by Aya Ling
“No,” I admit. “But it will be vastly preferable than a life with Katriona Bradshaw.”
“You fool.” Father looks like he wants to say more, but a second later he shakes his head and quits the room. I shut my eyes for a second, frustrated at myself. Even when Father and I used to disagree, I had never spoken to him in such a direct manner.
Mother enters the office. “Why are you talking to your father about marriage to Kat?”
I explain to her that Kat has returned, alive and well. There is no need to conceal it from Mother, and it is likely Father will tell her later.
“Truly?” She stares at me, her eyes wide. “The goblins have found a spell that allowed her to live in Athelia in her own body?”
“The fairies, actually. I’ve arranged for her to stay with Mary. Until the time when I am free to marry.” I take a deep breath. “You have heard Father’s disapproval. Forgive me, Mother, but my heart is set on Kat. Whatever it takes to bring her back, I will do it.”
“And to think that you have a reputation of being indifferent to women,” Mother says, sitting across me. “But how will you achieve this? Legally you are married to Katriona Bradshaw.”
“That is what I am going to figure out,” I say. It seems impossible to divorce her, but it is not going to stop me from making the attempt. “I am used to insurmountable obstacles when it comes to Kat. This is merely another one we will eventually overcome.”
“Stubborn like your father, despite your different perspectives on certain matters.” Mother’s gaze falls briefly on Kat’s desk. “Is that where she used to work with you?”
“Yes.” I cannot help but smile at the memory of her striding into my office, Bertram in tow. “She was concerned for my lack of sleep, and volunteered to help my work.”
“Only a woman from Bartlett’s world is capable of doing that.” Mother folds her hands. “I believe you have been wondering why I came to your office. I thought of summoning you, but since you are at work I could not talk to you until later. And this is an idea I wish to convey to you as soon as possible.”
“Pray enlighten me.”
“Have you considered looking into Katriona’s past?”
“What led you make this suggestion?”
“I had invited her to tea a few times, as I did with Kat. When I asked her how she survived in Moryn as a poor, helpless girl, she was evasive in answering. I did not pry further; she could have had unpleasant memories before she returned to our country. I do not know if it will be of use, but you could attempt an inquiry.”
It is as if a light has appeared in a deep, dark tunnel. “I shall write to Henry immediately.”
Mother rises. “I understand that you are eager to have Kat return. However, Edward, do not forget to consider Katriona Bradshaw’s situation. She ought not be used as a pawn.”
Kat had once told me I rarely do things by halves; either I am ice-cold to a person (such as strangers) or overwhelmingly passionate to loved ones (such as her). That is one of the many reasons why I consider myself fortunate to have her. Kat makes me a better person.
19
Kat
“Kat?” Mary calls me before I go to bed. Little Joel is already fast asleep; he had a race with the other boys today. “Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?”
Translation: is Prince Edward going to meet you for a secret tryst tomorrow?
“No.” I wish it were a yes, though. It’s been a few days since he came down to the chicken coop, and I’ve found that sighing over his ring is a waste of time and makes Joel worry about the vacant look in my eyes.
“Well then,” Mary says. “If you don’t mind, there’s a favor we’d like to ask of you.”
“Anything I can do, of course,” I say automatically. It’s the least I can do for Mary letting me stay here. “Wait a moment, did you say we?”
“Bertram asked if I could act chaperone for him and Amelie. It’s his day off, and Amelie has agreed to accompany him to the city. I’d go if there were no one else, but frankly speaking I’m not fond of walking all day long and I’ve no need to go downtown.”
Ooh, that sounds fun. “Sure, I’d love to go in your place. But...why does Amelie also need a chaperone?” I thought only debutantes couldn’t go anywhere alone. Even then, I had disregarded that rule many times.
“She is nevertheless a lady’s maid and would prefer a semblance of propriety. Besides, this is the first time Bertram is taking her out, and knowing Amelie, she’d rather not be alone with him all the time, until she is comfortable around him.”
“But…” I recall how Amelie usually behaved when Bertram was around. “Shouldn’t it be the other way round? Bertram’s more likely to freeze up when Amelie is talking to him.”
“Oh no.” Mary uses the tone of an older sibling who knows something that outsiders don’t. “That’s because there’s always other people present. Amelie could be like our Ma at times, but inside she’s as simple and immature as girls of her age. She’ll need the extra company, believe me.”
* * *
The next day, I rise extra early and have a basketful of eggs collected before I race back to the cottage, have a simple wash and change into a sea-blue gown and buttoned boots. I pin my hair into a simple bun and tuck it in my hat, just to be on the safe side. I put on gloves (the omnibus lacks hygiene) and slip Edward’s new ring on my finger. The original wedding ring that cost a fortune hangs on a chain around my neck, concealed under my corset. I look older, more matronly—the perfect chaperone, haha.
Bertram arrives earlier than Amelie; Mary ran into him when she was heading out of the door. His hair is neatly combed, his tunic crisply pressed, and his boots are so shiny that I suspect that they are bought new, specifically for this occasion.
“You take good care of Amelie,” she says in a warning tone that is so like Amelie’s that no wonder they are siblings. “And Kat as well.”
“‘Course I will.” He bangs a fist on his chest. “I ain’t a member of the royal guards for nothing. You sure you’re not coming with us? The chickens can do without you for a day.”
I choke down a laugh. Mary also smiles reluctantly.
“Joel picked loads of berries with the boys yesterday, and I want to make a pie from them. You can come back when it’s ready.”
Bertram brightens, as he usually does when he hears about food. “Sounds mighty fin...” His eyes go round and he swallows, an embarrassed flush spreading over his face.
A slender figure has appeared in the doorway. Oh wow. Is this the Amelie I used to know? She has ditched the dark browns and grays she usually wears, and has put on a dainty, light blue dress with a warm cashmere shawl. She has let down her hair and it falls to her waist in smooth, glossy ringlets. There’s a wreath of tiny starflowers on her head, making her look like a nymph who has walked out of a painting. She doesn’t have any makeup, but she’s so pretty that it’s no wonder that Bertram couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even I stared at her for a tad too long for a heterosexual woman.
“Princess?” Amelie’s voice jolts me into the realization that even her tone has changed. She doesn’t sound cool and business-like. There’s an earnestness in her pretty brown eyes as she searches my face for proof that I’m Kat, not Katriona Bradshaw.
I step forward. “It’s me, Amelie. I’ve come back.”
Hope springs in her eyes; she looks relieved. “Thank heavens. It is so...different without you. When will you return to the palace?”
“His Highness is working on it.” Bertram has found his tongue. “Won’ be long, I expect.”
“I highly doubt it. That lady is determined to stay.” Amelie frowns when she mentions Katriona Bradshaw. “His Highness has talked to her many times. He made it clear he has no need of her, but she remains unmoved. Nothing will induce her to give up the position as princess.”
Bertram scratches his head. “Do you think is possible I can threaten her in some way? I could give her a blow in the stomach if she doesn’t
agree to step down.”
“No,” Amelie says with an are-you-an-idiot look. “Your strength may work in other cases, but not in this one. Save your strength for defending thugs, rather than using it on a lady who could put you in jail.”
Bertram looks crestfallen. I’m touched by their concern for me, though at the same time, I feel sorry for Katriona Bradshaw. It was the king’s idea that she move into the palace, and now they want her gone.
“Shall we go now?” I say, slinging my bag over my shoulder.
“Right.” Bertram offers his arm to Amelie. “We’d better get going if we want to get tickets for the show.”
Amelie hesitates before taking his arm, as primly as if she were a debutante. Bertram is positively glowing as he struts down the path leading away from the cottage. I have to look away to keep myself from bursting into laughter; they are such an adorable pair. If only Edward were here. We could make it a double date.
“So what’s this show you’re planning to see?” I ask, considering using this chance to slip away and give them some privacy together. Even a chaperone shouldn’t be accompanying them all the time.
“A pantomime.” Bertram glances at Amelie. “It premiered a month ago but we didn’t have time to see it. Wouldn’t want to miss it in case the company stops the production.”
“Have you been particularly busy lately?” I ask.
Bertram and Amelie look at each other. Interestingly, Bertram looks Amelie in the eye without blushing.
“I’ve been accompanying His Highness more frequently, ‘cause he wants to get away from the palace. And from her, I reckon.”
“Mabel and I had to adjust some of your clothes and have the tailors make new gowns for the other lady,” Amelie says. “She looks like you, but her measurements are not the same, and her taste in clothes is more...complicated. She constantly criticized the fashion I used to dress you in.” Amelie pauses, as if she cannot find the right words to say. Finally, she lets out a puff of air. “I wish you were back.”
“She will be,” Bertram says stoutly. “His Highness is too much a gentleman. If you ask me, I’d have ordered her pack her things straight away.”
“Not everything can work out through force and strength,” Amelie chides him. “We’d be glad—relieved—to have Princess Kat back, but there’s a proper way to do things.”
To avoid further discussion of the future, I change the subject. “Actually, I’ve been thinking of visiting Poppy when you go to the play. Really, I don’t mind—theatre isn’t my thing. You’ll have more fun without me.”
Bertram tries not to look too pleased at my suggestion. “If you wish, Princess Kat.”
Amelie, however, wrinkles her forehead. As usual, she is the cautious one. “But since we’re not on the palace grounds, His Highness will need you to keep an eye on her.”
“I’ll be fine,” I insist, deciding not to mention I had gone shopping alone a few days ago. “Nothing will happen while I am at Poppy’s. And I miss my best friend.”
Amelie hesitates. “You’ll let us accompany you to the door. And we’ll come back to fetch you after the play.”
“Done.”
* * *
During the times I was in Athelia, I’ve only taken the omnibus a few times—on the rare occasions I couldn’t have Van drive for me. Last time I took the omnibus downtown, it was crowded, stuffy and dirty. Passengers often shove you aside, and once I got poked by an umbrella. Luckily, Bertram dispels most trouble. His huge frame carves a wide path for us following close behind. A toothless old man was leering at Amelie, but he abruptly shut his mouth and looked away when Bertram sat next to her. I’ve a sudden urge to do a fist bump with him.
As the omnibus rumbles on the street, I can’t help thinking again that Bertram and Amelie look so cute together. He’s blushing and staring at the ground, while she crosses her arms and tries to act uninterested. I’ve got to get to Poppy’s house soon and let them have the chance to be alone.
I am greeted by the sound of babies wailing when the maid opens the door. She stares at me, dumbfounded. “Your… Your Highness? Is that you?”
“Could you please tell Poppy that Kat has arrived?” I say, deciding not to clarify that I am not princess. “Kat, not Katriona Bradshaw.”
She looks puzzled, but seeing Bertram and Amelie behind me, she hurries off. A moment later, a blur of gray charges towards me and two sticky arms loop me in a tight embrace.
“Kat! Oh my God, Kat! It’s really you! You came back!” Poppy leans back and gazes at me, her smile wide and radiant, but I detect a sign of exhaustion in the redness of her eyes. “Elle told me you returned by a miracle. Oh, I just KNEW you had to come back. You and His Highness are destined to be together.”
Amelie touches my elbow. “We’ll be back in the afternoon, Princess Kat.”
“Of course,” I smile at her and Bertram. “Have a wonderful time, you two.”
As Poppy ushers me into the sitting room, I tell her about my ‘chaperoning.’ She catches on quickly, as she also knows about Amelie and Bertram.
“So they finally are having an outing together,” she says, beaming. “Bertram must be overjoyed that his wish is coming true. But didn’t you say Amelie is against marriage? Why is she recently warming up to him?”
“I don’t know.” Amelie is good at hiding her feelings; I can’t remember when she became more receptive of Bertram’s advances. “Maybe he did something touching that made her open her heart.”
“Or maybe she was inspired by His Highness.” Poppy grins. “He should be proof enough that there are men who will cherish you and...”
A baby’s wail comes from upstairs, followed by the maid pleading that she can’t handle two at a time.
Poppy groans. “There they go again! I swear, the twins will be the death of me!”
“Let me help you,” I say quickly. I had experience helping Mom when Paige was a baby, and also I did babysitting in college.
We rush to the bedroom, where a scene of perfect chaos unfolds. The maid is trying to calm a screaming Sébastien in his cot, while Little Katriona is crawling across the floor, leaving a trail of spilled milk in her wake. A bottle, overturned, is lying against the leg of a table.
Poppy puts a hand on her forehead, like she is on the verge of collapsing. She must have been exhausted taking care of the twins. I decide to take charge of the situation.
I hail the maid. “Can you get some cloths and clear up the mess? Poppy, maybe you can change Little Katriona’s clothes? I’ll take care of Sébastien.”
A moment later, order is restored. I pacify Sébastien by feeding him some milk from another bottle (as with twins, their possessions come in twos), and singing him Beyonce’s Love on Top. The maid has wiped up the milk on the floor and brought a new bottle. Poppy stripped Little Katriona of her soiled dress, scolded her for her sodden state, and dressed her in fresh clothes.
“It’s Little Katherine, by the way,” Poppy says, depositing the baby in the crib. “Because that is your real name.”
I smile at her, touched. “You need more rest, Poppy. I can’t imagine you having to deal with two babies with only one servant. Can’t you hire more people?” From what I’ve learned of Athelia, it’s easy to ‘get a girl’ for domestic help.
“Oh, we took an ad in the paper just a while ago. That reminds me...I need to go through the mail after the babies go to sleep.” Poppy wipes her forehead. “I knew marriage was tough, but oh my…” a saddened look appears in her face, and she lowers her voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell anyone, Kat. I love Sébastien and Little Katherine with all my heart, but sometimes I wish I don’t have to see their faces all day, all night.”
“Don’t you ever have a break?”
She shakes her head. “Only when my parents, or the in-laws visit. A friend of Jonathan’s has a child who was mistreated by his nurse, so Jonathan got the notion he can’t have the babies left entirely in the care of the maids. Either he or I must stay in the house all t
he time. But Jonathan has been so busy lately—his services has been in real demand since he defended you in court—so I have to stay in most of the time.”
“Maybe I can come over more often,” I say. “Seriously, I don’t have much to do. I can help you take care of the twins.”
Poppy brightens visibly, but then frowns. “But since you’re in the palace now, won’t it be a matter of time before you can be reunited with His Highness?”
“It’s not that simple.” Quickly, I relate to her about the difficulties of divorce, which are especially hard as I’m no longer part of the aristocracy.
“I don’t even know if he can get a divorce,” I say, trying not to look depressed. Unless Katriona commits adultery, which is impossible, there will be little reason for divorce. And what will the public say if they learn that the prince divorced his wife, after only a year of marriage, and married a lowly commoner? I already had a fair share of disapproval from the aristocrats when I married Edward as the second daughter of Earl Bradshaw.
“Oh dear.” Poppy catches my hand. “I’m so sorry to hear that. But I believe in His Highness. He will find a way to marry you again. He will.”
I squeeze her fingers, grateful for her support. It was already a miracle that I’m allowed to return. All we need is another miracle.
20
Edward
I can hardly wait to be done with breakfast. Today I have a ‘date’ (Kat told me it stood for a romantic outing in her world) with Kat; I had sent her a message through Amelie, that I wanted to take her to The Bookworm. We need Wellesley’s promise to vouch for her new Athelian identity, as it’s ludicrous to tell the public that Kat is from another world and transformed into an Athelian through fairy magic.
“Edward. Edward.” Katriona’s voice rouses me. I had been thinking of Kat—just a while longer and I could be holding her in my arms, listening to her delightful talk and quirky manners. I barely noticed Katriona’s attempt to engage my attention.
