“Yes?” he yelled in frustration but didn’t break his stare.
“The children are here, Your Grace,” a woman’s voice came from the other side of the door. “The king requests the presence of Lady Farrow in the Great Hall.” Interestingly I had never seen any servants other than those serving us food. Where do these people go and come from? I wondered if there was a rule in this castle that the servants weren’t supposed to appear unless they were being needed.
“Very well,” he shouted again. His gaze dropped to my lips… on the bruise he had given me. He came closer and placed a gentle kiss on the bruise—sucking away all the pain he had given me earlier, and pouring his soul into me.
“Bread has never tasted so heavenly,” his eyes were smiling, but it didn’t reach his lips. I had only ever seen him laughing and smiling when he held Emma in his arms. The child was the only person capable of giving him a belly laugh, and after Veronica, he had not laughed or even smiled. He had even tried to conceal his smile when I had watched him through the mirror on his birthday.
“Don’t do this to me, Myra.” My name on his lips sounded like a verse from the Bible. I wanted to hear my name from his mouth again and again, like a sacred chanting. I hadn’t known my name was tattooed on my back till I was ten. I had studied in a very conservative Catholic school where girls were not allowed to change clothes in front of each other, even during gym time. But once I had started my first swimming lesson at the age of ten after I’d been scared of water all my life, a friend of mine had told me about my name being tattooed on my back. At home, I’d tried to ask my mother about it, but she lied to me saying that where I had been born, people used to steal babies, so they had me tattooed for identification. I had been completely sold on that idea. I had never asked about the tattoo again.
I stared back at him, hoping he could read my eyes. He was the first man to see me like this. I had not even undressed in front of a woman.
“Please, don’t do this,” he whispered again.
I knitted my eyebrows in concern. It was not a command… it was a simple plea.
“Don’t cripple me like this,” his words held pain. He wanted to show me his love that had been caged and entrapped in his haunted tomb, but he still was afraid to show me his world. I was making him weak… defenceless… unshielded. I wanted to free him, not shackle him.
“I could be your shield, Edward. If only you could trust me.” His broke his stare and looked somewhere on the wall behind me.
He didn’t answer for a while. He moved and unpinned my arms. He was still not ready to trust me. He had spent his life mastering to stay strong and not to trust anyone. It was not easy to break him. Why should I even expect him to fall apart when he hadn’t even shed a single tear on his sister’s death? Veronica had been his other half—he knew he had lost his soul with her but still, he didn’t break. How could I expect he’d take off a brick from his tomb and let me in? He had been inside his fortress, tamed himself to live in darkness… why would he even like the light I was willing to offer him?
“Get ready.” He stood up from the bed and walked to sit on the chaise. “The children are waiting for you.” I took a moment to gather myself and left the bed. I checked my face in the mirror. Not only was there the bruise on my lip, I also had a mark on the right side of my neck—his very first mark of claiming me. I hadn’t even felt him kissing me too hard. Or had I been too consumed by lust that I hadn’t felt it? He noticed my mark in the reflection. How could I hide it? I knew King Stefan was clever enough to know what happened in this room. And there was no concealer for me to hide it with. I watched Edward walk into the dressing room and bring a green scarf matching my dress when he returned. He didn’t hand it over. Instead, he wrapped it around my neck, making sure the scarf hid every inch of my neckline. The dress was indeed exquisite—bottle green velvet, fitted from the waist, golden embroidery on the sleeves and waistline, with ruffled crochet work adorning the sleeves, to accentuate it.
He was not looking me in the eye. Was he avoiding eye contact because he had just shown me his weakness; that I made him weak? I could only be his strength if he let me enter his tomb. I should give him a few more days. This was only the beginning of our never-ending love story—our first kiss. I would not do anything stupid to let this magic slip away from us. I’d wear his mark with pride, like a Victoria Cross. I’d become his strength, despite his refusal.
I had been blinded by Edward’s love so much that I had forgotten my past life. It felt like I had always lived in this castle, always belonged to Edward. I had forgotten about my fiancé, hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell Edward about him yet. I had even forgotten my parents who had loved me all my life, and I knew they still missed me. It was as if I had been reincarnated for Edward—and the twenty-first century was my previous life before rebirth. I was no more a naïve girl whose only option was to marry Steve. I was no longer a child who fancied Disney stories. I was a woman now: claimed, protected, and loved by the future king of England.
He didn’t have to say that he loved me. I felt it in his precious kiss.
He didn’t have to show me his weakness, because I had already seen his scars.
He didn’t have to warn me of his beast, because I had known him since he had started dreaming at the age of seven.
I was the only woman who had driven his darkest fantasies all his life.
I was the only woman he had ever wanted to claim and love.
I was the only woman he had ever wanted to torment and consume.
This feeling made me powerful—made me realize I had more power than I had imagined earlier. I had the power to turn his world upside down.
I had the power to bring light into his pitch-dark life.
But did I have the power to break his curse?
The ultimate curse was that he couldn’t ever fall in love. He had already done that, before I had come into his life. He had already been in love with me before he’d even met me. But I didn’t know what he would face if he’d accept me in his life. He could never marry me, because he didn’t want to risk losing me. And this curse wouldn’t let him express his emotions. He was bound, chained, and gagged by Jasmine’s curse.
I wanted to dig out the secrets of this castle, but the main secret lay somewhere in the library. I was hopeful that the library was more than just a collection of books and a spring to entice. There was something deeper and I was keen to find out.
The second worst curse and Edward’s ultimate wish was to see himself in the mirror. If I put myself in his shoes, yes, I’d want to see myself in the mirror. How could you spend your whole life knowing your reflection is a beast? He should know how attractive and irresistibly sexy he was—an adult, real-life version of a comic superhero.
I looked at the flowers I had taken out of my hair last night. They still lay by the bedside and had not withered. I also needed to check whether the flowers I had planted on Veronica’s grave were still alive or not. Maybe, after teaching the children, I would visit the barren garden to check.
When we reached the Great Hall, I was surprised to see a crowd. It seemed like all the villagers had obeyed the king’s command. There must be more than one hundred children between four and eleven years old. I knew that children were considered adults as soon as they turned twelve in the Middle Ages.
The children’s faces were blank, wrought with poverty—no hope sparkling in their eyes, as if they were headed straight into concentration camps. I scanned the crowd and noticed Emma and her cousins squished between other children. She must have recognized me from yesterday as I saw the element of surprise on her face.
“Good morning, lovely children,” I raised my voice above the noise level, but not a single child showed any reaction. This would be a tough journey. Why did I even volunteer to teach them? There were more than one hundred of them and they all clearly dreaded King Stefan. I could feel the thick air of tension in the hall, and I was sure it had to with King Stefan’s presence, who
sat regally poised on his red velvet cushioned seat.
I wouldn’t dare ask King Stefan to leave. He was making the children anxious though. I walked to the children and knelt down in front of a six-year-old boy.
“What’s your name?” I asked softly.
He looked at Edward behind me, the fear evident in his eyes. I turned around to look at Edward who wouldn’t meet my gaze. He walked away from the children and sat down, next to his father—watching us.
“You don’t have to fear anyone. I’m your friend,” I smiled at the boy and offered him my hand. “My name is Lady Farrow.” A small smile crept up his pink lips.
He gave me his hand. “I’m Thomas and this is my sister, Claire,” he pointed to the four-year-old girl standing next to him. They were all so innocent and yet too afraid to take any step against King Stefan. Children should never be treated this way. They should be loud and vivacious, and I swore to make these children brave.
I stood up, squared my shoulders, and addressed the children: “We have many many days to learn ahead. How about we first become friends so you could tell me stories.”
A ten-year-old girl giggled. “No. You will tell us stories.” The other children giggled with her.
“Oops! I forgot who’s the teacher here. Silly me!”
“You’re funny,” a boy around five said from the middle of the crowd. I ignored King Stefan’s watchful eye but glanced at Edward who was observing the scene with an awed expression on his face.
“And I have even more funny stories to share,” I smiled. “But we need to be friends before sharing our stories.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“But mother said we are not allowed to be friends with the people in the castle,” the most adorable boy I had seen in my life said. He had red hair and some freckles around his nose, which made him look cuter. I wanted to hug him and pinch his chubby cheeks.
I knelt down in front of him. “Guess what! I’m not from the castle,” I winked at the boy. “So, you can be friends with me and we can play together every day.”
“Do you know how to play?” a curious girl around nine asked.
I looked at her. “I may look big, but I do know how to play. In fact, I can teach you many games.”
The children looked at me—smiles shining on their innocent faces.
“So, who is going to tell me what you don’t like to eat?” I asked loudly. The children looked at each other for answers. “I don’t like milk,” I started, pulling a funny face.
Some children laughed at my grimace. I glanced at Edward who blinked in astonishment.
A man came to whisper something in King Stefan’s ear. As I looked at him, he smiled at me and walked out of the Great Hall with his servant. Even though King Stefan was gone, there was still tension in the room because of Edward’s presence. Apparently, many people had witnessed the sad demise of Veronica and the news of her death had spread like a plague.
“I don’t like the bean soup mother feeds me,” one boy around eight said. Things were getting better after the king had left. My experience of part-time babysitter was working. I had been babysitting kids since the age of fourteen, and in our town, I had taken the kids from my street for trick o’ treating every Halloween.
“Anyone else?” I looked around the children.
“I don’t like pottage,” one girl made a sour face.
Some other children kept sharing their dislikes. It seemed like the children had no one to talk about their likes or dislikes. They were accustomed to lead a life their parents had chosen for them, and the parents were attuned with the life King Stefan had chosen. It was a vicious cycle the Hue men had been running for two hundred years. The fear was in the poor children’s blood, inherited from one generation to another.
The children still felt Edward’s presence in the room. I had to find a way to allow them to breathe. They would never learn anything if their minds were monitored by a dictator. And I had to take out the fear they had from Edward. They should know Edward was not a monster.
“Have you heard of a game: dumb charade?”
The children looked at me quizzically.
“Someone here would act out something and you’d guess it by looking at their act. Let’s see who’d win,” a mischievous smile broke on my lips. “We’ll start with Prince Edward.” A murmur went through the crowd of children.
“See, how he is participating in the game by giving us a facial expression?” I pointed at Edward. His gaze on me went darker. I could take the risk with him, but I could never take the risk with King Stefan. I was so grateful he had already left. “Can anyone tell me what his facial expression is?”
The children craned their heads to see Edward. He sat upright and watched me, his expression sour.
“Is he surprised?” one girl asked.
“No, he looks worried,” a boy remarked. I was happy the children were speaking up.
Edward took a deep breath. “He is breathing,” one boy said. The others giggled with him.
Edward knitted his eyebrows and looked at me. He certainly didn’t look pleased that I had picked him as bait to get closer to the children.
“He is grumpy now,” one girl commented. More children burst into laughter.
“Is he angry?” another girl dared to ask. I was just listening to the children, but my eyes were locked with Edward’s. His gaze was warning me to shut up, but it was already too late for me to silence the children.
“He is a killer,” I heard a girl’s voice. My head shot up to find the source of those words. I knew it had been Emma’s voice, but she moved and hid behind her cousins. All the children turned their heads to where the voice had come from. When I turned to Edward, he looked defeated, torn and broken.
Shit! I shouldn’t have started this game. I hadn’t planned for it to end in such a grave way. It was so quiet in the hall, you could have heard a pin drop. Only Emma would have the audacity to speak out against Edward openly—because Edward had given her this right.
I walked towards Emma, and the children stepped aside to give me space to reach her. She took a couple of steps back, obviously fearing I might hurt her. I could see on her face how much she had hated to live in this castle. She was shivering as I knelt down in front of her.
I held her hands in mine and looked her in the eye.
“You don’t have to be afraid of anyone,” I touched her cheek. “I’ll be there to defend you. You can say and ask whatever your heart desires,” I assured her.
She threw a hostile glance at Edward and then looked back at me. “I called him a killer. You wouldn’t let him hurt me?” she asked, clearly not expecting this.
“No,” I caressed her hair, smiling at her. “But he would never ever hurt you, Emma,” I held her hand again and squished it for assurance. “I promise you.”
I stood up and scanned all the children who were staring at me.
“If you think Prince Edward would hurt you—that is never going to happen,” I reassured all the children. They could dread King Stefan, but they should never fear Edward.
“But he killed my mother,” Emma whispered again—accusing him the same way she had yesterday.
I looked at Edward who didn’t give me any expression—not even pain. He had become insensitive with her accusations. He stood up silently from his seat, about to leave the Great Hall.
“You made him angry, Emma,” Emma’s cousin commented. Fear stole the colour of her skin. “He’ll kill you as he did to your mother.” Edward stopped in his tracks and stared at the child in shock. Emma’s breathing hiked when she saw Edward approaching the children.
All the children took their steps back in fear. I didn’t know what Edward was up to, but right now, it was more important to focus on Emma who was breaking into an asthma attack. I was right about her wheezing earlier. My grandmother had the same problem but she never opted for steroids. My parents had always looked for home remedies for her. Emma’s breathing got shallower, her eyes turning upwards. I panick
ed; I wasn’t prepared for seeing a child in such a condition. I couldn’t expect an inhaler in this era. Dang it! What should I do now?
“Stop, Edward,” I shouted at him in frenzy and he stopped at the spot. “Don’t come closer. She is having an asthma attack. Your presence can make it worse.” I knelt down on my knees again and held Emma in my lap. The poor child was trying to catch her breath, but her lungs were not cooperating. “Ginger,” I shouted at Edward. “Get me ginger tea with honey. And some mustard oil. Fast!”
Edward stepped backwards, turned around, and took off running to the kitchen.
“Emma… baby… breathe…” I pulled her to sit upright but it looked like she was about to pass out, which I knew was dangerous in this situation. “Breathe, Emma… you’re going to be alright, sweetheart.” I wished Veronica had been there to hold her. This child deserved parents to look after her, and she had no one. An aunt—who had two fatherless children to look after—it was too much to ask from her. Besides, how would she take care of Emma in this condition? I was not her mother, but my love and concern for Emma was strong enough as if I would have cared for my own child.
I will not leave you alone, baby, I promised in my heart. I didn’t care if Edward didn’t keep the promise he’d given his sister and couldn’t be a good father, and whether Edward accepted it or not—I would keep this child with me in this castle. I’d deal with King Stefan later. She needed attention and care—otherwise she could die. I knew ginger tea with honey would calm her down and dilate her muscles, which would help her breathe again, and massaging mustard oil on her back and chest would clear her respiratory tract.
Within a few minutes, after I had kept asking Emma to breathe normally, Edward returned with warm ginger tea and mustard oil in a wooden bowl. Before Emma could acknowledge his presence, he handed me the goblet of tea and the bowl of oil, and disappeared behind the long curtains. I had no doubt that he was as panicked as I was, and I wanted to soothe him too, but right now, Emma had to be my priority. I knew he was there, still watching and making sure if Emma went back to normal.
Once Upon A [Fallen] Time Page 21
