Once Upon A [Fallen] Time

by Samreen Ahsan

  He turned back around and gripped my forearms.

  “The mirror only ever shows me the beast. There is nothing I see other than the monster. And I’m not interested in looking at it anymore. I have already faced all the demons.” He jerked my arm and ran his fingers through his hair again. “You’re an impossible woman. I am trying to protect you from my father and you are asking me to tell him the truth. Do you have any bloody idea what he will do to you?” He grabbed my forearms again. “Beware of him, dammit. He thinks of you as a witch who’s come here to break the spell. If you claim you’re not a witch then you’re of no use to him and you have no idea what he does to the women who are useless.” Fear possessed me. “The king has fallen for you; he’s obsessed with you. He will do anything to win you.” He shook me. “Do you bloody get it?” He dropped my arms and created some distance between us. “He is hoping for you to give him more years to live,” he shook his head. “For the first time, I saw life in his eyes.” I stared at him, shocked. “You’re making history repeat itself. He is going to be the next King Andrew who fell under the spell of Jasmine because he thinks you are Jasmine.”

  Shit!

  I thought the bastard was flirting with me due to his perverted nature—but he thought I was Jasmine?

  “Why does he think I’m Jasmine if he hasn’t seen her?” I asked.

  He looked away and took a step back. My question rendered him speechless but I also had a feeling that he knew the reason.

  “I don’t know,” he shook his head but I could tell he was lying. Something had been discussed lately in the king’s chamber that he couldn’t disclose. “I have no clue what he has planned for you. He wants me to keep an eye on you, to watch your every move. Tell me what I’m supposed to do?” He sounded furious and helpless.

  On one hand, he was afraid of losing me—that I would leave him—and on the other hand, he was afraid of his father’s decision. That monster was capable of doing anything. In any case, Edward had to embrace the fear of losing me.

  “Why do you want to protect me?”

  “Because,” he closed the distance between us, “You’re my dream. It is the only thing left in me, and I would never let anyone take away my dream.” This was his first step towards me. I felt like hugging him but the way he gripped my arms, it was discouraging. I didn’t say anything, because I had no words. He made me speechless. “I’m already wrecked. Don’t make it harder on me,” he requested.

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked. He pulled away from me and sat on the stairs again, rubbing his temples. He didn’t respond. I sat next to him. “Why does he think I am a witch?” I didn’t use Jasmine’s name again.

  He looked up at me—not in the eyes, but at my hairdo. I understood, but I wanted him to say it. “The flowers…” I nodded. He asked again. “Do you know why they are not affected?”

  “No, I don’t know,” I told him the truth. It was hard to believe that my hairdo was still intact after everything that had happened since yesterday. But then, the hairdresser had put so much effort into setting my hair and pinning the flowers. There were probably multiple cans of sprays and mousse in my hair.

  I honestly didn’t know why the curse wasn’t affecting me. The flowers, the reflection in the mirror, the camera. Did I possess more powers inside the castle? What if King Stefan was right? What if my presence would end Edward’s curse? What if I took him out of his darkness?

  He stood up and stretched his neck. He looked tired and so was I.

  “You must sleep now,” he ordered.

  I joined him and turned around to walk back to the door. Edward followed me quietly. As soon as we entered into the candlelight, he grabbed my arm.

  “You came out like this?” he said, staring at my clothes.

  I looked down and bit my lip. I was sure he was struggling to control his temper.

  “Umm…” I tucked a lock behind my ear. “I couldn’t find anything appropriate to wear.” I looked up—right into his angry eyes.

  “And this is appropriate?” he cursed under his breath.

  I pursed my lips to stifle my smile, but I failed miserably. Somehow, I had started enjoying his bad temper. He looked around to check if anyone was watching us.

  “Thank goodness King Stefan didn’t see you like this.” His grip tightened on my forearm and he dragged me up the stairs, speed-walking me back to his chamber. I wondered when he would learn to be civil?

  “Why? What would have happened?” I doubted he would answer. He was too frustrated to respond. I kept up with his vicious strides. As soon as we had entered his chamber, he let go off my arm and shut the door.

  “You’re impossible!” he grumbled, raking his fingers through his hair. He was obviously trying to control himself. “Go to sleep now. We have to attend mass in the morning,” he barked and disappeared into the dressing room without saying another word.

  The royals in this era had a strange way of visiting washrooms; flush lavatories were not invented yet. Gong farmers worked day and night to perform their duties, twenty-four seven, to keep the royal toilets clean. This was the benefit of belonging to a rich family. At least they didn’t carry pots under their beds to pee. I had read and seen it in the movies and it looked disgusting. First, I would never pee in a wide pot and second, I’d never sleep knowing there is pee under my bed. Later on, when this castle was upgraded, his washroom was upgraded into the proper toilet.

  I sat on the edge of the bed, wondering how to proceed. Would Edward sleep here with me or should I sleep somewhere else? The bed itself was almost like a small private room on its own, with red drapes hung from the canopy.

  Or I could sleep on the cobalt blue velvet chaise at the other corner of the room. My neck was strained due to the nuisance going around the whole day. It had been a long day since I had woken up around sunrise. There wasn’t much to do, especially when you had so many people working under you. I’d be bored if I lived here for long. I’d have to find a hobby or pastime to kill the day. I couldn’t tag along with Edward everywhere.

  I always wondered how people had come up with inventions in earlier times? Now I could see why! There wasn’t much distraction. If they spent years on painting a wall or a chapel’s ceiling, they had no distractions. No social media posts, no blog writing, no hassle of lining up outside the big store for Thanksgiving sales, no last-minute Christmas shopping, no running late in morning traffic. Their lives looked so simple—but I knew they had other pitfalls. They could easily die from a minor disease if it wasn’t cured on time. My thoughts travelled to Emma who had a breathing problem. I was no doctor, but I was sure she had asthma just like my grandmother.

  Although it had only been twenty-four hours, I still felt like I had been here for many days. Did I miss my parents—yes, I did, but I was hopeful that Haakon would have given them my letter. Did I miss Steve—yes, I did. He was the only reason I was here. I wouldn’t have ever met Edward if it weren’t for Steve’s game. I wondered what he was doing right now. It wasn’t even midnight.

  I looked at myself in the mirror and decided to unclip my hair. The flowers still looked good and that was what had struck King Stefan. I pulled out the pins, one by one, along with the still-intact lilacs, and placed them on the bed. I was busy singing to kill the silence around me, unpinning my hair gently, when I noticed Edward’s presence on the other side of the bed. He’d come in so quietly. He never made any noise—sometimes I wondered if he was truly a ghost. Even earlier, when he had sat beside me on the stairs outside, he hadn’t made any noise. Could someone walk in so quietly?

  I wasn’t a fairy, but the way he was looking at me—mesmerized, in awe—it was like I was putting him under some spell. Things that were normal to other people fascinated him. Of course, he must have craved holding flowers, and now here I was, pulling lilacs from my hair in his room. It had to be beyond his imagination. His eyes spoke volumes. He didn’t have to say how fascinated he was. I knew the flowers reminded him of Veronica. His gaze
dropped on the flowers I had placed on the bed. Although he sat on the opposite side of the bed, I couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror. The angle wasn’t right. I picked up one lilac, placed it on my palm, and extended my hand towards him.

  “Do you want to touch it, Edward?” I asked softly. His breathing hiked. He looked at my palm and then at me, his face turning white. “It won’t bite you,” I smiled. “I know you want to touch it. Veronica always—”

  “Good night,” he stood up abruptly. I closed my palm and shut my eyes at the same time. Why did I keep forgetting that Veronica’s name always made him snap? He just couldn’t hear anything related to her. He needed closure, and for that to happen, he had to face his demons. I opened my eyes and watched him picking up the pillow and walking to the chaise where he lay down without another word. So, the Prince Arse of Stubbornness would still show me his attitude. Fine. I blew a breath, ignoring his temper, and continued working on my hair. My shoulders were cramped from unpinning my hair for so long. I wished I could ask for a massage right now.

  In order to kill the silence in the room, I started singing again—continued my song: I wish I knew how by Lighthouse Family.

  I glanced at Edward who was staring up at the ceiling. He didn’t bother looking at me, but I knew he was listening to me intently. Steve had once told me that I had a good singing voice. He had even wanted me to sing in his game and movie. I felt bad for Steve; I was his only key to unearth the secrets of Hue Castle. But when I’d look at Edward, everyone else’s dream drowned in the face of my desires. Not my desire in fact—I was here because Edward had wanted me. Prince Arse of Stubbornness would never stop showing me attitude—I knew that for sure, but I would make him bend—slowly and gradually.

  First, I’d melt him from the inside, and then, I’d break his outer shell. A mischievous smile played on my lips as I watched Edward laying on the chaise. Whatever time, whatever clothes, and whatever mood—he looked sexy as hell in everything he did. Every time I had any anger or grudge against him—it withered as soon as I’d look into his eyes. He was a broken soul, which I vowed to fix. This soul needed mending and the outer shell needed to break. Unfortunately, it had been the other way around. I had to fix his soul first. He had called me his ‘dream’ today. I would show him what happens when a dream comes true.

  “What’s the world’s greatest lie?

  It’s this: that at a certain point in our lives,

  we lose control of what’s happening to us,

  and our lives become controlled by fate.”

  ― Paulo Coelho

  CHAPTER 13

  STEVE

  JUNE 13th 2015

  A drink and smoke had always been a heady combination. After I had returned from the old bookstore, defeated, I had gone straight to the bar in the hotel I was staying. Thankfully, I could both smoke and drink inside the club. I had hidden myself in a corner booth with Tyler, twenty-one-year-old Irish whiskey, and a cigarette. I had almost consumed a packet already.

  “Steve?” Tyler called out my name, trying to grab my attention over the high-pitched music. I was facing the woman dancing on the stage with her Moroccan moves. I wasn’t even looking at her properly, but anyone else would probably say that I had been staring at her for quite a long time. She must have noticed too, because she had come to our table several times to get some extra money. I looked around the bar—people were throwing money at her. She entertained men at every table, grinding her body for some extra Moroccan Dirhams.

  “Steve?” Tyler called my name again. I took another drag, dabbed the cigarette on the ashtray, and looked at him. “You should sleep now.” His voice showed concern. I leaned against the side wall of the booth, my legs up on the seat, elbow resting on the table while I faced the stage. I ran my fingers through my hair and closed my eyes, my head resting against the wall. Tyler had been patient with me all this time. He was a true friend.

  “If you want to go, go to your room. Why are you waiting for me?” I said with still closed eyes.

  “I can’t leave you here,” he shouted over the noise of the bar. “Besides, your mom is very concerned about you.”

  I opened my eyes, looked at him, and snorted. “Huh! So, you’re my mom’s secret agent now.” I lit another cigarette. “Tell her that her only son has been screwed badly.” Another drag—man… it felt good to smoke after a long time!

  “How long do you plan to stay here?”

  “Here as in this club?” I asked.

  “No, here as in this city. You know what Bakr has told you. You should—”

  “I am not going to give up my dream just because some other dead bastard desired my future wife.” My eyes burned—they were probably bloodshot from the smoke and my tiredness. My body desperately needed sleep. It had been more than twenty-four hours, and sitting in this club at one in the morning wasn’t helping. “I am not going to retreat and surrender my dream for his dream,” I said.

  “Then what do you plan to do?”

  “I will make Myra change her mind,” I took a sip from my drink. “She is engaged to me.” I showed him my hand. “You see this, my friend, this is the ring of a promise, and I will not let her break that promise she made to me in front of one thousand people.”

  “Steve, you are only being obsessive.”

  “Obsessive my ass! She is mine, goddammit, and I will not leave her.” I took another sip. “You know, Tyler, she is the only girl I have ever fallen in love with. People have always used me for their own benefit. And she…” I ran a hand over my face, “how can she do this to me?”

  “Why don’t you think of it this way. Maybe she is just like the others and used you for her own benefit?” Tyler suggested. “Hate her and move on!”

  “Because I know she didn’t. I was the one who used her first for my benefit. I dreamt with her—thought we would rewrite history together and become history too. But she just fucked everything up.” I slammed my palms on the table, but no one even noticed my outburst. The other patrons were all too drunk to listen to my pain.

  “Is this your guilt striking back?” Tyler asked, catching me off-guard. “You were so obsessed with the game and Hue Castle’s history that you brought Myra to the mirror yourself to see what will happen next.” I stared at him. “And now you think you’d protect her from Edward and your guilt would end or is this just an obsession you’re feeding?”

  “I love her, dammit!” I shouted again. “She was going to be my wife.”

  Tyler sank back in his seat. “Before anything, you need to talk to Tom Fitzgerald and get over with this mess. You were supposed to be meeting with him today, Steve. We have his advance money. Don’t give him a reason to press charges against us.” He was right. I would have to call off the movie and give him back the money—and my dream. I would have to go back to London, meet him to cancel the deal, and make a press release that the production of the movie Once Upon A [Stolen] Time had been postponed for some technical reasons.

  “What are you reading?” I asked Tyler who was staring at his phone intently.

  He shoved his phone towards me. “Entertainment Weekly has posted your engagement pictures on their Instagram and other social media platforms.”

  Fuck!

  The media was making it even more difficult for me. How would I hide the truth if they kept calling my social queen mother, Caroline Bernard, for interviews? And I had never even considered what Myra’s parents would tell her workplace. She had taken the weekend off but would be expected to return on Monday. And Friday had already turned into Saturday. We had to come up with a believable excuse.

  I took Tyler’s phone and glanced at our pictures posted on the Internet. Myra looked stunning in her lilac gown, mesmerizing from every angle, but in all the close-ups, her eyes were searching for something and somewhere. No one could read it from her heavenly beauty. I wished I hadn’t noticed it either but I fucked my fate myself and took her to the haunted castle to talk to Edward, one last time. I didn’t know
it was not the last time for Edward, but for me.

  I swiped the screen and ended up on an article. The title read, ‘Mysterious engagement.’

  “What are you looking at?” Tyler asked.

  “There is an article in London Free Press,” I glanced at Tyler.

  “Read it,” he replied.

  My hands were shaking because I had a feeling that I was about to read something I wouldn’t like. There was a picture of Myra and I, when I had put a ring on her finger. I started reading the article out loud.

  “As we all know, the scion of Bernard Empire, and multi-millionaire entrepreneur in the gaming industry, Steve Bernard, was engaged recently to the daughter of the owners of Paula’s Café. Their families have been friends for many years but no one ever thought that, among all of the potential females, Myra Farrow would be the chosen one. But they look like a fairytale couple, and I assure you, it was a magical party.” I shot another glance at Tyler before I continued with the article. “During the function, we noticed Steve Bernard taking Myra Farrow’s hand, leading her out of the crowd. One of our journalists was curious, so he followed the couple. We have since found out that Mr Bernard drove Miss Farrow all the way to Hue Castle—that’s right—the same haunted castle Steve Bernard used for his upcoming game.” I slammed the phone on the table, ran a hand over my face, gulped the remaining whiskey, and ordered another round. I wanted to throw the phone away but this wouldn’t curb my anger.

  Tyler picked up his phone and read:

  “Our journalist found out that the couple disappeared behind the castle’s gate. Our journalist waited till late evening. Later on, Steve Bernard’s friend Tyler Green entered the castle in his car. The journalist waited till midnight and was astounded to discover that when Mr Green drove his car back through the gate, there was only one person in the car with him—Steve Bernard.” Tyler looked at me with horror. I took a deep breath. The news had leaked. “Later in the morning, our journalist waited outside Miss Farrow’s house but no sign of her appeared. When asked, her parents informed the journalist that she had visited her sick aunt. We hope her aunt has a speedy recovery, so we can see the couple together again soon.”