Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(17)
I yawn again, despite fighting to keep my eyelids open. In the end, I surrender and climb into bed.
7
I wake up in the morning to the sun streaming through the window. I sit up abruptly, my mind blank. How did I end up in some bed-and-breakfast place? And then it all comes rushing back to me. Yesterday, somehow, I was dropped into this old-fashioned country called Athelia, and what’s more ridiculous is that I’m the princess of this country.
I jump out of bed and look around. It's so bright outside that I am positive that it’s no longer early morning. I guess the prince must be up already. He doesn’t seem the type to sleep in.
Sure enough, when I peek into the changing room, it’s empty. Whew. It’s much better this way. If we wake up at the same time, it’s going to be dreadfully embarrassing, especially if he walks around half-naked, searching for a shirt or belt.
I look for a dress to wear. Fortunately, the gowns here seem okay. Probably because it’s summer, they look pretty and well made, but not yards of fabric that one might drown in. But how am I going to get dressed? I don’t think it’s a good idea to go without the corset. It doesn’t have zippers, making it impossible to put on by myself. Not to mention that I can’t do my hair either, unless they can accept a sloppy ponytail, hah! I’ll have to find Amelie.
With a sigh, I open the door. A tall man in a dark blue uniform happens to walk by, and he freezes when he sees me. “Highness . . . you shouldn’t . . .”
In a few seconds, Amelie appears—so fast that I suspect she was hiding close by.
“Get inside.” She shuts the door with a bang. “Don’t you let anyone, other than His Highness and me, see you in your nightgown. His Highness will be very displeased if another man sees you half-dressed.”
“I’m not his property,” I grumble. “Where is he, by the way?”
“His Highness went riding in the morning, and he told us to let you sleep as long as you like.” Amelie appears a little uneasy as she looks at me. “Is everything all right with you, Princess Kat? Do you feel up to a bit of breakfast?”
It takes me a second to guess that she's wondering if I might be pregnant. “Of course. I’d love some breakfast,” I quickly assure her. “I’m so hungry that I could eat a horse.”
“Oh.” She seems disappointed, then she nods. “Would you like to have a breakfast tray served here, or would you rather go downstairs to the dining room?”
I look around the bedroom. There’s only a small, round table in front of the fireplace. And I’m not really keen on the idea of having breakfast in bed.
“Downstairs, please.”
“Let’s get you dressed.”
As Amelie laces me into a new corset and gown with amazing efficiency, an uneasy thought enters my mind. If Amelie is concerned about my getting pregnant, then what’ll the king and queen say when we return to the palace? Am I going to be pressured to produce a son so that the royal family will have an heir?
I really should get back as soon as possible.
* * *
Breakfast is like a full banquet, with strips of crispy bacon, flaky croissants, fluffy pancakes with a pat of butter and a pitcher of syrup, a hard-boiled egg sitting in a patterned egg cup, yogurt topped with freshly sliced strawberries, and steaming hot coffee served in expensive-looking silverware. Grudgingly, I admit there are perks of being a princess.
I’ve just finished a pancake when the door opens and Edward comes in. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and beads of water glisten on his neck, like he just washed his face.
“Good morning,” he says, coming over to me. “Enjoying breakfast? I confess that seeing you makes me hungry again.” He swipes a piece of strawberry from my yogurt.
“You’re just hungry from riding,” I say, but remembering that we have to pretend to be in love, I fork a piece of bacon and hold it out to him. “Here you are, darling.”
My voice sounds fake, but it seems to be working. A maid dusting the furniture looks away, and one has her hand over her mouth, like she’s trying not to giggle.
His eyes shining, Edward pulls out a chair next to me and takes my fork. Together, we finish the monstrous quantity of my breakfast. Doing my best to play the part of a loving wife, I try to act like I’ve known him a long time. It comes across easier than I expected when he’s such a willing participant, and we end up fighting over the last croissant. I’m still trying to grab his arm and make him give up when Bertram appears.
“Pardon me, Your Highness, but the coachman is waiting.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
Edward breaks the croissant and hands me the larger piece while consuming the rest himself. “Would you like to travel back hundreds of years in time?”
* * *
I’m not really into ancient historic sites, but when I step off the carriage, a gasp of wonder escapes me involuntarily. Enrilth Castle—can’t they come up with a different name?—is just like the setting you see in big-budget historical and fantasy films. A vast structure of stone, complete with multiple towers and battlements, is surrounded by a deep, wide moat. It would be complete if the two men in front of the drawbridge were in shining armor and carried a lance or a sword. But no, they look just like the villagers waiting for us at the train station. Both are stout and ruddy-faced, and they wear checkered shirts and dark pants. Upon seeing us, they remove their caps and bow deeply.