It was time to visit Casablanca and unravel the truth.
“We dream to give ourselves hope.
To stop dreaming - well,
that’s like saying you can never change your fate.”
― Amy Tan
CHAPTER 7
MYRA
JUNE 12th 1415
I couldn’t believe my fate had brought me to Edward. This was something I had never even wished in my dreams because I knew it was impossible.
Could this be the most exciting time of my life?
Sitting so close to Edward—the only man I had ever desired. The way he had dragged me to the tower had been so harsh… but this morning, he had carried me as if I was a flower and the fear of breaking me was driving him crazy.
Now, as I sat close to him, I knew he was fully aware of my presence on his horse, even though I was sitting in front of him, his focus was on the grounds ahead of us. My left hand was placed on his shoulder for the support, and my feet were propped on one side as I couldn’t sit like he did due to my dress. The dress. I knew the delicate lace back had seduced him—I had felt the heat blazing off his chest when he’d come close behind my back in his chamber. The way he looked at me, it was as if he was etching me into his memory, like I was some fairy from Neverland. I wondered if Stella McCartney had that in her mind when she had designed this dress for me. But who would have imagined a mere lace back could seduce a medieval king-to-be?
I smiled at the stupid thought as I inhaled his masculine scent, which was his own, noticing and riveting every inch of his beautiful face. Although his eyes were dead steel like mine, but there was so much depth and darkness in them that if I tried to dive in this sea, I knew I wouldn’t come out clean.
If we were in a movie, I could easily say that a man would usually take advantage of this situation when a woman was so close to him—but damn him! I wanted him to take advantage of me or I wished I could be bold enough to hug him tightly or kiss him senseless while he was riding Ulysses. But this man was the most unpredictable man I had ever met. One moment he was rude to me, the next he was overprotective of me—especially when his father was kind to me.
King Stefan—how much I had dreaded that man in the past. I should probably still be afraid of him, but I was surprised at the way he had accepted me in his castle. Not like his son… who had locked me in the tower as soon as I had surrendered to his dreams. Yes, it had been Edward’s desire to see the woman of his dreams that had locked me up in the fifteenth century.
Was I still stuck in a dream? Or had I actually travelled through time? I’d had to pinch myself hard enough to grasp the truth, but yes… I couldn’t deny it. I was in Edward’s world—back in the fifteenth century when King Stefan ruled England.
Although I hated him last night for leaving me alone in the tower, but now, as I saw him so close to me, all my anger dissipated in the face of his charms. If I said he was very handsome, it was an understatement. I had never seen a man as sexy as Edward. I had no doubt he’d be a Hollywood celebrity playing the roles of warriors and knights, had he been born in the twenty-first century. He had that deadly look; yet, there was something deliciously sexy about him.
I was lost watching him closely when I realized he glanced at me. I felt his heart beating wildly. I knew I affected him, and that made me feel powerful in this situation. He was stubborn, cold hearted, jealous… but he was mine. I could break him, mend him, torture him, kiss him, love him, excite him—but I wouldn’t let him go.
As we rode off the cursed boundaries of Hue Castle, I wondered if he’d first visit Emma or would actually go hunting with the crossbow he had packed. I was looking forward to the day ahead of me. Meeting King Stefan had exhausted me—the way that pervert had looked at me—I knew he was awestruck. I had hit the right spot.
For the time being, I was sure he wouldn’t lay a finger on me; I knew Edward would protect me from his father’s filthy hands. The way he had reacted when his father kept touching me, the way his eyes had thrown cannonballs. He would not hesitate to kill his father in order to protect me. I was not sure if he had fallen in love with me or not but I knew he had desired me, and he’d do anything to protect me from his father. I knew he was afraid of love because that was how all Hue men were raised—love was a curse to them. Or he could be one of those children, who liked keeping a toy as a hostage, not sharing with anyone, despite not playing with the toy himself. He just wanted to make sure he had that toy at all times.
Edward’s hair moved gently in the warm breeze. I was desperate to run my fingers through his hair, but damn him—if he’d just put his stubborn arse aside and confess his feelings to me… I swore I’d give up my entire world for him.
He didn’t utter a single word in our journey. He thought I’d start a conversation here—well… he was sorely mistaken. I wanted to test how far he could stay rigid like a stone. But considering his past, I highly doubted he would say anything with this brooding attitude.
I looked around the fields. This place looked so amazingly different in this time. No roads, no highways, no cars, no pollution—just vast lush green carpets everywhere. The beauty of it all took my breath away. I was already looking forward to the night—to see the millions of stars that were usually hidden by the light pollution of the modern world.
As we rode to the village, my heart fluttered at the sight of the beautiful small houses made of wattle and daub, which we hardly see in our metropolitan cities, children playing in the streets without having to worry about cars, people selling fruits and vegetables, everything looked so pure and innocent. I had visited the later medieval era houses, made of brick and timber, the Tudor houses, but I had hardly seen these ones. They were made by first constructing the framework with timber, and then filling spaces with wattle. I had seen tall, two or three-storey houses, especially from medieval France, but this was something rare. I also noticed parts of the village, where poor peasants were still living in mud houses. I wondered if these people still paid taxes to King Stefan. They looked like they could hardly afford bread.
I remembered when I was fourteen, I had visited Sherborne in Dorset with my parents. Walking through the narrow cobblestoned streets, looking at the Tudor houses, I had imagined what it would be like to live in those houses. The houses I had seen were modernized and had been turned into motels, but here, people lived without modern-day necessities. They had no bathrooms, no facilities, no heaters, which were considered luxuries even in the early twentieth century.
My eyes swept across the village, grasping the atmosphere. It felt different from anything I knew. The air felt different.
Although everyone hated and feared King Stefan and they were all poor, they still looked so content as if they had everything they needed. They didn’t know how to run after money or expensive cars or grand houses or branded clothes. They led simple lives, enjoying the little things in life… rainbow, sunshine, rain, snow… but even these simple and little things were forbidden to the Hue family. The members of the royal family had everything in life one could hope for: luxury, wealth, power… yet, Edward was the poorest man in the entire kingdom because he couldn’t enjoy the simplest joys in his life.
I noticed the way Edward looked around, with awe and so much pain, how a common peasant was able to hold a flower, yet, he was cursed to even touch anything natural, despite being royalty. Did he consider himself less fortunate than these poor people? There was so much sadness in his eyes that it broke my heart. He wouldn’t say anything but I could feel how he felt this moment. I wish I could mend his soul and bring joy to his life.
He stopped by the village’s church and climbed off Ulysses. I waited for him to help me down, but he didn’t. Instead, he greeted the priest who’d come out of the church.
“Your Grace,” the priest bowed in front of Edward. “We are pleased you’re visiting our church.”
I recognized the church as the place where Veronica had exchanged vows with John—and the priest was the man I ha
d seen in Edward’s book.
“Father, I need your help,” Edward said to the old man.
“We are at your service, Your Grace,” the priest replied, still ignoring my presence.
“Was there any wedding in this church yesterday?” He glanced at me.
Oh!
“Yes, Your Grace,” the old man replied.
“I would like to know who exchanged the vows here yesterday,” he requested in a gentle, polite tone. “Perhaps, you could tell me where they live.”
“They live at the corner of the street, Your Grace. Mary and Norman were the bride and groom.”
“Thank you, Father,” Edward replied.
“Anything else you require, Your Grace?” he asked.
“No. Thank you for the information. I shall be leaving now.” Edward climbed on Ulysses again. I didn’t say anything. I glanced at the church again. It didn’t exist in my time. In fact, the entire village didn’t exist anymore. I hadn’t had a chance to research this village’s fate. Had it been burned down?
We rode all the way to the end of the street without speaking. People on the street shot us surprised looks—perhaps they had never seen the prince riding with a woman before or I had grown horns on my head.
A middle-aged woman was sweeping the street outside the corner house.
“Is this the house of Mary and Phillip?” Edward called out to her.
“Your Grace,” the old woman bowed in front of Edward.
“Norman,” I whispered, leaning towards him. “The priest said they were Mary and Norman.”
He met my gaze. Our mouths were an inch apart. Could I dare to steal a kiss?
“I’m sorry… is it Mary and Norman’s house, who were married yesterday?” he corrected himself, ignoring my desire.
“That’s my son and daughter-in-law. Have they done anything wrong, Your Grace?” The woman’s cheeks turned pale, her face horrified.
Edward got off the horse and walked towards the woman. I could see how much everyone feared the Hue family. The poor woman thought Edward would harm or punish her son. That’s what this family had been doing for centuries—torturing people for their own pleasure.
“I want to see Norman. Please, if you can call him.” Edward’s tone was gentle but the look on the woman’s face was smeared with dread. “Your son has not done anything wrong. I would just like to speak to him.”
It seemed like the poor woman had been holding her breath and at Edward reassurance, she released her breath.
“Please, come in, Your Grace. I will call him right away.” The woman hurried into the house.
Edward glanced at me. “Stay here. Don’t get down,” he instructed me.
He would just let me wait outside? How rude! I crossed my arms to show him my frustration, but he didn’t even acknowledge my reaction. He just followed the woman into the house, leaving me behind. I was fuming. Why couldn’t Prince Arse of Stubbornness be nice to me? Why the hell couldn’t he loosen up and treat me like the adult woman I was?
Inside the house, a man came to him and bowed. I couldn’t hear them now but I could sense Edward was confirming if they were married yesterday. Edward took out a black velvet pouch tied to the belt on his white breeches and lay in the man’s hand. I didn’t know what he was giving to the man. But as the man opened the pouch, his face showed all the colours of amusement. He called someone… a woman came next to him. She looked like his wife. He unloaded the pouch in the woman’s hand when the gold coins came out like spring showers on her hand. She was awestruck too. Obviously, being peasants, they had not seen so much gold in their lives. Edward was talking to both of them, and then he pointed towards me. The couple looked at me through the window in awe. I wondered what they were talking about and why did Edward give them gold coins? They bowed again in front of Edward. From the movement of their lips, I could relate they were thanking him for his generosity. Though I never read in his book that he donated gold to the newlywed couples to honour his sister’s wedding but I couldn’t see any other reason why he would give them so much gold. Maybe he was missing his sister… that’s why he went to the same church and thought of wishing the couple a happy married life since he couldn’t do anything about V.
My love for him deepened as I saw the gratitude from the newlyweds. He was so opposite of his father. Where on one hand, the king imposed higher taxes on the poor; his son was helping the poor behind the king’s back. Did King Stefan have any idea how his son was? He always thought Edward was like him—his reflection. There was so much love and empathy in Edward and he wanted to spread this love but he was bound and cursed. I could see he had a lot to give but people feared him so much that he was afraid of being nice to them. He had to maintain his fierce aura to the people so that his father could consider him as his proud heir. He was helpless from both ends. I wanted to be his shield… wanted to protect him with my love… only if he could bend a little bit towards me.
He finally came out of the house a few minutes later, his gaze not leaving mine. He moved swiftly… his aura emanating magnificence of royal blood. His every action was regal, and despite my anger, I could never get tired of just staring at him. He climbed back on Ulysses without uttering a single word. I waited for him to say something, for him to update me on what had happened inside that house, but he remained quiet.
When I couldn’t take the silence any longer, I asked: “What was this visit about?” He didn’t reply, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if perhaps he hadn’t heard me. “Do you visit newlyweds to honour your sister’s wedding?” I tried again, hoping Veronica’s name would make him talk.
He tilted his head, shooting me an angry look.
“If you would just shut up and stop lying to the king, I wouldn’t have to do the bloody damage control for you.”
Damage control? What a rude bastard!
“I know he will send someone to the village to inquire if the newlyweds know you,” he muttered, “and before he caught your lie—”
“You fixed it?” He’d only come to the village for me? So my lie wouldn’t get caught? I couldn’t believe he had bribed the newlyweds just for me. I wanted to kiss him right now, not caring if the entire village was watching, but I knew he was angry. I had made him break the rules—walking in the village, talking to the villagers without the king’s consent, and asking favours from peasants. I had put him in danger. If something came up against him, it would be my duty to protect him. I’d handle King Stefan then.
The tapping of Ulysses’ hooves echoed through the village while Edward didn’t say a single word.
“Do you ever smile, Edward?” I asked the brooding man, hoping to cheer him up. He didn’t bother replying; all he did was stare ahead. Such a sour man! “Okay, let me tell you a joke.” God! Can’t he just look at me? “A husband and a wife were sipping wine when the wife said, I love you. The husband asked, Is it the wine or you talking? The wife said, It’s me, talking to the wine.” Well, it seemed like he didn’t like the joke. He didn’t react at all. “Okay, another one.” I paused. “A man says to his wife, You’ve brought religion into my life. The wife says, Wow really? The man says, yes until I met you, I didn’t believe in Hell.” His lips didn’t even twitch. He just kept riding his horse with an agitated expression on his sexy face. I decided to just shut up.
As we rode through the narrow streets, the aroma of freshly baked bread filled up my nostrils. I inhaled deeply. My stomach churned because I hadn’t had any proper breakfast thanks to the pervert king. The last full meal I’d had had been yesterday, at my engagement party.
“Edward,” I said softly. He turned his head to me, his eyebrows knitted. “I’m hungry and tired of sitting in one position. Can we rest for a while and eat here?”
“Eat here… in this village?” he grumbled.
“Can’t you loosen up for a while? Why can’t we be normal, Edward?” I echoed his frustration.
He stopped Ulysses in the middle of the street. Edward slid off the horse and pulled
me down by my waist. We walked a few meters to a tree to which Edward tied Ulysses.
The peasants around us stopped whatever they were doing, staring at us as if we were aliens. Either I had horns on my head or they couldn’t fathom the fact that Edward Hue was gracing the streets of this poor village. I knew he hid himself from the crowd whenever he visited Emma—covering himself in a black cloak and pay her aunt for Emma’s needs.
Edward ignored everyone’s stare and gestured me forward to the baker—the aroma of fresh bread made my mouth water and stomach gurgle. I quickened my steps towards the baker. The man was in his forties, his large belly making him look like one of those typical bakers in movies and cartoons. This made me smile.
“Hello,” I greeted the man.
“Bonjour, Mademoiselle.” He placed a hand on his heart and bowed. “How can I offer you my service?”
“You’re French.” I smiled at him.
He returned my smile. “Oui, Mademoiselle.”
“You travelled all the way from France to work here?” I asked him.
Edward cleared his throat behind me when I noticed the man stiffening like a new pencil.
“Oui,” he said politely, but I was sure there was fear in his eyes.
“You live with your family here or are they in France?” I was trying to make the poor guy comfortable, but Edward’s presence spoiled everything.
“My wife is English, Mademoiselle. She suggested we sell French bread here to make good money.” He no longer smiled. Instead, he kept stealing glances at the royal blood behind me.
“I smelled your bread from the distance. I’m really hungry… perhaps if you could…”
“Bien sûr, Mademoiselle,” he said before I could finish my request. There was a display with all kinds of French bread on the front shelf—grains, rosemary, barley. They all looked tempting, but I wanted to try the white bread, with extra butter.
Once Upon A [Fallen] Time Page 9
