Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales Book 2)

by Aya Ling

  “Um . . .” Though I don’t want to cause him worry, I owe him my honesty. “Krev gave it to me.”

  “Why did he do it?” Alarm is evident in his voice. “Does it hurt when I touch you like this?”

  “No, I don’t feel any pain.” I relate to him that Krev showed up, but I omit the part of the goblin telling me to stay away from Edward. “It seems that the goblin world isn’t the same as before. Before we married, Krev never seemed to have any trouble when he came by to visit.”

  “I don’t like this,” he says darkly. “The goblin told you that you had to go home and gave you this mark. Maybe the next time the goblin comes, magic will trigger the mark and you’ll be sent away to your world.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, then he’d better give you a mark as well, because you’re coming with me,” I say. “And we’ll both come back to Athelia.”

  But deep down inside, I feel that it isn’t going to be that simple. From my experience with the goblins, rarely does Krev ever grant what I want. Anyway, we’ll make it work. Nothing will make me leave Edward.

  Little did I know how wrong I was.

  * * *

  The following days pass in a period of hazy bliss. As if to make up for the nights that he had to sleep alone, Edward refuses to go to bed until I join him. I wonder what the king and queen would say if they knew their son, who usually looks so serious in public, could be so passionate in private. His desire burns fiercely and intensely from the restraint of several months and the need to ensure that I’m not going anywhere. I had to sew the buttons back onto my nightgown one morning. I could have asked the maids to do it, but I’d rather not endure Mabel’s smirking.

  Anyway, apart from admonishing Edward about the nightgown, I don’t mind—it’s sweet that I can reciprocate his affection. Sometimes, it feels like his passion isn’t merely to satiate his hunger, but that the act could bind me more securely to him, to this world. If I get pregnant, it’ll be very unlikely that I’ll want to return home. Even when I’ve promised him I won’t leave him, there are times that he still gets anxious that I might change my mind if Krev shows up. But if we have a child, I’ll have a greater incentive to stay.

  Not all the time is spent in his arms, however. I have to comb through the books and articles I’ve found on education, jot down copious notes, work out advantageous points, and eventually organize everything together into a coherent draft.

  One evening, I finally have the proposal done. I have Edward sit with me on the window seat and go through the steps toward achieving compulsory education.

  “First, there must be funding allocated to establish enough schools,” Edward reads from the paper. “Actually, I could append a suggestion. When we were planning for model housing to demolish city slums, it was intended that a number of parks would be arranged with the new housing. I suggest that for every three parks, there should be an elementary school to go with it.”

  I give him a thumbs-up. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Second, parents have to send their children to school, or they will face sanctions. In the case of the working-class, the parents are usually the ones who most oppose letting their children attend school.”

  “We have to persuade them that in the long run, it’ll be better for the children to be educated,” I say. “Think of all the opportunities a child can have if he can read and write.”

  “Three, set the minimum age that children are allowed to leave school.”

  “I suppose eighteen is asking too much?”

  Edward smiles wryly. “I’d say twelve would be the ideal age. Father replaced my tutors when I turned twelve. From what I’ve heard of the boys’ schools in the city, students are usually twelve or thirteen when they begin secondary school.”

  I nod. I still don’t like the idea of a twelve-year-old in the factories—Paige was still impossibly cute when she was twelve—but it’s Athelia. Making education mandatory is already something akin to a miracle.

  “Let us submit the plan to the Minister of Education tomorrow. I don’t expect we will have any remote chance of success right away, but we can plant the idea in their heads.”

  “Drill the idea into their heads,” I say emphatically. “In advertising, consumers usually have to see a product seven times before they’re convinced to buy it.”

  Edward looks amused. “Never can I estimate the breadth and variety of knowledge in your head.”

  I grin at him. “That’s why you married me.”

  * * *

  The very next day, Edward asks George to schedule an appointment with Lord Dudley, the Minister of Education. I wonder why the government officials have a title. Even Edward’s own secretary is called Sir George.

  “Your Highness,” Lord Dudley says, giving me a dubious glance when he enters Edward’s office. I had refused to remove my desk, even though gossip had informed me that some courtiers disapprove strongly of me working at Edward’s side. “To what honor do I have that you wish to see me?”

  “Have a seat.” Edward gestures to a chair directly opposite him. “George, bring us some tea.”

  Lord Dudley sits down, but the bemused look in his eyes still remains. Tea means a discussion, not simply a command or question. Back when I was going on calls with Bianca, I could tell whether it was going to be a short or long call, judging by whether the lady asked us to remove our hats or called for tea.

  “We apologize for this sudden appointment,” I say, which earns another suspicious look from Lord Dudley, who glances quickly at Edward, as if I’m supposed to be invisible or deaf. “You see, Edward and I have this plan.”

  I swear, a frightened look passes his face. You’d think I were announcing a plan to take over Athelia and crown myself as empress.

  Edward slides a sheaf of papers toward Lord Dudley. The latter takes it, and his jaw drops when he glances at the very first page.

  “Are you suggesting, Your Highness, that ALL CHILDREN before the age of twelve must attend school?”

  I really don’t see what he has to be so astonished about, but then I remind myself for the umpteenth time that this is Athelia.

  “I understand that this is going to be a monstrous project, and it might even take years for it to be realized,” Edward says, steepling his fingers together. “However, we believe that the benefits will be worth it in the long run.”

  I cannot help but grin when he says we. If there wasn’t a space between our desks, I would have reached out and taken his hand.

  Lord Dudley, however, still looks dazed, as though he hasn’t recovered from a strong blow. “But . . . I really don’t think that this is feasible, Your Highness. Are you saying that this applies to all children of Athelia? Most parents won’t be able to spare their children! And think of the amount of funding required! You are taking a radical leap here.”

  “I am well aware,” Edward says in his aristocratic tone, which I can’t help but appreciate for now, “of the difficulties you outlined. Hence, we chose to submit a plan on paper. If you would kindly take the time to go through the plan, instead of skimming through the first page, we would be glad to hear what can be improved.”

  Lord Dudley starts reading like an obedient child. I raise an eyebrow at Edward, my feelings mixed. Even if he has no executive power in Athelia, it appears that being a prince still commands a great deal of respect and deference from his subjects.

  Edward only winks.

  I finish my second cup of tea when Lord Dudley raises his head. “Your Highness,” he says, still looking at Edward only. “I . . . I fear that I cannot advance an opinion at this moment. I would beg that you allow me to show this project to my colleagues and discuss it with them.”

  Edward and I look at each other. I guess it is too much to ask for the Minister of Education to agree at this point. Indeed, were I in his place, I would also prefer to have a discussion with several people rather than accepting it right away. Still, with the reluctance he shows, I think it is more of an unwillingness to rej
ect us right away rather than seriously considering the possibility of the project.

  “Certainly, Dudley,” Edward says. “This is no simple task. Take all the time you need. We anticipate a favorable answer.”

  When Lord Dudley leaves, I sink in my chair. “Do you think it’s possible that the Ministry of Education will approve the project?”

  Edward takes a book from the shelf and lays it on his desk. “They will, eventually. I read through your proposal this morning, when you were still dealing with your letters in our suite, and the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced of the necessity of compulsory education. Whatever job our citizens take, all will benefit from literacy, math, and basic knowledge.”

  He comes to my side and lays his hand over mine, his back facing the entrance. Although we’re spending every night together, Edward still snatches the chance for a covert caress or whispered endearment during the day. “If it weren’t for you, Kat, this idea wouldn’t have occurred to me.” His fingers stroke the back of my hand. “Having you by my side is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  I smile up at him. “That was my line.”

  Someone coughs in the doorway. Startled, I pull my hand back and Edward turns around. Uh-oh. We were so focused on each other that neither of us heard the approaching footsteps. I can’t entirely blame those courtiers for criticizing my working in Edward’s office.

  It’s Lord Mansfield. His black wool hat is askew, and he is breathing heavily, both hands pressed on his knees. He must have sprinted on his way here.

  Edward calmly pours him a glass of water. Lord Mansfield takes a swig, but soon he sets the glass on a table.

  “Thank you, Your Highness. I…uh…actually, I was informed that Princess Katriona is here.”

  I stand up, surprised. “You wanted to speak to me?”

  He adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves, as though they were chafing his wrists. There’s anxiety written in his face. “Several days ago, when I was on a hunting trip up north, Aunt Margaret invited you to tea. She had a sudden heart attack, and you brought her to the hospital. The staff contacted me when I returned.”

  I nod. “Is she all right now?”

  Lord Mansfield wipes his forehead, which is dotted with sweat. “She has disappeared.”

  “No! Seriously? She never returned home?”

  “Never. Her conditions were stabilized, and the doctor was all prepared to write me a note and ask to have her sent home, but when he went to check on her, her bed was empty. They conducted a search in the entire hospital—they even looked for footprints under the windows—but there was no trace of her.”

  “Maybe—” I start, then shut my mouth. Can it be that Meg came for her mother? But why would she take Lady Gregory away, when the old lady is content to remain in Athelia? “How long has it been since she disappeared?”

  “Two days.” Lord Mansfield swallows. “I’ve asked her friends in her crochet group, but no one has any idea. Then I remembered the staff had mentioned that you were the one who brought her to the hospital, so I decided to come and ask if you might have any idea.”

  I wonder if I should mention Meg, but I decide not to risk it. Athelians don’t believe in fairies and magic. It’s more likely that Lord Mansfield doesn’t know about Lady Gregory’s fairy husband and half-fae daughter; otherwise she wouldn’t have needed me to give that silver lily to Lysander.

  “I’m sorry, but I really don’t know.” I give him an apologetic shrug. On the other hand, if Lady Gregory’s disappearance has nothing to do with the fairies, then it is indeed cause for concern. “Have you notified the police?”

  “Not yet. You’re the last person I thought of, and since you don’t know where Aunt Margaret might be, I’ll head over to the Metropolitan Police Headquarters now.” Lord Mansfield picks up his hat, then makes me a bow. “I haven’t yet had a chance to thank you, Princess Katriona, for saving my aunt’s life.”

  I incline my head in a perfect angle that would make the king and queen proud. “You’re very welcome, Lord Mansfield. I’m glad that I was there that day; Lady Gregory is my friend. Please send a message to me if you receive any word of her whereabouts.”

  “I certainly shall.” He bows slightly at Edward and says, “Apologies for interrupting you at work, Your Highness.”

  Once Lord Mansfield has left the office, Edward and I look at each other. I had told him all about Lady Gregory. Though he has never met her, Edward always shows concern because if it weren’t for her and Meg, I couldn’t have made it to the ball.

  “What do you make of this?” Edward says in a low voice.

  I bite the inside of my cheek. “My guess is that Meg came that day when Lady Gregory had a heart attack, failed to see her mother, and later found her at the hospital. But I’m only guessing here. I just hope that she is safe.”

  39

  A few days later, there’s still no word of Lady Gregory. I pay a visit to Mansfield House; her room looks exactly the same as when I left it, until I realize the handheld mirror is missing. Maybe Lysander finally persuaded Lady Gregory to go back to him and spend the remaining time of her life in the fae realm. Maybe the heart attack changed her mind. Hopefully I’ll hear from her soon.

  Back at the palace, I arrive at Edward’s office later than usual. I almost crash into Lord Dudley, who happens to be emerging from Edward’s office.

  “Sorry, Your Highness. Didn’t see you coming this way.” He raises his hat and bows. “I . . . His Highness will inform you of my visit.”

  And he rushes out, as though he couldn’t bear my presence any longer. Maybe the air that comes from my nostrils is poisoning him.

  I shrug and enter Edward’s office. “Did he come to tell you of his decision? Don’t tell me that he accepted our plan. It is easier to believe that Andrew McVean suddenly decided to donate all of his income to charity.”

  “His decision is not surprising,” Edward says, pulling out my chair. I once mentioned to him that I can do it by myself, but he tells me that he is doing it because he welcomes my company, not because he’s adhering to some old-fashioned gentleman code in Athelia. “He told me that the ministry would support the plan once Parliament approves.”

  “So, this is it, then.” I sigh. “We’ll have to go through the same process as we did for the Eight-Hour Act.”

  “There is still a long time until Parliament re-opens,” Edward says in a soothing tone. “You can do research in the library, and with experience from last time, we can use a similar sentiment to appeal to the public.”

  I nod. It’s likely to be a long journey, but I’m going to do my best to improve the welfare of my subjects. I refuse to be a conventional princess whose only purpose in life is to bear heirs.

  After helping him proofread a draft for a trade agreement, I return to the suite, feeling like taking a nice long nap on the sofa near the window seat. No sooner have I snuggled on the sofa with a couple of cushions, when Mabel comes bouncing into the study, exclaiming that I have a party invitation.

  “It’s from Lady Maynard! She’s getting engaged to the Marquess of Sunderland! She sent an invitation for her engagement party.”

  Lady Maynard? I take the card and turn it over on my palm. You are cordially invited to the Engagement Event of Mr. David Waterford, the Marquess of Sunderland, and Miss Lillie Maynard, younger sister of the Duchess of Northport.

  An angelic face framed by strawberry blonde hair enters my mind. So, it’s Lillie, the younger sister of Constance, who married Edward’s cousin. Lillie had a crush on Edward. She tried to get his attention before we were officially engaged, but naturally she didn’t succeed.

  I shudder. Thankfully, I didn’t let her marry Edward. What if I returned and found it was Lillie at the wedding altar?

  “Do you know anything about Sunderland?” I say. Mabel lives for gossip.

  “Oh, he has two townhouses and a country manor and an old castle in the north! I’ve heard he keeps more than a thousand servants, and .
. .”

  “Is he a nice guy? I mean, what is his reputation?”

  Mabel puckers her forehead. “If he has any illegitimate children, he is being very discreet.”

  God, I really need to adjust to the Athelian mind. On the other hand, it seems that if a man is stupendously rich, then it’s expected that he would have children out of wedlock. Really, Edward is a rare species.

  “He must have some good qualities. Lady Maynard doesn’t seem the type to settle for an ordinary man,” Mabel says confidently. “Anyway, you’ll meet him soon at the engagement. Now, would you like to see the surprise Amelie and I got for you?”

  Somehow, her excited voice doesn’t make me excited as well.

  “Come, Princess,” Mabel urges. “Come and see the surprise we got.”

  I follow her to my bedroom, wondering if it’s some new flower from Edward’s garden, but I don’t see anything unusual in the room.

  “Over there!” Mabel points. “The tailors have designed a new gown for you!”

  “Another one?” I stifle a groan. “I told them I have more than enough.”

  “Oh, but I’m sure that you would like this! Weren’t you complaining about corsets that are too tight? Well, Moryn’s latest fashion trend is this tea gown—it has built-in padding so you needn’t wear a corset!”

  I glance at the bed, where said tea gown is spread out on the sheets. It is the color of heliotropes, trimmed with satin ribbons, with a fancy bow at the neckline and a skirt long enough to trail on the ground. It looks similar to any fancy gown, but when I pick it up, I notice that the chest area is padded like a bra top, but the material is much thicker.

  “Aren’t you going to that engagement party for Lady Maynard? This will be just the thing! You won’t have to worry about your corset squeezing your ribs when you dance, and His Highness won’t have to worry if you get dizzy and faint! Although it has become quite fashionable to faint, especially when there’s a crowd . . .”