by Aya Ling
I scan through the dark frock coats and brown calico dresses until I zoom in on the person who’s speaking. He’s standing on the raised platform, and curiously he’s able to project his voice over the crowd, though I’m sure that loudspeakers don’t exist in Athelia—not when electricity isn’t used in daily life. There’s a huge, strange-looking coiled tube placed next to him, which I was later to learn was Athelia’s version of a megaphone.
But I can’t be bothered about the wonders of the megaphone now. Liam, looking markedly different from the cynical, snarky guy who used to sneer at my efforts to improve education for girls, is speaking with heated passion. There’s a glint in his eyes; he looks indignant, affronted, and ready to stage a protest. Considering what he’s talking of, I won’t be surprised if he’s rallying people against the lords.
“According to the survey in your hands, landownership is ridiculously distributed in this country. Allow me tell you…”
Liam launches into a similar speech I’ve heard at the Union. Looks like their meetings have attracted so many people that they no longer congregate at the Hungry Boar.
“Princess?” Amelie touches my sleeve. “Do you wish to stay here, or go to the bookshop?”
She keeps her voice down, and as the crowd around us is so noisy, it’s impossible that anyone heard her call me princess. But Liam’s gaze happens to fall on us at the very moment. Recognition dawns in his eyes—I bet not only does he recognize me, but also Bertram and Amelie.
“Let’s go,” I tell Amelie. I came here because I wanted to talk to Mr. Wellesley, and I need to get back before Edward returns. Knowing Edward’s neurotic concern about my whereabouts, I sure don’t want him coming back and finding me gone.
On our way to The Bookworm, we pass a shoe shop. I tell Amelie and Bertram to meet me at the shoe shop, since it’s only a few minutes’ walk from The Bookworm, and go off before they can protest. Got to give them some time together.
Before I reach the bookstore, someone grabs my arm. I twist around, using a karate move to wrench away, and the other person grunts in pain.
“I thought I saw you in the crowd,” Liam says, rubbing his arm. “Since this is your grandfather’s shop, I thought you might come here, so I decided to try my luck.”
“I’m honored,” I say, failing to keep the sarcasm out of my tone. “There must have been a lot of people who wanted to ask follow-up questions to that speech you made. It was quite thought-provoking.”
“Oh that.” He seems proud of himself. “It took me several months of conducting surveys and hiring assistants. I myself was also amazed at the results.”
I bite my lip. The people out there were totally riled up by his speech. “Why did you make that bet with Lord Harrington in the beginning?”
He is silent for a while. “Edward and I grew up together in Enrilth. We were the same age. From when I could walk and talk, my parents had taught me that the prince was special. I must always yield to his demands, I must never offend him, and no matter how he treats me as a friend, we will never be equals.”
There’s a twisted smile on his face. No wonder he joined the Union. When I first met him in my honeymoon, I had thought he was faking his friendship with Edward. Yup, if he was made to defer to Edward since he was a child, well yeah, that must’ve made him bitter and resentful towards the peers. “All the girls in the village were infatuated with the prince. In their eyes he was akin to deity. He had everything—looks, wealth, position. They didn’t care he wasn’t easy to approach or lacked charm. If Edward did not possess those external factors, he’d hardly be able to attract the females with his character alone.”
I don’t think so, I’m tempted to say. Edward may be obnoxious at times, but Liam hasn’t experienced what Edward has shown to me. Although I have to say Edward can be distant and cold when he wants to. It’s only among his closest ones that he reveals his caring, sensitive, even flirtatious side.
“I have always been top in my class,” Liam says, narrowing his eyes. “Yet I know that no matter how hard I study, I can never achieve high in life. You know well yourself that Princess College chose Henry over me. What Athelia operates on—the preference for hereditary connections rather than actual merits—means that intellectuals like me will never be allowed an equal chance. And so, when Charlie Quinn started distributing flyers about his mission, I was intrigued. I discovered there are many people like me, who are also dissatisfied with this unfair, biased system.” His eyes are glowing now. “We want to change this unjustness, Miss Wilson. That report on landownership is only the first step. We will not rest until the entire peerage is abolished. Parliament is merely a bunch of privileged members who have no interest in the people, despite their claims. How could they know what we want, when they’ve never worked a day in their life?”
“So what you’re saying is you want to advocate radical sentiments in the people?” I say. Not that I support this hereditary culture, of course. But the way he’s doing it is unsettling. “What are you planning to do?”
He gives me another of his enigmatic smiles. “Join our Union, Miss Wilson. We could use someone valuable like you.”
“Because I punched Fremont?” The words are out of my mouth before I can help it.
“I shall never forget his bloody nose and the look on his face.” He smirks. “Well, if you ever change your mind, let me know.”
He slips me a card. It’s plain and white, unlike the fancy scented cards that noble ladies use when they go calling on friends and acquaintances. “You could do so much more than being the granddaughter of a bookstore owner.”
“Lass, I’ve been waiting for you,” Mr. Wellesley says, coming out of the shop. “Come in, there’s a new series you’ll like…”
Gratefully, I follow my ‘grandfather’ into The Bookworm. Yet while I’ve gotten rid of Liam for the time being, I can’t avoid him completely. The crowd in the city square is nothing like I’ve seen before. If he stirs the people into an uprising, as what happened in Moryn, there’s going to be deep trouble.
* * *
At night I wait for Edward. It’s nearly midnight when he strides inside, looking exhausted, but I swear he retreats a step when he sees me.
“Kat,” he says, holding up a hand as though I am carrying a infection. “You shouldn’t be here.”
It’s almost as if he’s a maiden who needs to safeguard his reputation (how amusing), but I get to the point. “Sorry, but I had to talk to you. I miss those nights when we had conversations together. I hate sleeping alone.”
He looks on the carpeted floor. “I feel the same.”
I sit down on the chair by the window. “There was a huge gathering in the city square today. Liam was speaking to the crowd.”
Edward also sits down, but he is careful to maintain a respectable distance between us. It almost feels we are back to when he was courting me, though it’s ironic that Edward wasn’t as mindful of my reputation as he does now.
“About the disparity of landownership?” Edward rubs a hand over his forehead. “Father and I have also been discussing the issue as of late.”
I show him a handbill I picked up while Liam was speaking. The headline reads “Starving Workers Unite: Learn How To Make Your Voice Heard.” There’s the date and time of the next meeting at the Hungry Boar.
Edward reads the contents on the handbill, and his brow draws together. “I am not surprised that he would have a conflict with the aristocracy,” he says quietly. “Liam has harbored a grudge towards the peerage since he was a young boy. He is smart and hard-working, no doubt about it, but he could never become a member of Parliament or make a great name for himself. Unfortunately, in this country, connections and wealth are more important than merits.”
“Is there anything we can do about this?” I say. “It’s unfair to treat the people differently, and to give preferential treatment to those based on birth and connections. If the hereditary practice continues like this, there will be more and more people diss
atisfied, and who knows what they might resort to.”
Edward rubs his forehead. “It is part of the reason why I thought your compulsory education was an impressive idea. It is difficult to provide the laborers and white-collar workers with the same pay, because they differ in education, and so they have different skills. However, my major concern at the moment is how to resolve the scarcity of food.”
At my questioning look, he says, “Kat, haven’t you found the winter this year uncommonly long and harsh?”
I understand at once. “There’s a shortage of crops because of the harsh winter, which led to famine.”
“It’s reported that many people in the country have moved into the capital, hoping for better luck here. The more they wander around and congregate, the more of a problem it’s going to be. We must import more grain for the people going hungry.”
“Right.”
“There’s a problem, however. Our financial budget is becoming tighter every year. The new railroad cost hundreds of thousands of pounds and the entire system isn’t even finished. People are still new to it and it’ll take years to turn a profit. The passing of the Education Act means setting aside a substantial amount to build schools, employ teachers and inspectors, acquire supplies, etc. If we are to purchase food, we need to halt the railroad construction or the schools.”
I wince. I don’t want the schools delayed, but it is more important to feed the people. For some reason, Liam’s speech pops into my mind. “Can’t we raise the taxes for the peers? Since they have so much land anyway.”
Edward is silent for a moment. “There are no taxes imposed on the aristocrats.”
I almost fall off the sofa. “The nobles don’t pay any tax in this country? When they have so much land?”
“It’s a tradition that has stood since our country was founded. When we went to war with Moryn, countless knights and squires have sacrificed their lives defending our lands. Because of their contribution, the then king made it a law that the peers need not pay taxes, as they have already paid their blood.”
“But that’s hundreds of years ago! There hasn’t been a war for ages, and since Athelia is the most powerful country in this world, it’s unlikely we’ll need their blood.” I rise from the sofa. “I don’t understand why the lords can’t be taxed. They already own ninety-five percent of this country, for crying out loud. Let’s use the extra income to buy more food for the people.”
“We can import grain from Moryn. They have a more moderate climate, and Augustin needs money. He built a new palace for his wife as a wedding present.”
“Oh my God.” I put a hand over my mouth. “I’m marrying the wrong man.”
“Too late.” He pulls away my hand and kisses me deeply, as though marking me as his. “How about fifteen percent of the nobles’ income?”
“In my world, the rich pay up to forty percent of their income.”
He wrinkles his forehead. “The members of Parliament are unlikely to agree to such a large percentage. Remember how we passed the Eight-Hour Act? If we force the MPs pay heavy taxes, when they’re used to keeping every single penny of their income, I can guarantee it will meet unanimous opposition, even when considering the situation in our country now.”
“All right then,” I say, releasing a sigh. Baby steps, I remind myself. This is a different world.
Edward drops a kiss on my forehead and gently pushes me towards the door. “Get some rest, Kat. We have much to do.”
34
Edward
I disembark from my carriage and look over the river. Lillie’s wedding is held on an enormous glittering boat. Already, someone has set off fireworks and colorful sparks are exploding in the black velvety sky. I did not want to attend this event, given how busy I have been, plus Kat’s problem is weighing on my mind, but as Lillie is part of the family and one of the few people I grew up with, it is necessary to make an appearance, even though I would rather be back in Henry’s house, sitting in the kitchen with Kat with some unusual but tasty dishes from her own world. I am making improvement in my tolerance for spicy food. One day, I will be able to enjoy it like she does.
“May I take your coat, Your Highness?” A butler offers, glancing around me as though expecting a lady with me. I do not want to bring anyone except Kat, but although I would like her to accompany me, I cannot throw her to the wolves. Most of the guests are aristocrats (and a few industrial tycoons that even the Marquess of Sunderland cannot avoid), and since it is known that Kat is a commoner, she would be viewed as an affliction. Even when Kat was princess, I am aware that many nobles are reluctant to accept her. I have no wish to speculate how the nobles would treat her were she here as my escort.
Philip and Constance, both of them arrayed in splendid costume, greet me as I cross the plank leading to the boat. “Edward!” Philip exclaims, clapping me on the shoulder. “Things have been rough on you recently, aren’t they?”
“Everyone’s been talking about your intentions to divorce Katriona,” Constance says, frowning. “Honestly speaking, Edward, this is not what I’d expect of you. You seemed so devoted to her when you came to stay at our house last year.”
I sigh. I do not want to take the time to explain to them. “It is true, Constance. There were irreconcilable differences that could not be resolved except seeking a divorce.” Having no wish to pursue the issue further, I ask, “Did Lillie receive my wedding gift?” I had selected a rare flower that can only be found in a distant island that was once an Athelian colony. A pot is said to cost two hundreds pounds; apart from the palace greenhouse, I do not know of another place that houses the plant.
Unlike most women who pretend to take an interest in gardening so that they could approach me, Lillie genuinely derives pleasure in tending plants and watering flowers and designing her own garden. Though I am also aware that she had a childish attachment to me, which she has thankfully grown out of, now that she is going to be married. Philip has more than once expressed a subtle desire that I consider a union with his sister-in-law, but even if Kat was never transported to Athelia, I cannot fathom a lifetime with Lillie. I can never see her as anything but a little sister.
“We were absolutely astounded you would consider a divorce.” Phillip pulls me aside and lowers his voice. “Why couldn’t you have a casual fling with that commoner? If she is so…ahem, charming, there are a number of things you could have done instead. Set up a house for her in a costly district. Shower her with clothes and jewelry from High Street. There is no need to go through this scandalous process.”
I smile and shake my head. Philip will never understand—he had a few mistresses and dozens of affairs, but would never dream of leaving his wife. I do not mean to judge him—indeed, I am sure both he and his mistresses are perfectly happy with their arrangements, but it is not the kind of lifestyle I desire. Instead I try to change the subject. “I would like to see Lillie in person and congratulate her.”
When I enter the main room, I am struck by its splendor. Crystal chandeliers glitter from the ceiling; crimson curtains, golden tapestries, and mirrors decorate the walls; lavender and lilies arranged in porcelain vases adorn the long buffet tables, which are laden with silver dome-covered platters and tall bottles of wine.
Sunderland and Philip cannot have spared any expense for this wedding. There are even a few reporters (I recognize one from Athelia Daily) who will no doubt devote pages describing the opulence to the masses who want to satisfy their curiosity for the rich and famous. At a time when Liam’s landownership report is distributed widely, I cannot help but be apprehensive what the public might think about such a lavish wedding.
“Your Highness.” A middle-aged man with a well-trimmed beard greets me. Lord Ashford, one of the few men I trust and respect in Parliament. Because the seats in Parliament are based on one’s birth and connections, rather than merit, most MPs do not bother taking the time to thoroughly investigate and understand each act introduced. Ashford, however, is an exception. “I hea
rd that you are going to introduce a new tax bill in the next session. I assume this is an attempt to replenish the public coffers, after we abolished the tax on soap and paper.”
“That is part of the reason,” I say. “But also because of the recently passed Education Act. More schools must be built in order to accommodate the number of children, and after discussing with Lord Dudley and a few officers in the Ministry of Education, we came up with the plan to levy new taxes on landowners.”
Ashford strokes his beard. “A bold move, but considering most members of Parliament are landowners and have never paid taxes…have you cause to expect this new bill will not be met with complaint?”
I smile. “Come, Ashford, you know I am used to rejection. I will explain to the MPs the necessity of this bill. If they offer a better solution, that would be ideal, but can you offer a more reliable method? Donations are irregular and unpredictable, and schools would require regular maintenance. The children are this nation’s future, Ashford. If our nation wishes to remain powerful and prosperous, we cannot afford to neglect the children.”
Ashford nods. “Well said. As usual, I am in complete agreement with your ideas.” He looks around. “By the way, did your wife not accompany you? Surely, even if you applied for divorce, she could still accompany you in public. I heard it was she who had the idea for compulsory education.”
“If you mean Katriona Bradshaw, then no, it is not her idea,” I say. “Katherine Wilson is the woman who inspired me.”
He raises his eyebrows. “The woman who you moved out with? But isn’t she common-born?”
“The only thing that matters is that she is the one I always intended to marry. The details are too complicated to explain, but let us just say Katriona Bradshaw was a mistake. But back to the tax bill. Do I trust I have your vote on this matter?”
Ashford gives an affirmative nod. “You may count on me, but I fear you will have great difficulty convincing others to join you. Too much personal interest is at stake.”
