by Aya Ling
Molly tugs on my sleeve. “It doesn’t matter, Your Highness,” she says in a small voice. “I’d much rather go home. I often fall asleep in class. It ain’t much use for me to be here anyway.”
Mr. Ripley scowls at me. I guess he didn’t hear Molly call me Your Highness. With his scar, he looks more grotesque than most people. “What’s the use of having children if they can’t lessen the burden of the family?”
I feel like punching him in the face, but all I can do is clench my fists and watch him drag Molly away. I’ve been doing my best to help the children, but so far my efforts aren’t producing the results I hoped for.
25
I really want to spend some time thinking about how to help Molly, but unfortunately, royal duties come calling. Soon, the Moryn emperor will be arriving with his fiancée to the capital for the State Visit. Most of my time is filled up with cramming in Moryn customs, business transactions, and even the hobbies and interests of the emperor and his fiancée.
Even though the king and queen will be the ones to perform the main duties, Edward and I are still required to appear at every event. I am so thankful that I’ve recovered almost all my memories by now. It would be a big deal if I made some stupid mistake in front of the emperor. That’s going to be even more disastrous than me blundering in front of Bianca and the queen.
Nevertheless, I am still nervous when the day arrives. I have gotten used to my royal life in the palace now, but this is the first time that I’m receiving a foreign royal. I have to watch myself because my conduct will be reported not only in Athelia, but also in foreign newspapers.
In late afternoon, we line up near the entrance of the palace, where the main road stretching outside is already flanked with crowds waiting to see the emperor arrive. I’m sweating in my multi-layered gown and praying that my crown won’t fall off when we’re supposed to follow the king and queen into the palace.
Edward stands next to me, attired in full dress uniform, a black frock coat with golden epaulets and a matching black cap with a golden plume. He’s breathtaking. I could hardly take my eyes off him when he emerged from his room.
“Thy blush the divinest rosy-red,” he whispers, a teasing gleam in his eyes. “Shall I interpret it as an encouraging sign that you are more attracted to me?”
I look away and mutter, “I thought you didn’t like it when girls fawned over your looks.”
“Not if it concerns you. As long as you fall in love with me, I shall not care whether it is because of my face, my mind, or my character.”
Edward-the-Flirt is in full force. I have a feeling that it has to do with my uncertain state of leaving or staying. I don’t remember that he was usually this flirtatious.
Before I can think of a witty rejoinder, there is the sound of horses galloping, followed by the sound of trumpets blaring some military-style music.
“They are playing the national anthem of the Moryn Empire,” Edward whispers. “It’s customary to play it before the monarch arrives.”
A long line of carriages appears on the road. Cheers erupt from the crowds, who are shouting and waving and clapping. “It’s the emperor!” “Wonder what the future empress looks like?” “Here they come!” It makes me think of the reception on my wedding day.
Not everyone seems to welcome the Moryn emperor. Some people in the crowds are holding up huge signs that read, Down with the Dictator. I am reminded of my lessons on Moryn’s current state of affairs. The country is still largely controlled by an autocratic ruler—the emperor doesn’t allow the people have a say in his decisions. They don’t have a parliament to exert a moderating influence on the emperor. The mob uprising in the capital was likely due to disagreement with Augustin’s policies.
I’m glad that I was transported to Athelia. While it’s frustrating that the parliament is slow to accept our innovations, I’d take a constitutional monarchy over a dictatorship anytime. I dread to imagine how Athelia would fare if Edward were anything like Andrew McVean.
Finally, Emperor Augustin emerges from his carriage. I recognize him from the photos that Edward showed me. Then he escorts a young lady dressed in a huge, frilly pink gown. She has to be Simone, the fiancée of the emperor.
“Let us go welcome our guests,” the king says.
Walking beside Edward, I follow the king and queen out of the entrance gates until we reach the Moryn royals, who are also headed in our direction. After exchanging a few courteous words, the king holds out his arm to the future empress of Moryn, while the emperor offers his arm to the queen.
Accompanied by rows of yeomen, we set off to the Reception Room, where introductions are made. It’s obvious that Augustin has already met the king, the queen, and Edward, but he doesn’t know me. Nor have we met Simone, for she got engaged to the emperor only a few weeks ago.
“Allow me introduce my wife, Katriona Bradshaw,” Edward says, and my heart melts at the glow in his face.
Augustin is in his late thirties, with a perfectly curled mustache and a perfectly tailored outfit.
“Princess Katriona.” Augustin raises my hand to his lips. “I am at your service.”
I curtsy, feeling my knees crack. “Welcome to Athelia, Your Majesty.”
I’m next introduced to Simone, who looks much younger than the emperor—Edward had informed me that she is going to be Augustin’s second wife. The first wife passed away and left the five-year-old Moryn princess who’s too young for Edward.
Anyway, Simone is simply gorgeous, one of the few women who could compete with Bianca in looks. Silky blonde hair falls in glistening coils on sloping porcelain shoulders. Blue-gray eyes are set like priceless jewels, and a delicate chin is so perfectly curved that it could have been molded by a sculptor. She is dressed in a snow-white top lined with pearl buttons, along with a giant, frilly Barbie-pink gown that’s puffed out like a balloon. On me, that gown would definitely be too garish and frivolous. However, Simone manages to carry it off, like the gown is custom-made for her. If she were in the U.S., she’d be a perfect model for playing any Disney princess.
“Ah, so you are the famous lady that Prince Edward picked from a thousand girls!” She grabs my hand with evident enthusiasm. “Katriona, is it? May I call you Katriona? So lovely that we finally meet! I’ve been so curious about you since I read about your engagement in the papers.”
Simone continues to chatter until a photographer asks if he can take our picture. A flash goes off, and this time I don’t even flinch. I truly am getting used to my role as princess of Athelia—a role that I never expected I’d come to accept.
A few seconds later, I find myself facing a tall, broad-shouldered man who looks around thirty. Like Augustin, his mustache is impeccably curled and his clothes are crisp and new.
“Princess Katriona.” His mouth, which is already rather wide, seems to split his face in half as he grins. His voice is low and sensual, his touch on my hand like a caress, and his gaze remains on my face for such a long moment that I’m rather uncomfortable. “Have we met earlier? Your lovely face seems familiar.”
“I…don’t think so.” He is looking so closely at me that I wonder if I have something on my face. “Pardon me, but I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you before.”
“In that case, let me introduce myself. I am His Majesty’s one and only brother, Jérôme Victoire Emmanuel, Count di Corsica.” He kisses the back of my hand, and I have an urge to wipe my hand against my gown. “But call me Jérôme, please.”
“Jérôme,” Augustin says, apparently detecting my discomfort. “I haven’t yet introduced you to Lord Sunderland, who has expressed a wish to meet you.”
I’m glad when Jérôme is led away. While he hasn’t done anything that oversteps the bounds of propriety, I don’t understand why he’d be this drawn to me, especially with a stunning beauty like Simone present. What did he mean when he asked if we’ve met before? Maybe he was at one of the social events when I had my Season, but since I was only the overlooked Bradshaw sist
er, I didn’t have a chance to be introduced to him. Anyway, I just hope that I won’t have to interact with the emperor’s brother for the rest of the State Visit.
26
The State Visit passes in a flurry of excitement. Every event, from the military review, the Investiture, to the dinner parties, has been an eye-opening experience that I could never have participated in the modern world. Still, I’ll be glad when it’s over. Both Edward and I sleep for only a few hours these days. Maybe that accounts for why I often felt easily tired, especially in crowds.
The king and queen perform the major roles for most of the time. During the Investiture, for example, the king ties a blue ribbon on Augustin’s leg and declares him a Knight of the Highest Order. All I have to do is stand like a statue for a few hours, and try to look rapt and interested. Edward later tells me that he is also tempted to fidget and shout. For all his well-trained discipline, inside he is just like me, concealing a dislike for fussy rituals.
However, there is one occasion that Edward and I have to take the reins. Simone has expressed a desire to visit Fauxe, the most high-end pleasure garden in Athelia. A pleasure garden (I was later to remember I first heard of the term from Mr. Wellesley) is a venue for public entertainment. In the past, the king and queen have sometimes accompanied foreign guests to Fauxe Gardens, like local hosts showing the tourists around.
“Leon and I are wearied from the events running all day long, and would like to rest fully for tomorrow night’s ball,” the queen tells me. “The gardens will be more fun for you young people.”
Naturally we have to change again after dinner. After Mabel and Amelie fuss over my hair and gown and shoes, I enter the sitting room, where Edward is already lounging on the sofa, reading a letter. I don’t like keeping him waiting, but then he doesn’t have to lace himself into a corset.
“Change it.”
“Change what?”
“Your dress.” His gaze drops to my collarbone—I’m wearing an off-shoulder gown that reveals my shoulders, but barely any cleavage. “That brother of the emperor is going to be there, and I would not like his eyes on your bare skin.”
“Jérôme?” Since that uneasy introduction to the emperor’s brother, I’ve been wary of him, but so far he hasn’t done anything improper save for a few curious stares in my direction.
“Haven’t you seen how he was gazing at you?” Edward advances a step toward me. He is frowning, and I feel like teasing his mouth into a grin. “He is well known to be sexually promiscuous among the Moryn elite, and I’ve yet to hear of a Moryn elite who has less than a dozen mistresses or paramours.”
“I don’t really like how he looks at me either,” I confess. “But look at it objectively. There are many women at court who are single and prettier than me, so why would he want to flirt with me? Maybe he’s speculating how I came to be princess of Athelia. You know so many people, nobles and commoners included, have wondered why you chose me at the ball.”
“I doubt he would have the temerity to make a move on you, but nevertheless, remember that the Moryns are less inhibited when it comes to interacting with the opposite sex. Do not allow him to take advantage and then make excuses for him.”
I raise my hand, shaped into a fist. “Don’t you worry, Edward. I can defend myself if the need comes for it. He’ll never expect that a princess knows how to throw a punch.”
He stares at me, the corner of his lip twitching. Feeling self-conscious, I lower my fist, but he moves closer and cups my cheek, his gaze filled with affection.
“If only I had a mirror,” he murmurs. “You have no idea how adorable you looked when you talked like that with your fist raised.”
My heart starts to flutter and I lean into his touch, wishing that we didn’t have to go out. I would much rather stay here with my royal husband.
The clock strikes at that moment. A few seconds later, Amelie enters the sitting room and Edward drops his arm with unfeigned reluctance.
“The Moryns are waiting,” she says, her face expressionless as usual. “Due to the number of security guards accompanying you, it is expected that the journey to the gardens will be longer than normally required.”
Edward gestures at my gown. “Bring the princess a wrap or scarf. She should not be out walking in the night without some protection.”
A quizzical look passes in Amelie’s eyes, but it’s gone in an instant. “Certainly, Your Highness.”
* * *
Simone and Jérôme are waiting at the foot of the grand staircase near the entrance of the palace. Both of them are dressed exquisitely in the finest silk and velvet, and adorned with glittering jewelry. Simone, in particular, seems to have stepped out of a storybook. In her pale blue gown that must contain a huge crinoline, and a dainty diamond tiara sparkling in her mass of golden hair, she is the quintessential fairytale princess.
“Augustin will not be coming with us to Fauxe Gardens,” she says, shaking her long feathery curls. As an unmarried lady, she can have the luxury of having her hair down. “He ate too much lobster at dinner and is currently suffering from a stomachache. Serves him right.”
“Hence he sent me in his place.” Jérôme makes a grandiloquent bow and offers me his arm. “However, I am confident that you will find me every bit as charming as my brother. May I escort you to the carriage, Princess Katriona?”
I hesitate, but it’s unlikely that I can refuse. Augustin would have escorted me if he were present.
“Where’s Henry?” Edward says, looking around. “He is supposed to join us.”
“I’m afraid he won’t be able to make an appearance either,” Jérôme says. “He seems to be greatly taken with Francis and wishes to spend more time with him.”
I blink. Has Henry suddenly fallen for a man from Moryn?
“Oh, stop teasing her, Jérôme,” Simone admonishes in the tone of a bossy older sister, though it’s clear she’s at least ten years younger than him. “Francis is Augustin’s personal doctor. Duke Henry has been asking him about his work since he arrived.”
“That may be expected,” Edward says. “Dr. Durant is renowned for the introduction of intravenous therapy. Henry has always idolized him.”
“But they could have come along as well,” Simone says, frowning. “Isn’t it common for people to stroll in the gardens and chat?”
“It is not ideal for serious conversation. Music entertainment—whether it may be vocal or instrumental—is always readily available, and there are firework displays during summer nights.”
Simone looks excited. “Oh, how positively lovely! I must ask Augustin to build a similar one in Moryn when we go home.”
* * *
Fauxe Gardens is indeed magnificent. At night, you can’t see the vibrant colors of the flowerbeds, but there’s a magical atmosphere when the walks are illuminated by hundreds of glass lamps swinging gently in the breeze. A golden pavilion is set up in the very middle of the venue, and an orchestra is playing. The spectators gathered around seem to be appreciative of the music—no dancing, however.
“Why aren’t they dancing?” Simone asks curiously. “I would dearly enjoy a waltz or quadrille in the open air.”
“It depends on the orchestra,” Edward explains. As we meander in the gardens, he has taken care to walk behind Jérôme and me—supposedly so he can keep an eye on us. Even when Simone sometimes exclaims at some display and hurries ahead, he doesn’t budge. “However, it is my understanding that dancing is discouraged in Fauxe, for the insufficient lighting means that it is likely to facilitate inappropriate contact with the partner. Moreover, the long, dewy grass may cause a nuisance for a lady’s dress, especially if the material is particularly fine.”
“It is because we are in a fancy establishment, dear sister,” Jérôme drawls. “Now, Rayon Gardens is an entirely different matter.”
Edward pauses in his step. “You have been to Rayon?”
Jérôme shrugs in a nonchalant manner. I wonder what it would take to unsettle him.
As the emperor’s brother, he can have anything he wants without the stress and responsibilities that go along with the privileges he is bestowed. “Twice, in fact. I find the lively steps of the bourgeois dances very much to my liking. And the women less prudish.”
Simone smacks his arm. “Remember what Augustin told you, you oaf. The customs are different here.”
Edward had said that Moryns are less fussy with the old-fashioned Athelian rules. Just the action of Simone slapping her future brother-in-law is enough to signify that.
Fireworks start exploding in the sky, a perfect diversion at the moment. As everyone points at the sky and gasps in wonder, the tension between Edward and Jérôme is temporarily on hold.
“Your husband seems uncommonly protective,” Jérôme says lightly. “It is not as if I could impregnate a lady from a mere glance, my dear Princess Katriona.”
I cough. In Athelia, I doubt any man could say the word ‘impregnate’ in front of me, unless it’s a doctor. “I’m afraid your reputation precedes you, Your Grace.”
He looks at me closely, and there’s the same intense expression that appeared when he arrived at the palace.
“Have you never visited Moryn before?”
I think hard, but I’m positive that I have never set foot in his country. Taking a journey to a foreign country would have left a deep impression in my mind, yet I can’t remember anything. Edward never mentioned anything about me visiting Moryn either.
“I don’t think so.” Then, remembering I have to be diplomatic, I add, “But I’d love to visit one day. Edward has been telling me how beautiful the city is, especially the palace.”
“When I was driving in the capital about a month ago, I thought there was a young woman in the streets who looked rather similar to you.” Jérôme stares at me for a moment, then shakes his head. “It was a fleeting glance, however, so I could be mistaken.”
