Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(21)

“The 27th,” he says, rubbing a hand on his forehead. “And it’s in January, not December. When did the historic battle with Moryn occur? The one over the dispute of the string of islands along our western coast?”

“Um . . .”

“Where is the soup spoon’s position during a five-course meal?”

“Next to the soup bowl?”

“Next to the salad fork.”

I groan and hold up my hands. “I surrender. I’ll never learn how to be a princess.”

“Nonsense. It is only a matter of time before you can memorize the details. Besides, if you have trouble remembering, you can always give me a hint. It is not like you are taking an exam.”

“But I can’t behave like a princess.” I plop on a couch and blow out my cheeks. “I can’t act all regal and aristocratic—something you can pull off without trying.”

“That is less of a problem than you may expect. It is well known at court that you have difficulty carrying yourself as a conventional princess. Very few nobles have not heard of your performance during your presentation.”

It takes a few seconds before I realize what he is talking about. “Did I really fall on my butt in front of your mother?”

“There is no need to be alarmed, Kat. Although you may make mistakes, she genuinely loves you. As do I.”

“I thought you promised no flirting when we’re alone.” I keep my eyes focused on my hands.

“I wasn’t. I was merely stating a fact.”

I wonder how he manages to keep a straight face while saying that. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you,” I grumble. Which only causes him to look amused.

“A great deal, love. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have married me.”

I roll my eyes. Who would have thought that this guy, who rarely cracks a smile when the servants talk to him, would turn out to be a huge flirt? “Next question.”

Edward continues to drill me with royal princess stuff until I start to yawn. My “jet lag” symptoms are much better by now, but I still need at least nine hours of sleep, plus a half-hour nap.

“We’ll continue tomorrow,” Edward says. He writes something in his pocket book and sets it carefully on the mantelpiece of the fireplace. “I have arranged for us to go picnicking in the forest, so we’ll have plenty of time alone.”

“Are . . . are you going to sleep there again?” I blurt. Having peeked into the changing room, it seems awfully small and stuffy for Edward. My conscience suffers when I imagine him lying in there, tossing and turning, or even sneezing. After all, this is his house.

He raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t speak, like he’s anticipating what I might say.

“Let me switch places with you. I’m shorter than you, so I’ll be able to fit in—”

“Absolutely not.” His voice is curt, leaving no room for argument. “Either I sleep in the adjoining room or share the bed with you. Your choice.”

Yeah, right. If I sleep with him, I doubt it can be just, you know, sleeping. In fact, I doubt any sleeping would be going on.

I stalk to the bed and pull up the blankets until only my hair spills on the pillow. He sighs, so faintly that I wonder if my ears are deceiving me. A moment later, the door of the changing room swings shut.

Guilt assaults me, even though I tell myself I have nothing to be guilty for. At the same time, I find myself wishing that I didn’t have to treat him so unfeelingly. Especially if what he said was true—how can I blame him for wanting me to stay? But staying here is simply out of question. By now, Mom and Paige would have known that I’ve disappeared. They’d definitely be frantic with worry. My picture is probably somewhere in the news, and Jason might be questioned, since it is at his place that I went missing.

I’ve got to get home.

I roll over to the other side and contemplate my chances. What can I do when there’s no cellphone or internet? I guess I can only wait until I get back to the palace, but I’m not optimistic. I remember that array of guards, like a solid wall, marching in our procession. And even now in Enrilth, there are at least a dozen servants—housekeeper, stewards, maids, stable hands—to wait on us. There will only be more people when we return.

“Girlie, open your eyes. It’s time to wake up.”





9





A peculiar voice that sounds neither male nor female is speaking into my ear.

“Wake up!” Someone pulls my blankets down, and I feel a sharp tug on my ear.

“Ow!” I open my eyes and receive a huge shock. Hovering before my eyes is an unnatural being with an ugly squashed face and pointed ears. His skin is a hideous mottled green, and his eyes, huge and yellow and bulbous, take up nearly half his face. He has his arms crossed, and he looks down at me with annoyance.

What?

“Took me ages to finally find you,” the creature grumbles. “Who would have known that Eddie would have taken you this far?”

“Who are you?” I sit up, fully awake. “Actually, what are you?” I pinch my arm, but nothing happens. I am still awake, in the dark room with only moonlight streaming in through the curtains.

The creature peers at me, his large yellow eyes blinking. “You really have lost your memory. Too bad we haven’t enough magic to restore it.” With a resigned air, he snaps his fingers, and poof! A book appears in midair. On the cover is a red-haired girl in a gorgeous dress.