Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales Book 3)

by Aya Ling

  “I won’t acknowledge the child,” Lord Fremont says. “My family…my wife—they will never forgive me.”

  “Honor your agreement and you won’t have to worry. In addition,” I say, on a sudden inspiration. “I need your vote.”

  Lord Fremont looks at me like I’m crazy. “You want what?”

  “Your vote in Parliament for compulsory education,” I say, doing my best to sound threatening. “Or I will expose you, Fremont. Your choice.”

  23

  Kat

  “How did you do that?” Liam says. He has hardly taken his eyes off me since I made Lord Fremont draw up an agreement with his signature. In return for our silence, Wilkie will be well fed and clothed, and he’ll be able to go to school when he grows up. This isn’t the best result I want, but this means Molly and Nell don’t need to hawk in the streets, and Wilkie is less likely to fall sick. Moreover, with Lord Fremont’s vote for compulsory education, we’ll be closer to our goal. I make a note to ask Elle for a copy of the petition.

  Both girls are so overwhelmed that they are speechless when Lord Fremont reluctantly signs the agreement.

  “Just be sure to let your baby grow up healthy and happy, and don’t ever let me see you in the streets again.”

  Once the girls have gone home, I return with Mr. Wellesley to The Bookworm. As Liam is still with us, I figure that the rest of the Wellesley family history should wait until another day.

  “I got lucky.” I shrug. “He didn’t expect the princess would punch him in the face.”

  “But you said you aren’t the princess.”

  I make sure no one is nearby to overhear us. “I let him assume I was Katriona Bradshaw. It’s because of the title that he’s willing to compromise.” Sad, but true. Fremont had said he would’ve turned me out of the house if it weren’t for Edward.

  Liam is silent for a moment, but then he suddenly grabs my arm. “Last year, there was a rumor that Princess Katriona had also punched a man in the streets.” His green eyes regard me with wariness and suspicion. “Who are you?”

  “She’s my granddaughter, and you’d best keep your hands off her,” Mr. Wellesley says, coming to my rescue.

  “I should be going back to the palace.” At Liam’s raised eyebrows, I add, “I work in the chicken coop. I collect eggs and clean the hen house every day.”

  Liam looks like he has a plethora of questions, but since both Mr. Wellesley and I are unwilling to talk, he keeps his mouth shut with a resigned air. He knows he is unlikely to get anything out of either of us. It doesn’t mean, however, that he has lost his interest in me. Before I can say goodbye and find an omnibus in the streets, he extracts a flyer from the Union and shoves it into my hands.

  “Come to the meeting, Miss Wilson,” he says. “Please. I’m certain you will benefit a lot from my speech.”

  * * *

  I haven’t heard from Edward for days. Mary helps me send a message to Amelie, asking if the prince has been busy lately. To my surprise, Amelie comes straight to the cottage and tells me that Edward had suddenly left the palace yesterday.

  “He didn’t tell anyone where he went,” Amelie says, frowning. “Mabel said he stood up after reading a letter from Duke Henry and told Bertram to make travel arrangements. But none of us were informed of his destination.”

  “From Henry?” This is a surprise. “He can’t be going to Moryn again.”

  “I would have liked to learn the truth, but I know when His Highness doesn’t wish to be questioned.” Edward had told me that Amelie is discreet; this is a perfect example. She didn’t even pester Bertram and use his crush on her to learn where Edward has gone. I don’t think I could have done the same were I in her place.

  What bothers me is that Edward didn’t tell me he would be leaving the palace. What can be so important that made him disappear in a sudden? And what does Henry have to do with this? Oh well. Maybe he’ll come back just as abruptly as he left.

  In the meanwhile, I busy myself following up on Fremont’s promise. I visit Elle, ask her for a copy of the petition, and soon we add another signature to the number of petitions for the Education Act. Since Fremont is highly popular among the peers—he’s like a younger version of Duke Philip, Edward’s eldest cousin—his support will attract other nobles to side with him. Edward’s article had already garnered a good deal of interest, and with the additional vote from Fremont, the Education Act is likely to be passed soon. We don’t need a landslide victory; just two-thirds will be enough to pass the act.

  I’m reminded of Liam’s upcoming speech every time I see the flyer he practically forced into my hands. Somehow I can’t bring myself to throw it away; the title, as Mr. Wellesley said, does make me wonder what he has to reveal about the aristocrats.

  The meeting is tomorrow. I don’t care about seeing Liam again, but my mind nags me to go. Partly because of curiosity, but also partly because I need to know what the people think. There are times that I dislike King Leon’s obsession with public image, but I have to agree that it is important. I need to hear what Liam has to say. Besides, the next meeting of the Children’s Education League is to start after Liam’s speech. I might as well arrive early.

  * * *

  The Hungry Boar is packed. If the Union had expected so many people would show up, they would have changed the location. As every chair is already taken, I stand in the back of the partitioned room, keeping care not to tread on the toes of the people behind me. I’m sweating from the number of people squeezed into the room, while it’s snowing outside.

  I also can’t help observing that the people are mostly from the lower-class, judging from the dark color and rough material of their clothes. Many of them look hungry and miserable, with glum, moody expressions. There was a well-dressed man who approached the room, but seeing the masses already gathered, changed his mind and disappeared. Maybe it’s a lord curious to learn what shocking truth about him that Liam has to say.

  I stand on tiptoe when the bearded man of the Union raps on the table, and shouts to everyone he needs their attention.

  “‘Night, everyone. Thanks for showing up.” He grins, obviously pleased at the crowds that have assembled. “I’m Charlie Quinn, the founder of the Commoners’ Union for the Abolition of the Privilege of Peers. Our mission is to expose to this country how unfair the people have been treated and work together to combat this injustice. Tonight, one of our newest members is going to tell you something you’ll never forget. Everyone, I present you Liam Charingford.”

  Liam squeezes to the front. His green eyes sweep over the audience, as though searching for someone. I consider ducking, but it’s too late. He gives a slight smile and a tiny nod in my direction.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he begins. “Let me introduce myself. I grew up in Enrilth, the same village where Prince Edward spent his childhood. Yes, in case you’re wondering, I have an acquaintance with the prince. Tonight, however, I am not here to tell any stories about the prince. The title of my proposed speech is The Shocking Truth About Athelia’s Peers, and the truth you shall have.”

  He straightens his spine and raises his voice. Clinking of glasses and noises of laughter carry from the bar; the wooden partitions are worthless in soundproofing. He has to speak louder to make his every word heard.

  “I had spent the past few months conducting a survey for Lord Harrington. We had a bet, the lord and I. Some time last year, I told him that over half of this country’s land is owned by less than ten percent of the population; namely, the lords themselves. He couldn’t believe such a disparity existed.”

  It hits me that this is the job Liam was talking about. The job that led to his resignation from Princess College. Seeing how his eyes narrow when he mentions Lord Harrington, I wonder if he is personally prejudiced against the lord, or to all peers. Come to think of my past conversations with Liam, he seemed resentful that Henry was originally selected for the teacher’s position, because the latter is a duke.

  “And let
me tell you the result of my findings.” Liam pauses for dramatic effect; I swear half of the audience are leaning forward, as if he were to reveal an assassination plot, or that the king was actually a closet gay. “It turns out that ninety-five percent of Athelia’s land is controlled by only seven percent of the people. Lord Mansfield, for example, owns six million acres himself.”

  He might as well have tossed an explosive into the audience. The women hold handkerchiefs to their faces, making gasps of incredulity, while the men punch fists in the air, some of them livid.

  “Preposterous! Totally unfounded!”

  “Ninety-five percent? That’s outrageous!”

  “Can you vouch for that, sir?”

  Liam throws back his shoulders. “Everything I’ve said is true. All my findings will be published in a pamphlet, and it will be distributed for free, courtesy of the Union, of which I am a proud, card-carrying member. If you have any doubt, let me relate the entire procedure.”

  He explains how he started the survey, citing the methods used and the statistics gathered, but it’s less riveting compared to the result he revealed. I think of the enormous palace I live in, the mansion Philip and Constance own in the country, the splendor and wealth I’ve seen of various aristocrats. What Liam says is true.

  “All right, folks!” Quinn shouts, handing out a new stack of papers. “If what we’ve presented today got your interest, consider joining our union. The next meeting will be the same time next week. Now we need you to clear out, this room is booked for the next hour…”

  Gradually, the crowd files out of the room. There’s less interest in children’s education. As I’m feeling thirsty, I head to the bar, when someone reaches my side.

  “Miss Wilson.”

  Liam offers me a smile. It’s bizarre that he’s suddenly being nice to me, now that I’m ordinary Katherine Wilson.

  “Did you enjoy the speech?”

  “It was…informative,” I admit. “You held everyone’s attention.”

  “Was it surprising, or did you find it believable that the lords monopolize so much wealth?” He gazes at me closely. “Ah, I believe the truth was not as shocking as you expected. You are well aware of the disparity between the people and the peers.” He looks toward the bar. “May I buy you a drink, Miss Wilson? I should like to know more of you.”

  “Um, no thanks,” I say quickly. “I need to go back to the Children’s Education meeting.”

  “Wait.” He holds out another flyer. “Come to our meeting next time.”

  I return to the partitioned room, feeling rather uneasy. When Edward comes back, I’m going to tell him about Liam’s speech. Seeing the commoners talk animatedly after Liam has finished his speech, I’ve a sense of foreboding that this issue will grow into a bigger problem.

  Elle doesn’t show up until halfway through the meeting. There’s a troubled look on her face, despite we have gained over five hundred petitions. When it’s over, I can’t help asking her what’s on her mind. There’s desperation written over her face, like when she was worried about her sick mother.

  She wrings her hands. “Oh Kat, the most dreadful thing happened. Katriona wants to convert Princess College into a residence. She wants to bring Lady Bradshaw back from the country and have her installed in the house.”

  24

  Kat

  My breath catches in my throat. “Katriona wants to set up her mother in Princess College, which she’s going to transform from a school into a home?”

  Elle nods, her pretty face marred with worry. “Once I got the news from Miss Cavendish, I rushed to the palace. When I confronted her, she told me her plans. She said that since the school is no longer open, there’s no need to waste the property.”

  “It must be Bianca.” I gnash my teeth together. “When I was princess, Bianca had wanted to buy the school. It’s likely that Bianca planted the notion in her head.”

  Elle looks down at her hands. “She wouldn’t listen to me, Kat. She was quite adamant that she wanted the place. I thought about pleading His Highness to convince her change her mind, but he hasn’t returned yet. Besides, Mabel told me that His Highness doesn’t get along with Katriona. She’s even less likely to listen to him.”

  “Oh dear.” There’s nothing I’d rather like to do than use the crane fist on Katriona, but it’s not going to solve the problem. “Has Lady Bradshaw returned to the capital? Is she settled in Princess College now?”

  “Katriona’s plan is to bring her mother back once the transformation is complete. It will take time to remove the desks and blackboards, and furnish Princess College into a new residence, but she already has an idea how to do it. If Princess College is gone…all the work we put into it will be for naught. And it’s going to be real difficult for us to find another place so spacious and centrally located.”

  “I’d talk to her if I could,” I say. “But I’m sure she won’t listen to me. In fact, Katriona will definitely be furious if she knew I’ve returned.”

  Elle nods sadly. “You have enough to worry about, Kat. I’ll talk to Miss Cavendish again and see if she has any ideas. She’ll have a hard time believing Katriona will destroy the school, since she still thinks you are in the palace.”

  I’m not unfamiliar with feeling helpless. But previously, it usually has to do with the goblins. This time, my hands are tied because I’m no longer princess.

  * * *

  “Hey, watch out!”

  Too late. The egg I was holding drops to the floor and cracks, leaving a puddle of yellow and white on the hay.

  Mary heads to me, a mildly reproving expression in her eyes. “Clear up the mess before the other chickens get to it, please.”

  “She’s been wanderin’ round with her head in the clouds this mornin’,” one of the boys says with a sneer. That boy had tried to get me to kiss him one afternoon when Mary wasn’t there, and when I refused, he had muttered that a plain-looking girl like me should be grateful for some attention and stop putting on high-and-mighty airs.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurt, using my apron to clean the mess. I don’t have the luxury of being supplied with cloths. “My mistake—I wasn’t concentrating.”

  The boy makes a snide remark about who knows what made me tired yesterday. I give him the finger when his back is turned. I'm acting like a kid, but I can’t use the crane fist on him in the chicken coop.

  Later that night, I lie awake in bed despite my back aching from gathering the eggs. What Elle said today kept echoing in my head, her frantic expression etched in my mind. Katriona is using my position, my allowance, to take away something I had created with Elle and bring her mother back to the capital. Maybe she even intends to issue a pardon to Lady Bradshaw, now she has the power to do so if she wished. It’s bad enough I am separated from Edward. Now Katriona has to go and make things even worse.

  I turn to one side, shifting under the blankets and wishing I had a hot water bottle...or even better, Edward’s arms around me.

  I land a fist on the pillow. No, no, no. She can’t do this to me. I must stop her, and I had better act fast. If she converts the school into a residence and then Lady Bradshaw moves in, it’s going to be really, really difficult to turn Lady Bradshaw out of the grounds and renovate the school again.

  It’s pitch dark in my makeshift room. I wish I could light a lamp, pull a piece of paper and write down any idea that may come to mind, but I have neither item in my room. I wielded much more power when I was princess...

  An image of Lord Fremont signing the agreement with a sullen expression comes to my mind.

  That’s it.

  All I need to do is pretend I’m princess again. It will be risky, but Edward hasn’t come back and we’re pressed for time. And I’d do anything to preserve the school from Bianca’s and Katriona’s clutches.

  * * *

  The carriage rattles on the cobblestone street, but I barely feel any discomfort. It’s still loads better than being squashed into a crowded omnibus during rus
h hour traffic, and besides, the layers of petticoats beneath my heavy gown of ruby red satin absorb much of the jostle and shock, not to mention the cream-colored cushions filled with goose feathers. I never thought I’d say this, but—I miss being a lady.

  Elle sits next to me, her hands bunching folds on her dress, her face a picture of consternation.

  “You’ll wrinkle your dress if you keep grasping the material like that,” I say, in a lighthearted attempt to ease the crease in her brow.

  “I can always use a charcoal iron. There’s a new kind out with a detachable handle, and it makes ironing so much easier.” Elle has got to be the only noblewoman who’d shrug and say she could iron her own dress, like she is still a servant. “Oh Kat, are you certain you want to do this? We can turn back if you…”

  “Perfectly sure,” I say. “Katriona could start re-designing the interior any time. This is the quickest, and most sure-fire way to ensure she can’t have the school.”

  “But you’re taking such a huge risk. What will Katriona say when she discovers you’re masquerading her?”

  “By that time it’ll be too late. And only Bianca, or Lady Bradshaw, can prove that I am not the princess. The owner—Sir Langley, is it? He’ll never be able to tell us apart.”

  Elle twists her fingers together. “Yes, but…”

  The carriage grinds to a halt. I put my hand over Elle’s and level her a confident look. “Trust me, Elle. I had been princess for eight months—longer, if you count the time Edward and I were engaged. If anything, Sir Langley is more likely to believe I am princess, as we had met when we rented the school grounds.”

  Perhaps infected by my determination, she nods. “Let’s have this completed as soon as possible.”