Once Upon A [Fallen] Time

by Samreen Ahsan

  “These books are passed on from generation to generation, but none of these books make any sense.” He pointed towards eight gold books. I started counting how many Hue men there had been. If Edward’s book was with Haakon, that left us with seven Hue men. But this library still had eight books. There were no names written on the books, so one could not identify which book stored King Stefan’s life. He tucked one book under his arm and started walking.

  I felt like walking through the history of books. The experience was magical. I had once read that the library of Alexandria was the largest library of all in Ancient times, and I always used to wonder how big a library could be. I had seen all major libraries around the globe—British Library in London, Trinity College Library, Library of Congress in D.C., New York Public Library, and many ancient ones, but I had never seen anything like this one. This place had unique and original books—items that would be priceless in the twenty-first century. I was sure the data in it could compete with the Vatican Archive. The rest of England was living in the Dark Ages and this bloody bastard had hidden this national treasure from his people.

  I was so lost in the library that I didn’t realize we had stopped close to the spring. I had been so busy soaking it all up that I hadn’t even heard the sound of the spring. But once realization struck, my heart stuck in my throat. Shit! He did plan to kill me.

  The spring was surrounded by large, white stones; apparently, they were the only stones that had not darkened in this place. Indeed, this spring was still untouched—and hadn’t rotted with the curse.

  “What is this?” I asked, still pretending I didn’t know anything.

  “You can see what it is, don’t you?” he asked. If Satan had a face, it must be him.

  “I didn’t imagine a spring in the library,” I replied. “Do you use it for bathing?”

  He walked past the spring and sat on the large stone.

  “Sit,” he gestured towards the other stone—the book still in his arm. “This is a private chamber of kings and queens living in the castle. Since Edward will live in this chamber after marrying Elizabeth, I thought you might not get a chance to visit it.”

  Was he deliberately trying to make me jealous? Why was he bringing up the topic of Edward’s marriage again and again? Was he trying to see if I was actually jealous? I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  “That’s very kind of you, Your Majesty,” I smiled.

  “So, I was wondering,” he placed the book in his lap, “If you could help me read it.” He shifted his position, adjusting himself closer to me. He was taking advantage of Edward’s absence, because he and I both knew that Edward would have never approved of King Stefan sitting so close to me. No matter if I hated Edward for leaving me at the king’s mercy, I still wanted him to come here and rescue me.

  King Stefan opened the book and—as expected—there was nothing to read. I didn’t want to touch it, because I knew the life of any of the Hue men would open up in front of my eyes, and it would be impossible for me to fake it in front of King Stefan. I was afraid if King Stefan was able to hear my heart racing. I didn’t want to show him how scared I was.

  “There is nothing written in it,” I commented.

  “Exactly. Any idea how we can read it?” he asked, reading my face. I felt as if I was sitting under a microscope where the scientist would drop every chemical to look at the reaction of the specimen. This was not heading in a good direction.

  I was curious whose book it was, but I was too afraid to place my palm on it.

  “Sometimes the texts that are not visible to the naked eye are readable under the heat,” I said. He drew his eyebrows together in confusion. I knew how to read this book, but I had to distract him. “I have read that some texts are visible if you put them over a flame.” He was listening to me intently. “In the Roman era, when the higher authorities wanted to deliver something—a message from one place to another, without being forged, they used to keep it as a secret and write it with an ink that is only visible under heat.”

  “Wouldn’t the heat burn the message?”

  “No,” I looked around everywhere. “Keeping it under a low flame wouldn’t burn. It might show something.” I flipped the pages gently, without placing my palm on the book. “I’m not sure about this one… it may or may not show anything. But there is no harm in finding out.” I shrugged my shoulders.

  He looked at me for a few heartbeats and then stood up to let me breathe. “Let me bring the lantern.”

  “Perhaps if you could bring a candle. The candle has a lower flame than a lantern.” I looked up at him.

  “Okay, let me check. I may have to get it from my chamber,” he said, eyeing me with suspicion.

  “I will wait here then,” I smiled nervously.

  He took a deep breath. “All right, I’ll be back shortly. Don’t move from here,” he warned and walked away. My gaze followed him all the way until he disappeared into another corridor. I hastily flipped the book back to the first page. This was my chance to read another Hue man’s life. I placed my hand on the empty paper—and just as I had expected—it started glowing.

  Soon I realized it was none other than King Stefan. Did he know it was his book? Had he picked it deliberately and thought I might have some magic to read it? Did he know Edward’s book had been missing and his royal sorcerer had been hiding it all these years?

  I turned the pages quickly, since I had no interest in his childhood. I wanted to know how Edward’s mother had died. She had been a beautiful woman—an exact replica of Veronica. I let the story unfold in front of my eyes. I saw how after Edward’s mother gave birth to two children, King Stefan was happy holding Edward in his arms, but he never embraced Veronica. Afraid of King Stefan’s wrath, the mother started keeping her daughter in a different chamber, which later on became Veronica’s chamber. Edward and Veronica were not even one month old when the mother fell sick—a very high fever hit her. No doctor, no physician, nothing could cure her. She was in pain and one day, King Stefan took her to this spring. He had no other choice than to offer her this magical water and promise her it would heal her. I could see he really loved his wife. He wanted to save her, but he knew his curse was taking his wife’s life. He wanted to ease her pain. The next day, she was indeed healed from the fever, but then thirst hit her and killed her. He buried his wife somewhere in this library. I had a feeling that this had been going on for past centuries. I had not seen any of the kings’ or their wives’ graves, and now, by looking at his book, I got the feeling that there had to be a crypt under this library that had been keeping their bones for so many centuries. The thought of the souls of these deceased women being trapped in this library made me shudder.

  Flipping through the book’s pages, I realized that I had not only lived in Edward’s dream, but in King Stefan’s dream too. He had dreamt of the same woman, and it was the legacy that had been passed from father to son for two centuries. Apparently, I had been haunting not only Edward but his forefathers as well. No wonder King Stefan had been treating me differently from the other women. No wonder he thought I had come for his redemption, out of his dreams. Did Edward know King Stefan had been dreaming the same as he did? Did Edward know King Stefan desired me just as much as Edward always had? No, he should never know. It would ruin all his fantasies if he found out that I had been the part of his forefathers’ dreams too—that they had all shared the same dream.

  I flipped the pages quickly, afraid King Stefan might appear any moment and turn to the last page. I knew how he treated others and his children. I wanted to know how he’d die. Since their fates were already written, except for Edward’s, the details of their deaths were also stored in these books. Haakon had told me that Edward’s book was incomplete because he ran away and didn’t stay in this castle. All other Hue men took their last breaths in this cursed place. If I survived tonight, I’d talk to Haakon about everything.

  I turned to the second to last page, which was a turning point of my
life. King Stefan didn’t die because of the curse—because his life span was set to sixty. He died before his age. He died because he was killed.

  And he was killed by his own son, Edward.

  I took a deep breath to let the story sink in. Edward killed him out of vengeance. I flipped to the last page, only to find out that King Stefan had punished and killed a woman under the black tree on the grounds, and when Edward found out she was dead, he stabbed his own father with his sword—right into this heart. Edward walked back to the woman, who was tied to the pillory, and her naked body had turned white. I could see the woman’s back. The pillory was trapped in an iron cage holding numerous ravens. The ravens looked deadly but they had not touched the woman. She still looked lifeless. There were tears in Edward’s eyes. He unhooked the woman from the pillory, pulled her face out of the hole, and clutched her close to his chest. He was crying, screaming, begging her to open her eyes. Who was the woman?

  As soon as Edward laid her down on his lap, my heart stopped beating.

  The woman was me.

  Shit!

  My face must have turned white in horror, and I was so lost in my shock that I didn’t realize King Stefan was standing over my head.

  “Lady Farrow, is everything all right?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.

  I looked at him without blinking. I knew he couldn’t figure out if I had read the book or not because my friends hadn’t known it either. I just stared at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, a chill racing through my nerves.

  This man would be my killer.

  I should scream, run, and shout—but it was pointless. There was no way my voice could reach Edward. I was trapped in this library. If I died here, Edward would never even know where I had gone. My story would end here, and King Stefan would throw my body in the crypt under this ground where he had once buried his sick wife.

  But according to this book, this was not the way I would die. I wouldn’t die in this library, drowning in water or thirst striking me. He’d keep me in the cage with ravens that wouldn’t even touch me. Perhaps, it must have been due to cold and my nakedness that had made my heart stopped beating in the book. Did it mean Edward and I could never be together?

  He sat beside me and patted my back gently. I felt spiders crawling all over me. “Lady Farrow, you don’t look well,” he touched my forehead. “Are you cold?”

  I cleared my throat, but it was dry and scratchy. I couldn’t say a word. My body started shivering and I wanted to run, scream, and cry.

  I had witnessed not only King Stefan’s demise but mine too. Would I ever get a chance to tell Edward?

  “You’re shivering, my dear,” he said. “Why don’t you put your feet in this warm spring? That will make you feel better.”

  Shit! He was creating ways to kill me. He knew this water was cursed.

  I gathered all the strength I could, placed the book on the stones, and stood up.

  “I should leave, Your Majesty.” I took some steps away from him. “It’s very late. Edward must be looking for me.”

  “Edward is busy with his betrothed. Why would he look for his prisoner?” He stood up as well—a hidden warning in his eyes.

  “He asked me not to go anywhere without his permission.” I took a few more steps back.

  King Stefan closed the gap between us.

  “He is my son. He knows what he is doing.” He held my face in his hands. I was so scared at his touch that I even stopped reacting. Fear stole all my senses of defying, screaming, and retaliating. What would he do to me? Didn’t he know that Edward would kill him if he harmed me? I would die anyhow, but he’d die with me too. “Why are you so afraid of me, my dear?” His eyes were boring into my soul. I could see he was drinking me in with his eyes. “Have I harmed you in these two days?” I swallowed and realized I had no strength to respond. “Tell me, have I hurt you?” he pressed again. I shook my head lightly. He snorted. “Then why are you afraid of me? Has Edward said anything to you?”

  “No.” I cleared my throat again, trying my best to voice my words. “He hasn’t.”

  “If you were in my authority, I would have treated you like a queen.” His voice held a certain desperation. I took another step back, but he followed my step by moving forward, still holding my face in his hands. I had no strength to jerk his hands from my face. I felt like leeches were sucking blood from my cheeks. “Edward treats you like a prisoner. But you’re afraid of me and not him?” Lust and hatred were both at war on his face. I was dead scared, my blood freezing with fear inside me.

  “No, Your Majesty,” I stepped back and my back rested against the bookshelf. I could see the spring behind King Stefan, as he closed in on me with his disgusting presence.

  He released my face and placed his arm above my head, leaning against the bookshelf. His other hand touched my face as he flicked his finger over my cheek. I was paralyzed, unable to avoid his touch. Did he plan to molest me?

  “You’re very beautiful, Lady Farrow… a man’s dream!” His eyes were drinking in every inch of my face.

  I hated being left by Edward.

  I hated being trapped in the fifteenth century.

  I hated betraying Steve.

  I hated leaving my parents.

  I hated being a woman.

  I hated being so defenceless.

  I hated everything.

  “But I’m more awed by your compassion than your beauty.” I blinked at him. “I heard how efficiently you healed the child—like having a mother’s instinct.”

  “I’d have helped anyone in that situation,” I responded, my heart thudding loudly.

  “Yes, I know,” he said with another one of his satanic grins. “You’d heal any sick person because you have a kind heart, and I believe you want to keep the child because you don’t want her to suffer anymore?”

  “Yes,” I replied. Haven’t we talked about it already?

  He stepped back and paced slowly from right to left, allowing me to catch my breath again and to see if there was any other door to escape through beside the entrance to the chamber.

  “Let me tell you a little family secret, my dear,” he started, still walking slowly. My gaze followed him. “The child, as I told you, is a bastard, but the problem is, Edward still loves her.” That I already knew. “I thought when he’d give the child to her blood family, he’d forget her.” He looked at me. “But my foolish son kept visiting the child.” Oh my God! He was smarter than I had thought. He had been stalking Edward all along and he already knew everything. “So, there is no point in keeping that child with her aunt. It’s better if she lives here.” But how would that solve King Stefan’s concern? “This way I’d know how my son is coping emotionally.” Such a bastard! He wanted to test Edward’s limits one more time, kill his soul one more time. “Let me be very straight. The child has a disease, which cannot be cured. She’ll die anyhow.” Who the hell was he? God? He’d decide who’d die? “I know you love the child and want her to stay healthy and I’m sure you’ll do your best to give her maximum life. Right?”

  I nodded.

  “I knew it,” he gave me his devilish grin again. “But I want my son to be free from all the emotions in order to be a strong king. And I also know that no matter how Edward treats you, somehow, you still want to stay with him.” Shit! Did he know I was in love with him? “I have a feeling that you have already fallen in love with my son, haven’t you, Lady Farrow?”

  I stared at him—unable to think straight or say anything.

  “You must not hope for anything. You can bed with him, but he will marry Elizabeth anyways,” he said, his voice stern and authoritative.

  I still stared at him. Did he think I was a whore?

  “So, I have a proposition for you,” he continued, “this conversation and our meeting shall remain a secret.” He counted on his fingers one by one. “You will not tell Edward about your visit to the library.” He counted on the second finger. “I will allow you to keep the child, but you
will tame the child in such a way that she’ll continue to hate Edward.” I closed my eyes for a second, absorbing his orders. “You will stay as my guest as long as you wish, without being treated like a prisoner, after Edward’s wedding. It’s up to you if you want to be his mistress or not.” That was fourth. “I’ll give you the power and authority to teach and deal with the children in the castle however you want. You don’t need to take anyone’s permission. I will announce to the villagers that you will be the royal teacher of Hue Castle.” That was fifth. He stopped walking and looked at me. “But if you don’t abide by all these rules, Lady Farrow, you should be ready to embrace your punishment.” He walked towards me again. “And for that, I don’t need to ask your master Edward.” I sucked in a deep breath to fill my lungs with air—he made me feel nauseous with his presence. “You want to know the punishment?” he smiled. I didn’t respond, so he continued. “The child, Lady Farrow. I’m sure you’re intelligent enough to understand that how vulnerable the children are.” The bastard would kill the child. “If you love the child and want to stick to Edward, then you better accept all my propositions.” He placed his hand on my face. “Always remember I’m the king here and not Edward.” He patted my cheek gently but I felt baby snakes slithering on my skin. “And don’t even think of running away.” His gaze was hooded with a warning.

  He leaned back. “Now that we are clear, let’s continue where we left off.” I was still too stunned to respond. “The book, my dear… we need to see if it’s readable.” He offered his hand. “Come, have a seat.” How could this bastard change my life all of a sudden and still act so composed as if nothing had happened?