Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales Book 3)

by Aya Ling

  “No, don’t bother. I’ll go there myself.”

  Mabel looks surprised. “But they’re having a meeting! Won’t you wait until it’s over?”

  “I’d rather wait there.”

  I hurry to the receiving chamber, my heart pounding. What they are going to decide about the demonstration yesterday? Has the king has listened to my idea about democracy? I don’t know if I’m suggesting the right thing, but it’s the best method I can think of. Even if they have never heard of democracy before.

  The servant outside greets me with wariness.

  “Morning. Is Edward inside?” I ask right away.

  The servant nods. Before I can ask him to fetch me a chair so I can wait, an angry voice floats out.

  “They have to be punished!” Lord Sunderland is saying. “They destroyed my favorite carriage! We must mete a proper sentence! The people have to be taught their place.”

  “Do you not worry that a severe punishment will only cause a backlash?” Edward’s voice, calm and collected. “Do you not even wish to discuss why the people set fire to your carriage?”

  “It is all your fault for influencing them. You said in court we were lazy and selfish. And the people believed it.”

  “I am not the one who made idiotic remarks in the paper. If you could open your eyes and realize how ridiculous you sounded, you will understand why the people are rebelling.”

  “Then what can we do?” The king asks. “They cannot all be released. No matter the reason for the burning, they have committed a criminal offense in public.”

  “Hang them.” A petulant, sullen tone. “Can’t be soft on those vermin.”

  “Think carefully, Lord Westin,” Henry says. “I just came back from Moryn, and it is not a pretty sight. The emperor ordered that the police seize the people, but the opposite happened. The police refused to obey, and the consequences from the uprising is that the emperor is thrown into jail.”

  “Katriona…I mean, Katherine, came yesterday,” the king says. I stand up straighter at the mention of my name. There’s no reaction from Edward; I guess the king must have sent a message yesterday, letting him know I wasn’t going back to Henry’s. “She had a most interesting proposition.”

  “That abominable…” Lord Sunderland says, then breaks off. I’m guessing that Edward had shot him a withering glare.

  “What did she say?”

  The king outlines my suggestion of democracy. There’s a noise of outrage from Lord Sunderland; another lord mutters “Preposterous!” But there is another voice on my side, and it’s not coming from Edward.

  “Remarkably creative,” Lord Ashford says. “This means that everyone has a fair chance.”

  “Not everyone!” A lord protests. “You can’t allow an infant, for example, or a woman.”

  I bristle when he puts a woman on the same level as an infant, but I’ll leave the gender equality for another day. It is already a radical move introducing democracy to Athelia, when they’ve never heard about it before.

  They continue to discuss the idea for a while. I can’t see everyone but it seems the opinion is divided. I grit my teeth. Hope that the Union isn’t planning anymore destruction.

  The door opens. Lord Sunderland is the first to emerge—he looks surprised, then glares at me as though I burned his carriage. Lord Ashford bows and smiles, telling me that my idea of letting the people vote is brilliant (with proper regulations, of course). Henry asks if I will be returning to his house.

  “She’s staying here.” Edward takes my hand, his grip firm. “Since Kat has arrived, she may as well stay. The palace, after all, is her home.”

  I blush. “I’ll send Amelie a message.”

  “I have to go to Parliament,” Edward says, seeming reluctant to leave. “They may not be ready to accept your world’s idea of allowing commoners vote, but perhaps they will be more amenable to passing the tax bill.”

  I have my doubts, but all I can do is wish him the best and hope that everything will go well.

  “Take care, dearest. I shall return soon.” He kisses me on the cheek, then he is gone.

  * * *

  I have to do something. I had thought my marriage to Edward would be the only problem I had to worry about when I came back to Athelia, but this conflict between the classes has gone way out of hand. With Augustin in prison, as well as our own domestic conflict, I wonder how we can resolve this.

  I should talk to Liam, I decide. Even though I may be the last person he wants to see. I can’t tell him I would join him, but on the other hand, I also cannot blame the people rebelling. I have seen for myself the privileges of the aristocracy. Were Lord Fremont a commoner, he wouldn't be shielded. He would be denounced, criticized, and sentenced to jail because of what he did to Nell. I still think he needs to be punished, but for the sake of Nell’s baby, unfortunately I must let him go.

  The sergeant looks frightened when I arrive at the station and give my name. He is the same person who had looked at me with contempt when Bianca accused me. He doesn’t know how to act around me—he doesn’t know whether to treat me as a commoner or a royal. Well, at least I am no longer regarded a witch.

  “You…you wish to speak to the rabble-rousers, Lady?” His voice is trembling, and he doesn't dare to look me in the eye.

  “Yes, I am acquainted with one of them,” I say. “I would like to speak to him.”

  “But you need not to stoop to such levels…”

  “There is no stooping,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended. “I am a citizen, just like he is. Just like you are. And stop looking at me like I’m a cannibal—I’m not going to report you to Edward or the king. Now, may I trouble you to bring me to the cells?”

  The police, however, insist on bringing Liam to me, as they don’t want to let me see the cells. As if I haven’t been to prison before. I suspect that they think the prison is too shocking for my delicate senses, and they don’t want to be responsible if I swoon.

  I wait for at least a quarter hour until Liam appears. Surprisingly, he has shaved and washed his face; the smell of soap is in the air. Most likely they told him to clean up because of my request to see him. Still, from the hollowness in his cheeks and the filthy state of his hair, I know he hasn’t been well treated in prison. There’s a clinking sound as he walks; a pair of shiny handcuffs gleam on his wrists.

  There’s a curious gleam in his eyes as he gazes at me. I ask the sergeant to bring a chair for him. I don’t feel comfortable sitting while he towers over me.

  “So,” Liam drawls. “Come to gloat? Or are you sympathizing with me, dear Kat?”

  I resist the urge to tell him I am not ‘dear Kat’ to him. “I want to talk to you.”

  “About our little display of discontent in the streets?” The corners of his mouth jerk up. “I can see where this is going. You are not unsympathetic to our cause, but you will tell me that violence is wrong, and we should seek legal means to plead support.”

  “You’re wrong.” I didn’t study literature and history in college for nothing. “I know the Union is incensed because you’ve been giving lectures and distributing flyers all this time, yet the idiotic MPs at Parliament didn’t bother to listen. So as a last resort, you decided to use violence instead, because burning carriages will get you on the front page. It will make the peerage sit up and take notice.” I clear my throat. “I’m not against violence; it depends on how we use it. For example, if our ancestors didn’t rise up against Moryn’s colonization, we would still be paying taxes to Augustin.”

  Liam lets out a long breath. “You should have joined us, Kat.”

  “That’s not going to happen. What do you want, Liam?”

  “Everything Edward has that I don’t,” he says quietly.

  Dang. My original intent was to ask him what he expects to gain by burning carriages, such as a chance to speak in Parliament or an attendance with the king, but he took it the wrong way.

  “Including you.”

  I suck i
n a deep breath. This is REALLY not the way I anticipated to go. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “You are the first woman I’ve met that has a head on her shoulders. The first woman who isn’t annoying, foolish, and cares about things that matter. When I read your articles in the paper, I was surprised that a lady could have such insight into the social issues of our country. Do you know why I applied to be a teacher at the girls’ school?”

  No. It can’t be that…

  “Because I knew you were the head patron of the school. If I were a teacher there, I would be able to meet you. Do you believe I was interested in teaching little girls? Although you were naive and idealistic in your sentimental socialism, especially with the issue of girls’ education, you worked hard to improve the lives of the people. If only Edward didn’t snatch you up in the beginning…”

  “Stop.” I hold up my hand. I can’t let him babble any longer; he’s only wasting his time with me. “I already told you that while you might find me attractive, I never thought of you as anything but a friend. Stop harboring any hope of us getting together. I belong to Edward.”

  He keeps his eyes on my face. “But you are not married yet. There’s still time.”

  God, he sure is persistent. If he were Henry or some other nice guy, I’d definitely be flattered, but right now I feel nothing but annoyance. “Look, you barely know me,” I snap, not bothering to tamp down my irritation. “You read a few articles, talked to me a few times, and then you decide that we should be together? Excuse me, but my feelings also matter. I’m not obligated to accept you just because you want me. Edward respected me. You kept lecturing me about being too idealistic. If you were a woman, who would you choose?”

  “Perhaps I haven’t behaved like a proper suitor, but I doubt Edward respected your wishes either.” At my raised eyebrows, he shrugs. “He knew you would be mocked by the aristocrats, but he insisted on bringing you into his circle. He didn’t consider that you might be in danger. Look at what Bianca Bradshaw tried to do to you. If you weren’t princess, or going to be princess, she wouldn’t have tried to have you removed.”

  I explode. “You think it’s all Edward’s fault that Bianca tried to murder me? She is the one who wanted to harm me, not him! Don’t you ever speak of this subject to me again, you’re only wasting your breath. Now, what I wanted to ask you was your plans. Suppose you get rid of the peers. What happens to Parliament? Are you going to replace the MPs and pass the laws for the people?”

  A pause. “Better us than a bunch of ignorant aristocrats.”

  “And who gets to decide who can sit in Parliament? Quinn? You? What if you don’t agree on the choice of MPs?” I raise my voice. “You don’t even have a plan for what comes after if you take down the nobles. The Moryns have rebelled and seized the emperor, but look at the chaotic state of their country now. Do you want Athelia to follow the same route and be plunged into civil war?”

  He stares at me, his mouth half open. “It won’t come down to that.”

  “How can you be so sure that there won’t be chaos, when we have a living example in Moryn?”

  He rakes a hand through his hair. “So you’re saying we should stop protesting and let the peers continue enjoying their privileges as before?”

  “Actually, I have a plan.” I clasp my hands together. I outline my idea about democracy, and he looks like I’m crazy.

  “The king will never agree. Nor will the peers.”

  “Edward’s gone to Parliament. He’ll try to convince them to accept this new system. I’m asking you—if you think my idea is reasonable—tell the Union to stop whatever they’re planning, and let’s reach an agreement.”

  “It’s too late,” Liam looks on the ground.

  Fear seizes my mind; I grab his arm. “What do you mean? Tell me!”

  “Quinn plans to bomb the parliament. Today.”

  45

  Kat

  Time stands still.

  Then I regain my senses. I grab Liam’s collar and shake him, causing the chains between his wrists jingle. “Tell me it’s a lie. Tell me you’re lying!”

  “Burning the carriages was only the preliminary step.” Liam bites his lip and looks away. “Quinn has arranged for the bomb to be detonated at noon.”

  “Are you CRAZY?” I shout. “No matter how unjust the system is, you’ve no right to endanger the people, and that includes BOTH nobles and commoners! What if someone gets killed?”

  He mutters something like “greater good,” but I don’t bother arguing with him.

  “Sir,” I call the sergeant. “We have an emergency on our hands. I need you to send a force to Parliament. Now.”

  * * *

  I can’t run fast enough. The Metropolitan Police Force organizes a squad, but I can’t stay still. Once Liam confesses the location of the bomb, I call Bertram, tell him about the bombing, ending with, “We’re going to Parliament.” This time Bertram doesn’t protest when I insist that he drive me to Parliament. Concern for his master takes priority.

  All I can think of Edward. I pull out my pocket watch with trembling hands. Half an hour until noon. If we hurry, we can reach Parliament before the bomb goes off. We can’t remove the bomb—there isn’t time to find an expert, but we can make the MPs evacuate. Hope they won’t look down on me and refuse to comply. Anyway, Edward will believe me. If he agrees to leave the building, the others will follow.

  The streets are eerily quiet after the demonstration yesterday, which only adds to the tension. I grip the sides of the seat and pray that we can arrive on time. If there’s a traffic jam, I vow I’ll run all the way, no matter what it takes. Edward has to be safe. He’s got to be.

  Liam sits across me, his head bowed. I decided to bring him, in case we run into Quinn or a member of the Union. He might be useful.

  “Are we nearly there?” I shout. Just when I am thinking about which entrance I should use to enter the building, the ground shakes. I clutch the edge of the seat; so does Liam. The impact isn’t large enough to overturn the carriage, but still, I have an ice-cold instinct that the bomb is already set off.

  NO! My heart feels like it’s going to leap out of my throat. I poke my head out of the window and in the distance, I could see the white dome of the parliament building. There’s smoke rising from the roof.

  “Edward,” I breathe.

  As the streets gradually fill with people who’ve emerged to see what happened, I decide I can’t wait any longer. I open the door, spring to the ground, and set off in a run. Footsteps pound behind me; Bertram and Liam catch up with me.

  I whirl around, grab Liam’s arm, and yell at him. “Didn’t you say the bomb would go off at noon?”

  His face is paper white, his lip trembles. “I don’t know…maybe Quinn changed the timing? I swear I had no idea.”

  “Princess.” Bertram takes my elbow. “We need to find His Highness.”

  I twist Liam’s arm until he yelps, and let him go. “You’d better pray that Edward is safe, because if he isn’t…you won’t want to know what I can do to you.”

  I race to the building. I trip on my gown twice—my knees must be bruised—but I barely feel any pain. All I can think of is Edward. If anything happens to him…I don’t even want to think about it. I didn’t come back to have him cruelly taken away from me again.

  I’m nearly there, when a child’s cry pierces the air. I pause for a second. One glance tells me that the child is all right, but nearby is a woman sitting on the ground, holding her head, which is bleeding. There’s a large piece of debris on her skirt. Looks like part of the building was blown off and landed on this unfortunate mother. A young woman appears with a roll of bandages; she tends to the mother and calms the child with amazing efficiency.

  My anxiety turns into full-fledged fear. If someone outside the building is injured, then what about the people inside?

  A strong hand lands on my shoulder. “He will be all right, Princess Kat,” Bertram says, with his usual simple-minded op
timism. “He is a good man. Nothing bad will happen to those who do good.”

  Normally, I’d laugh and tell him he’s spouting naive nonsense, but now I want to believe him. I make myself believe him. Edward has his faults, but he certainly is a good man. He has worked long hours to make Athelia a better place. Nothing will happen to him.

  I turn to Liam. “Are there any more bombs I should be aware of?”

  “Kat…you’re not planning to enter the building?”

  “If anyone is seriously injured, time is vital. We’ve got to get everyone to safety as soon as possible.”

  Someone staggers out of the building. Lord Ashford, looking like he took a shower in white dust, is clutching his arm.

  “Lord Ashford!” I race to his side. “Are you all right? Is everyone all right?”

  He grimaces. “A marble bust crashed on my arm, but other than that I’m fine. The others are coming out as well—those that didn’t have their legs stuck.”

  With his other arm, he gestures to the building. The entrance is mostly blocked off, thanks to the bomb, but there’s a narrow opening so that the MPs can squeeze through on hands and knees.

  “Did you see Edward?”

  Ashford shakes his head. “He was on the podium when the explosion occurred. There were pillars in the way; I couldn’t get to him.”

  My knees sway. Finally, I know what it’s like to swoon. I keep telling myself I’ve got to think of the next step, but my mind is wiped blank.

  Bertram steadies me. “I’ll find him, Princess. Don’t you worry.”

  His confidence infects me. “I’m going in there with you.” I find my voice. “If you can go in, then so can I. Don’t argue with me, Bertram, I’ll be careful. But I HAVE to find him.”

  My voice breaks, and I fight back tears that threaten to spill. I just know I can’t stand here and wait. I have to go in, whatever they say.

  Bertram grits his teeth and makes me promise I’ll stand behind him. He pulls away some rocks so he could squeeze through the entrance, and I crawl in after him.