by Aya Ling
“Pardon me.” I force myself to return to the present. Across the table, Father sends me a stern, disapproving look. Mother’s glance is less berating, but it’s a warning look nevertheless. For a moment I am embarrassed of my behavior; I should not let Kat crack my self-discipline, at least not in company.
Katriona Bradshaw looks hurt. “I was merely inquiring if you would like to attend the horticultural exhibition next week. They have sent us an invitation. According to tradition, we are to cut the ribbon and perform introductions.”
“I am afraid I cannot go.” In the beginning I had enjoyed the flower show, which was actually my idea, but since I became of age, I was less enamored of it. Rarely could I stroll around and admire a rare species without a scheming mother trying to introduce me to her daughter. “I have much to do.”
“Edward.” Father narrows his eyes. “You have been drowning yourself in work as of late. Use this opportunity to take some time off.”
“My most sincere apologies, but I fear that I cannot comply. Besides, you are well aware that the flower show is usually crowded; it would hardly be a relaxing place to visit. I would far prefer a stroll in the gardens.”
At that moment, a servant enters and hands me a letter from Henry. I rip it open, hoping it contains good news. Unfortunately, it does not contain what I was hoping for.
“Who is it from?” Father asks.
“Henry.” I fold the letter and tuck it in my pocket.
“Wasn’t it only a while ago that you met him in Moryn?”
“I wish to be better informed of his life there,” I say, hoping that Father will not realize anything suspicious in it. “I am sorry to say his report is not favorable. Due to the emperor’s attempt to cut costs, the funding at his university has been reduced by fifty percent.”
“Hmm.” Father frowns. “A foolhardy move, I would say. Medical research may be costly, but many lives could be saved by one innovation.”
I remember how proud Henry was when one of his professors discovered the cure for cholera. “Augustin has spent an exceedingly high sum on his wedding. He built a new palace for his wife as a wedding present.”
“Ah.” Mother turns to Father, a questioning look in her gaze. “Did not the Moryn finance minister send a loan request a while ago?”
“Well do I remember that.” Father drains his mug of coffee. “It was a difficult request. Our own budgets have been stretched, especially after more Acts have been passed, and I do not believe the Moryn emperor is able to repay the loan soon. I doubt his new wife is capable of astute financial management either.”
We discuss the Moryn financial crisis for a while, until I finish the last croissant on my plate. Eager to see Kat, I set my napkin on the table and stand up.
“Katriona.”
Her eyes are glazed; she had not taken the slightest interest in our conversation about Moryn. On my second attempt to engage her attention, she blinks. “Oh! Please forgive me—I...I was thinking. Of some other things.”
I glance at Father and raise an eyebrow. I am not the only inattentive one at breakfast. “Please convey my deepest apologies to the organizer of the flower show. If he so desires and you are inclined, feel free to take my place as the ribbon-cutter.”
She looks up at me, her eyes wide. “But I cannot go alone.”
“Then I suggest you find something else to occupy your time. Pardon me, but I must be off.” I nod at Father and Mother and take my leave, doing my best to conceal my eagerness. It has been several days since I had seen Kat; already, I need her presence to replenish my soul.
* * *
I find her walking briskly in the direction of the omnibus stop, her luxuriant hair concealed in a bonnet. With the ring sparkling on her finger, no one will take her for an unattached woman. Good. While Kat is incredulous that I would take such precautions, I know circumstances are different with commoners. Young aristocrats have the rank and wealth to pick and choose, but most other men would not be immune to a pretty, spirited maid like Kat.
Bertram stops the horses even before I needed to alert him. I open the carriage door and call her name. At the sound of my voice, she turns and her face glows. Really, whoever thought she was plain needs to have his eyesight checked.
“Get in.”
She hesitates. “But I’m not supposed to…” I step out, lift her up by the armpits, and deposit her in the carriage. Then I slam the door and latch it.
“Worry not,” I say. “We are going downtown. You’ll waste more time taking the omnibus. And even if you are recognized, there is no cause to worry, as you will be taken for the princess.”
She gives me a half-exasperated look. “You. Are. A. Barbarian.”
It is the first time that someone called me barbaric. Kat never fails to amuse me. I place my hands on both sides of her head, trapping her in the corner of the seat. The curtains are fully drawn; the carriage walls are thick. A perfect camouflage for what I have in mind. “You call hauling you into the carriage barbaric? That was only the tip of the iceberg.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Edward, you’re not going to…”
I kiss her, pressing my body into hers, running my hands over places that would have made her gasp, had not my mouth covered hers completely. She responds willingly; she winds her arms around me and tangles her fingers in my hair, pulling me closer. How I wish I could remove the layers of clothing she’s wearing; it has been months since we shared a bed, and my craving for her has escalated.
But the risk is too great. Pulling away with great reluctance, I help her into a sitting position and retrieve her scarf, concealing any trace of desire that marked her skin. There’s a sparkle remaining in her eyes, her lips moist and pink, and a contented smile that tells me she enjoyed our passionate encounter. She looks so adorable and tempting that I cannot help stealing another kiss before forcing myself settle in my seat. I thank the stars she did not have her memories erased this time.
* * *
We arrive at The Bookworm, hand in hand. Wellesley is arranging a few books in front of the store. He looks up; surprise flits in his eyes, but then he smiles.
“It has been a long time since either of you visited.”
I step forward. “May we talk to you in private? I have a matter of utter importance.”
Wellesley looks confused, but readily complies. He fetches a lanky young man across the street to mind the store, then he leads the way downstairs, to the basement where we used to discuss the Eight-Hour Act.
Kat’s hand grows sweaty, but I merely tighten my grip, letting her know she is not alone.
Wellesley closes the door and bolts it. He comes towards us and sits down, an inquiring gaze in his eyes.
I place my elbows on the table and lean forward. “I apologize for interrupting your work, but there is a crucial matter I must ask of you.”
“I am not certain what I can do that you cannot, but Your Highness can depend on me to fulfill whatever you ask to the best of my abilities.”
Kat and I look at each other. I take a deep breath and start to speak.
Wellesley furrows his brow—the lines grow deeper and deeper. By the time I finish, the lines in his brow are so pronounced that it is as if they were carved in wood.
“What you’re saying...the lass has recovered from her illness? Then who is it in the palace?”
“An imposter,” I say, but Kat interrupts me. “The woman in the palace is the real daughter of Lady Bradshaw. When I had to leave, believing that I could never return, the king had requested a temporary measure: bring Katriona Bradshaw into the palace.”
Wellesley stares at Kat; his expression remains suspicious. “I thought there was something fishy when you wrote me that letter. I didn’t understand why you chose to leave, when there are many excellent doctors in the country, and that the prince would have done anything to have you survive.”
“The reasons are complicated,” I say. “A miracle has allowed Kat live. She is in perfect health and intends
to stay for good. Let me reassure you that no harm will affect your relation to her. You will not be harboring a hunted fugitive or wanted criminal.”
“That is of little concern.” Wellesley looks at me. “I know the lass has a good heart. It is that the request has been quite a surprise. All this time I have believed she was the overlooked daughter of an earl, and here she is, a commoner of unknown origin. This, I suppose, explains why her attitude and behavior have been singular among young aristocratic ladies.”
“Please.” I sound desperate; I suppose I must look the same. “Kat needs to have an identity. One that is legitimate and acceptable. Kat frequented this place before we married; it would make sense she is related to you.”
“There is one problem, however.” His expression remains grave. “Even if I accept, how am I to explain to others that my granddaughter was formerly known as Earl Bradshaw’s step daughter?”
“I am working on it,” I say. “I have a plan. If that is taken care of, will you be willing to accept Kat?”
Mr. Wellesley adjusts his glasses. “It’d be my pleasure to be associated with a lass as fine as she.” He smiles at Kat, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath. “Katherine...Wilson, is it? I suppose we’d better start by teaching you my family history.”
Kat steps forward and hugs him. It is one of the few instances I would not mind her embracing another man.
“It’s my pleasure too,” she says, a bright smile on her face. “There’s no one else I’d rather have as a relative in Athelia.”
21
Kat
I’m glad that our meeting with Mr. Wellesley went well. If only everything else could be as successful. I’ve still no idea how we can convince Katriona Bradshaw to agree to a divorce, short of breaking the law, and there are so many other problems as well.
When we leave The Bookworm and head to the carriage, Edward stops for a second. He strides over to a young girl with a basket hanging over her arm. I follow him, and receive a shock.
“Molly?”
The girl looks up at me, and there’s a flash of surprise in her eyes, followed by a wide grin. “Princess! Haven’t seen you for a while.”
“She’s been busy,” Edward says, reaching into his pocket. “A bunch of violets for my lady.”
“‘Course, sir. She’ll look real pretty with flowers.” Molly is grinning despite the cold. Her nose is red and she’s hunchbacked while wearing a threadbare shawl. God, it’s spring already, but it’s nevertheless freezing. I remember that this time of the year should be warm and balmy, Parliament is in early session, and debutantes are getting ready to be presented at court.
“Nell isn’t here with you?” I ask.
“She had to stay with Wilkie today.”
“Wilkie?”
“Her baby. We’re naming him after our brother, who’s dead.” Molly hands me the violets. They are wilted and drooping, but I cradle them in my hands. “We’ve got to be careful, it’s easy for him to catch cold in this weather.”
“Kat.” Edward touches my arm. “I’m afraid we have to go. I’m sorry, but I have a meeting with the ministers.”
“Take care.” I drop a kiss on Molly’s forehead and using my forefinger, I wipe away a smudge of dirt from her cheek. One day, she will be off these streets.
Edward bundles me into the carriage. He knows what I’m thinking; he speaks before I open my mouth. “There is little I can do for her sister’s baby or her father, but I’ve asked Wellesley to keep an eye on her.”
I lay my head on his shoulder. “I know you’ve been doing your best, Edward. It’s just...I wish I could do something instead of buying flowers for her.”
“You have done a lot already. Remember the proposal you once drafted for compulsory education? I adapted it and wrote an article, which has sparked discussion among many intellectuals. While it isn’t as sensational as your interview of the factory children, I am confident that compulsory education will become enforced one day.”
“And it will be only the first step,” I say, recalling the many difficulties that Princess College had. I had seen the building last time I went downtown. I hated the front gate closed shut with a large padlock on it. When will the school be opened again? When will I see the girls reciting in class or flocking in the corridors, instead of huddling in the snow-clad streets?
Edward plucks a violet and pins the flower on my hair. “Don’t be disheartened, love. There are also many others working hard to achieve our goals. And when you’re princess, you’ll have even more power and influence to do good work.”
But we don’t know how and when I can be princess again. And then I remember running into Elle, and that she had formed a Children’s Education League. If I can’t figure out how to deal with Katriona Bradshaw, I’ll see what I can do with realizing compulsory education for Athelia’s children.
* * *
The Hungry Boar is an inn located smack bang in the city centre. A glance at the boisterous crowd inside tells me it caters to a lower-middle-class/upper-lower-class background. It’s actually not that different from the spicy food restaurant that Edward used to take me out for dinner. God, I miss those days.
The barmaid barely spares me a glance as she squeezes by, balancing a tray of empty mugs. I have to raise my voice or she would have gone on.
“Sorry, but would you mind telling me where the meeting for children’s education is held? I’m told that they have a schedule today in here.”
“Over there in the back.” She grumbles with a jerk of her chin. For a split second, I wish Edward was here with me. I’m sure that the barmaid wouldn’t be so indifferent .
I find the conference room in the back—well, technically it’s not a room, but rather partitioned off the main area. There’s a cluster of tables; I make my way to an empty chair, when I spot Elle, who’s distributing printed sheets.
“You came!” Surprised delight floods her pretty face, as though she couldn’t believe I’d show up. “It’s lovely to see you, Kat. Sit here with me?”
“Thanks.” I take off my coat; thankfully it’s warm and toasty in here. “What’s on the agenda?”
“We’re trying to calculate how many petitions we’ve had so far, and what we can do to improve.” Elle hands me a sheet. There’s a headline, tagline, and a short paragraph—I recognize a few phrases from my proposal. On the bottom of the sheet is a space for signing one’s name. “Our aim is to accumulate over a thousand, so the members of parliament will recognize this is a cause many people care about. His Highness was among the first to sign.” A smile blossoms on her lips. “Henry also signed. His Highness was kind enough to obtain his signature, so I wouldn’t have to worry about the sheet getting lost in mail.”
“That’s great.” I ask her for a pen and sign ‘Katherine Wilson’ on the sheet. I also inform her in a low voice that I now have an identity—Mr. Wellesley’s adopted granddaughter. “There, you have one more. How many do we have so far?”
Elle purses her lips. “Only a little over three hundred, but Parliament has only just begun. We still have a few months to gather enough signatures.”
The tables gradually fill up with the other members of the Children’s Education League. Some of them give off a scholarly air—I guess they’re from the University. A few well-dressed ladies who seem to be upper middle-class. Several men in overalls—I recognize Una’s uncle, who was also involved in the child labor campaign.
Elle bangs a fist on the table, which surprises me. She has come a long way from the shy, soft-spoken girl who never dared to contradict her employers.
“May I have your attention?” She waits until everyone ceases talking and continues to speak. “Thank you for coming today. I appreciate that you’ve taken the time, and I know how busy you all are. By the way, I’d like to introduce my friend, Katherine Wilson. She had inspired me the idea of compulsory education for children. Please welcome her.”
There’s a polite smattering of applause.
“I
sn’t that the princess?” One of the well-dressed ladies asks.
“No, but they look extraordinarily alike,” Elle says, sending me a reassuring glance that seems to say ‘I’ve got this.’ “Kat is the granddaughter of a bookstore owner—perhaps you are acquainted with Mr. Wellesley, who runs The Bookworm?”
There’s a murmur of confusion, but Elle redirects their attention by shifting the topic. She jumps straight to the issue: how many signatures everyone has gathered so far, and what we should do to motivate more people to support our cause.
“I got more than thirty here,” a gray-haired lady says proudly. “From our knitting society. We’ve pledged a bit funding too for the flyers.”
“Excellent work,” Elle says, smiling. I could be wrong, but I guess Ms. Gray-Hair is one of those people who have a lot of time on their hands, and thus is amenable to contributing to a good cause.
“I don’t see what’s the point of doing this,” a man in overalls growls. His accent is quite similar to Molly’s father. “Of course I’d like to send my kids to school, but what’s the point when you can’t even feed them?”
“When I was a servant, my brother died when he was working in the factory,” Elle says quietly. “I know it’s tough, but I’d do anything to keep him alive. Prince Edward has promised us funding if the Act is passed. Children who can’t afford to have a square meal will be allocated food at school.”
“That’s right,” I say, and everyone looks at me. Oops, I shouldn’t have spoken up. I’m Katherine Wilson, a commoner, and therefore I’m not supposed to be familiar with what the prince is planning.
The discussion continues for some time, until a tall young man enters the partitioned room. Brown hair, leaf green eyes, and an angular face—why does he look familiar?
It’s Liam. Edward’s childhood friend in Enrilth. He used to treat me with cynicism and hostility, until the court trial brought upon by Bianca. A tinge of anxiety ripples through me; I make myself appear calm. Because he is most certainly to recognize me as Princess Katriona.
