by Aya Ling
And so I trudge up the stairs, full of anticipation. Poppy’s hair is frazzled and her dress wrinkled, but her smile is bright and infectious.
“Kat, dear, what took you so long? You promised you’d come visit me soon.”
“I’m sorry.” I resist the urge to pinch Little Katriona’s cheeks. “Our schedule was full from day to night when the Moryn emperor came to visit, and . . .”
One of the twins starts bawling.
“Sebastian, you were supposed to fall asleep after I fed you!” Poppy groans and rushes to the crib while clutching her twin daughter in her right arm.
As if infected by her brother’s wails, Little Katriona starts to scream like she’s going to have a career in opera in the future. Looks like we won’t be able to have a normal conversation unless the babies fall asleep.
“Mercy me, she is hungry again!” Poppy exclaims, flinging a smock over her dress. “I swear, with so many times I have to feed her during the day, she’s going to resemble a balloon.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Can you help me put Sebastian to sleep? I’ve been trying so hard to have them wake up and go to sleep on the same routine, but they haven’t been adapting as well as I hoped. Seems that little Katriona is determined to feed on her own without her brother. She’s awfully stubborn.” Poppy looks up and gives me a mischievous wink. “Maybe it has something to do with her namesake.”
“Oh, I’m sure it has.” I have to smile as well. “So how do you usually put a baby to sleep?”
“Try to give him a simple massage. Rub his back, his feet, and his tummy. Sebastian really likes it. Oh, and sing while you’re doing it. The softer and slower the tune, the better.”
I freeze for a moment. I thought I had learned enough of what I needed to survive in Athelia, but I have yet to remember an entire song. There were times when Lady Bradshaw had me practice on the piano, but I was so incompetent that I can barely remember anything now.
But Poppy is already lifting little Katriona out of the crib and spreading a towel and pillow on her lap. Sebastian looks up at me expectantly with large, limpid eyes, as though he understands what his mother just said. Maybe if she is fully occupied, she won’t notice what I’m singing.
“All right, little fellow,” I say under my breath. “You are going to have the honor of hearing a tune that no one else in this world has ever heard.”
I hum the common lullaby that Mom used to sing to Paige when she was still a baby. While I sing, I reach out and gently massage Sebastian’s tummy in small circles. I know this lullaby by heart, since my parents’ relationship had drastically gotten worse since Paige’s birth. Dad had thought he would be able to go off to focus on his dental degree, but then a new baby had to arrive. So many times, I had witnessed Mom wiping her tears as she tried to sing Paige to sleep.
“Kat? Why are you crying?”
I realize that a big, fat tear had dropped on my arm, wetting my embroidered sleeve. “Oh, nothing. I just thought of something in the past.”
Poppy cradles little Katriona in her arms, the latter as quiet as a mouse now. “That tune you were humming . . . was it from your world?”
Wow, Poppy can be super perceptive sometimes. And then I’m reminded that she is the only person in Athelia, apart from Edward, who knows that I am from another world.
“Yes.”
Poppy gets me a handkerchief. “There. Suppose we put the twins to sleep and go downstairs. They sleep more soundly if we leave them alone.”
It doesn’t take long to see both babies breathing quietly, eyes closed, sleeping side by side. It’s difficult to imagine what a racket they must make when awake. Poppy takes off her smock, gathers the dirty towels, and beckons to me. “Let’s go,” she whispers.
In the kitchen, we discover that the cook has returned with a fresh batch of scones from the market. Poppy tells the cook to boil some tea and leads me to the sitting room.
“Take one.” Poppy pushes the plate of scones to me. “No, take two. As many as you want. Those scones won’t taste as good if they go cold.”
I do as she says. The buttery smell is heavenly, matching the tangy taste of dried cranberries sprinkled on the tops.
“I suppose you must miss your family,” Poppy says, a sympathetic look in her eyes. “When I got pregnant with Sebastian and little Katriona, I did miss my mother so, especially when Jonathan was working long hours. It must be even more difficult for you, Kat. Is there no way that you can see them again?”
Krev’s warning pops into my head, menacing and intimidating. In the past, when I was still Lady Bradshaw’s second daughter, I always thought of the goblin as a fun-loving prankster, annoying but never threatening. But I still feel a shudder when I remember how he loomed before me, with those huge yellow eyes unblinking, telling me that I can’t fall in love with Edward.
Too late.
“Poppy,” I say hesitantly. “Hypothetically, if someone were to tell you that you can’t marry Mr. Davenport, and that you must return to your family and stay there and never see him again, what would you do?”
Poppy looks alarmed. “Kat, what are you talking about?”
“Pretend I never told you this.” I take a sip of tea. To tell the truth, it’s too bitter for my taste, but I revel in it anyway. “Suppose the goblin shows up and tells me that I don’t belong in Athelia and I must leave Edward. What should I do?”
Poppy’s eyes go so round that she looks like a comedian. “You can’t leave His Highness! Why, you’ve been married for a year!”
“Six months,” I correct her. “Anyway, the length doesn’t matter. What would you do if you were in my situation?”
“I’d stay,” she says stoutly. “I’d tell that goblin to disappear.”
I have to smile. “But what if the goblin is right?”
“I’d stay.”
She sounds so . . . Poppy-like.
“Now, don’t you get any ideas,” Poppy says. “His Highness loves you. I’ve seen how he looks at you. You are not going to desert him. If you do, I’ll . . . I’ll . . .” She pauses, apparently unable to come up with a threat for her best friend who is also a princess. “Just forget about returning to your own world. You have a new family here.”
I nod. I do so want to reciprocate Edward’s affection. Next time Krev screams in my head, I’m going to do my best to ignore it. Maybe, if I try hard enough, his annoying voice will go away. Just as I managed to break through the memory barrier.
Someone knocks on the door.
“I’ll get it,” I say, seeing dark circles under Poppy’s eyes. As a mother of newborns, it’s impossible that she can sleep well.
Elle stands on the doorstep, her cheeks rosy red from the chilly autumn air and a large wicker basket hanging from her arm. Her dress and cloak are plain—you can’t tell that she’s an earl’s daughter, but she’s beautiful anyway. She gives me a radiant smile and takes my hands.
“I’m so glad to see you, Kat.”
“And I you,” I say, marveling at how Athelian speech patterns have influenced my way of speaking.
“Is that Elle at the door?” Poppy’s voice floats from the kitchen.
“Yes, dear cousin.” Elle comes in and sets her basket on the table. “I just got back from my father’s estate up north. Here, I brought some blueberries from our garden. The housekeeper insists that blueberries are good for new mothers. How are Sebastian and little Katriona? They’re sleeping? Then I must come back another time when they’re awake. Nothing pleases me more than playing with my niece and nephew.”
Poppy jumps up and gives Elle a hug. It’s lovely, seeing that my best friend and Cinderella are cousins. I’m already so lucky to have Edward, and even luckier to have these girls as my friends.
“How did you deal with the dispute with the tenants?” I ask. “I mean, since you’re not used to the role of a mistress, were they willing to listen to you?”
Elle smiles. “As long as you take the effort to see t
hings from each person’s perspective, it is not difficult to persuade them to come to a compromise. I suppose it also helps that I do not issue commands, but rather offer suggestions, so they are less likely to be affronted.”
“Good for you,” I say, impressed. I knew there’s more to Elle than her usual shyness.
“How are things between you and Henry?” Poppy asks. “Has the duchess finally relented? Honestly, I don’t understand why she’s so stubborn. It’s not as if Henry is marrying beneath his station.”
“Maybe you can consider running off to Ruby Red,” I say, with a wink at Poppy. “I won’t mind being a witness at the altar again.”
Elle looks down and tugs on her skirt. “Actually, Henry has more important things to worry about.”
Both Poppy and I make indignant noises.
“Dr. Durant invited Henry to do research with him for a year.”
I let out an unladylike whoop. “Awesome. It’s what Henry always wanted.” I know that as a general rule, gentlemen don’t work. Imagine having a duke asking you if he could take your pulse or prescribe you pills. People are unlikely to take him seriously. However, doing research with the renowned Moryn doctor is another story.
“Who’s Dr. Durant?” Poppy asks. I explain, adding that I had seen Henry spending more time conversing with the Moryn physician than dancing at the ball.
“But of course, her ladyship is unwilling to let Henry go. Thomas, Henry’s butler, tells me that the grand duke has been in poor health lately. Her ladyship wishes that Henry cease his medical career and inherit the family business.”
“Family business?” I say. “What kind of family business is it that Henry has to take over?” It’s not as if he were a blacksmith or a shoemaker.
“There is the grand duke’s property—for example, Somerset Hall—to take care of. He has to oversee the living conditions of his tenants, make sure that the taxes are collected, and he needs a mistress to supervise the servants in the manor.”
“Can’t someone else take over instead? Doesn’t Henry have any brothers or sisters who could do that for him?”
Elle shakes her head. “He is an only child, like His Highness. He has a few cousins, but they are too young to be seriously considered, not to mention that Henry is the perfect candidate.”
“How does Henry feel about this?” Poppy asks.
“He doesn’t want to inherit,” Elle says quietly. “Being a doctor is all he ever wanted. When Mamsie had cholera, he worked so hard to relieve her pain and oversee her recovery. I could tell he takes pride in his work. But the duchess told him that she had indulged him for far too long.”
That totally sucks. I haven’t personally experienced it myself, but I’ve known a few people in college who pursued a career that they didn’t really want but were doing it to fulfill their parents’ ambitions.
“The duchess should have considered Henry’s feelings on this matter,” I finally say. “Suppose he inherits the property and everything. He isn’t going to do a good job because his heart isn’t in it.” And if the duchess forces him to marry a girl who would be a perfect duchess, but someone Henry doesn’t love, he will be even more unhappy.
Elle twists her fingers on her dress. She always does that when she’s agitated. “I don’t know what to do, Kat. I can’t ask him to give up his duty to his family, nor can I become the ideal wife that the duchess has in mind.”
A tear leaks from her eye. Poppy quickly gets her a handkerchief, and I pat Elle on the back, wishing there were something I could do.
“She’ll come around,” I finally say. “You two deserve a happy ending.”
But my voice sounds hollow, flat. Perhaps it’s because I can’t figure out a way to help Henry and Elle. Or maybe because I’m also frustrated at my relationship with Edward. There’s a reason why happily-ever-after is never easy to achieve.
32
I spend almost every day at the palace library and at Edward’s office, trying to find any fact, any experiment, any data that would be useful for our argument for the Minimum Wage Act. I would have also helped with the Food and Drugs Act, but there are too many terms that I’m unfamiliar with, so I decide to leave it to Henry. Since I cannot search electronically, I do my best with index cards, and in several days I’ve managed to accumulate an entire notebook.
One morning, when I’m done with letter-writing, I sit down at the desk and pore over my notes.
“According to the survey done by the University a year ago,” I read, “for every year a schoolboy spends in school, he will practically gain five to ten percent of his future salary. This, of course, is a general finding. It should also be noted that the maximum is reached when the student graduates from university.”
“Interesting.” Edward’s voice, husky and deep, is alarmingly close. He leans over my shoulder, peering at my notebook. The warm breath he exhales warms my cheek and his hair brushes against my ear. Yet, he appears to take no notice of me, his attention fixed on my admittedly cramped, messy handwriting.
“When did you come in?” I try to sound annoyed, but my voice comes out breathless. Dang. I hate it when he uses his proximity to distract me.
“You were too focused on your work to notice my appearance,” he says, running a finger down a sentence.
“Don’t you have to work in the morning?”
“You forgot the tea break,” he says, sounding amused. He still hasn’t moved from his position behind me. Were it not for the chair, he could have embraced me.
I am going to seduce you, his voice echoes in my mind. I should evade him before Krev returns, yet I don’t feel like pulling away. I don’t feel like moving.
“How many days do we have?”
“Next Tuesday will be the last day of Parliament.” Edward finally gets up, and I wish he hadn’t. I admit I enjoyed the nearness of his body, and the thrill from his deep voice was sending dangerous signals to my brain.
He glances at the bookshelves, which are almost filled to the brim. “You know, Kat, if you want anything, you need only to ask. You are as much mistress of this household as I am master.”
My heart feels full, touched by his kindness and generosity. “I will. Thank you.”
I don’t know what happened to me—maybe I wanted to feel his body close to mine again—but I rise from my chair and lean against his chest. He sighs very gently, a slow, contented exhale, then his arms go around me, clasping my waist like a belt. His lips graze my neck, sending sparks running down my spine. Together, we look down at the gardens below. My mind is a blank slate, wiped clean of any thought but the desire to be wrapped in his embrace.
“Stay.” He doesn’t say it loudly, but the word is distinct. “Don’t leave me here alone.”
Say yes, my brain screams. You know that even if you get a chance to go home, you can’t forget him.
I bite my lip, but my mind is made up. Screw the goblins. I’m going to tell him . . .
Don’t fall in love with him, girlie!
“Shut. Up,” I mutter. Krev’s voice isn’t as loud as the first time, but it’s still bothersome. God, when will he leave me alone?
Edward’s body tenses. “What did you say?”
Alarmed, I realize that I just said my words out loud. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I was . . .”
Girlie!
I grit my teeth. At least Krev’s voice is weaker now. It’ll die away eventually. It has to.
“I . . . I have scheduled a visit to the school today,” I say lamely, forcing myself to slip away from his arms. I shut my notebook and hand it to him. “They are holding a meeting to discuss the decreasing number of students. Here, take my notes. I know my handwriting sucks, but it isn’t incomprehensible.”
I head to the door, not daring to look at his face. Because if I do, I’m certain I’ll beat myself up for causing him pain.
* * *
Princess College seems quieter than usual when I enter the gates and ascend the steps leading to the entrance.
&
nbsp; I’m early, since I had to tear myself away from Edward. Classes are in session, so I can’t go and see Rosie right now. I consider talking to Miss Cavendish about Molly and the working-class girls. If anything, I can use a cup of hot cocoa. The wind has been relentless since I stepped off my carriage.
“Katriona.” Liam approaches me, a stack of papers under his arm. “How generous of you to continue supporting the school, considering its precarious state.”
I do my best to keep my irritation bottled inside. “Good afternoon, Liam. Are you finished with your class today?”
He shakes his head. “My class was done yesterday. Today, I’m here to inform the headmistress of my desire to resign.” He indicates the papers he’s carrying. “All I need is to hand in the graded papers of my last class and my resignation letter.”
“You’re dropping out as well?”
“I’ve been offered another job by a lord. To put it bluntly, this other job provides better pay and more prominence than teaching schoolgirls. Not to mention that I fail to foresee a viable future for the girls.”
“That’s what you think.”
He flashes a cold smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Indeed, Your Highness, I wish no ill will. I am merely speaking in practical terms. Even if you can prevent the school from shutting down, there are only a handful of students left, and even then there’s little you can do for them. The University won’t recognize their diploma, nor let the girl students take part in the entrance exams.”
“We’ll work on that later,” I say. “Giving the girls a primary and secondary school education is only the first step. At least it’s an improvement. Think of the limited resources they had had, whether it may be an incompetent governess or no instruction at all. I don’t believe in deriding girls for their inferior intellect when you haven’t even given them a fair chance in the first place.”
Liam claps his hands, and the sound echoes in the hallway. “Bravo, Your Highness. Your argument is sound and your intentions most commendable. However, I’m afraid that the majority cannot understand what you endeavor, whether it may be a noble woman like Lady Willoughby or an impoverished laborer like Mr. Ripley.”
