We’ll get through this eventually and reach that elusive happily-ever-after.
* * *
“Can I come to the hen house with you?”
Mary pauses in the doorway. She arches an eyebrow. “You want to come with me?”
“I’d like to help. If you don’t mind.”
“Katherine, His Highness asked me to take care of you as our guest. Not as an assistant helper.”
“Yes, but I hate being useless, and I can’t go out until His Highness returns. Let me do something for you.”
It has been two days since I came to Mary’s house. As a single mother, she has to work during the day, while also taking care of the cooking and cleaning. I do my best to help, but I’m an embarrassing disaster. When I try my hand at cooking, I keep coughing from the fumes, though when I get out of the cottage, I’m back to normal. The most I can do is break the eggs and whip them up—even Joel can do that. I’m sure I can get better with practice, but seeing that I’m giving Mary more work to do with my clumsiness, I have to stop.
