Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(33)

“Good morning, Your Highness!” The chamberlain bows, then glances around me, as though expecting somebody else behind me. “How are you settling into your official role?”

Terribly, modern world Kat would say.

“I’m fine. Thank you for your consideration.” This is what an Athelian princess would say. At the moment, I’m grateful that Edward took the time to teach me how to ‘behave’ properly.

“May I inquire why you are unaccompanied at this moment?”

Am I supposed to go everywhere with a servant in tow? “I would like to go out for a short drive. My limbs are stiff from sitting too long.”

“If you do not have a particular objective in mind, I highly recommend a stroll in the garden instead, Your Highness. Surely there is no need to go out alone.” The way he said ‘alone’ makes it sound like I’m doing something taboo. “A woman’s place is at her husband’s side.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Edward is too busy to join me. Please don’t look so alarmed, Monsieur Dubois.”

I ignore his disapproving glare, find an empty carriage, and tell the coachman to drive me to St. James Cathedral. Geez. If being a princess means that I can’t even go out on my own, then I sure don’t want to be shackled to this place.



* * *



St. James Cathedral is only about ten minutes’ drive, thank God. Now that I have time to take a good look at it, I’m impressed. Besides being ridiculously large, most of the walls are decorated with ornate carvings. My head could go dizzy from counting the number of roses wrought over the entrance.

But I have no time to admire the stunning architecture around me. I have to look for the small room I woke up in, which is pretty hard to find in a cathedral this large, so I rack my brains trying to figure out where it could be. I’m in the nave with arched ceilings and colorful stained-glass windows, where Edward brought me to see the king and queen. I recognize the rows of seats where the guests were sitting. We didn’t go through other rooms or pass any corridor, so I’m guessing it should be one of the doors on either side of the nave.

I have no choice but to find out myself. Trying to act as inconspicuously as possible, I open the doors one by one.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Someone says.

Like a child caught red-handed, I whirl around and find myself facing a middle-aged man wearing long, dark robes. One of the priests who work here, I suppose.

“I beg your pardon,” I say, managing what I hope is a disarming smile. “I . . . I think I left my wedding ring here. It’s kind of costly, and I just thought if I came here. . .”

He squints at me, and recognition dawns on his face. “Princess Katriona?”

I nod. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to trespass. All I want is to find my ring.”

“Prince Edward had ordered to have the place searched thoroughly.” The priest shakes his head slowly. “I understand that you are unhappy about losing the ring, but I’m afraid that someone already got it. We clean the chapel quite regularly, I assure you. It would have turned up if someone did not steal it.”

“I understand, but I would still like to try.”

The priest shrugs but tells me to go ahead. He’s thinking that I’m wasting my time. But the ring is the least of my concerns.

I make sure the priest has disappeared around the corner before continuing my search. I search for the small, hospital-like room, and then on the third door to the right, I think I’ve found it. There’s a small cot lying in the corner, the blanket as flimsy as I remember. I take off my white kid gloves because my palms are getting sweaty. Can I really succeed? Is it possible that I can find a way to get home through where I came from? Claire arrived in eighteenth-century Scotland through the ancient stone circle in Outlander, and that was how she got back.

I run my hands over the white-washed walls, feeling kind of idiotic but still praying with all my might that some magic spell would be triggered and that yellow-green glow would engulf me and take me back.

Please, I beg in my mind. Please, open up the portal and let me go home.

Nothing happens. I’ve practically wiped all four walls with my hands—will the priests be surprised that the walls of this room barely need any dusting?—and I’m still staring stupidly at the empty cot.

Maybe this is the wrong room. I try the one next door, and the next, but all I get is a pair of dusty hands.

I should have known. What happened in Outlander doesn’t apply here. I’m just wasting my time and making myself look a fool. I thought I could find a way out, but apparently, my wish is for naught. I’m an idiot for believing that what happened in Outlander could work the same here.

I stumble into the nave and sink on one of the benches, my heart as heavy as the stone pillars lining the sides. Unless Krev appears now, I’m going to miss my sister’s graduation. I’m going to miss the chance to introduce Jason to my family. And if Krev never shows up . . .

I sniff and reach for a handkerchief. It’s so hard not to burst into tears, but even in my despondent mood, I can’t cry in public.

I don’t know how long I’ve sat there until the people who point and stare and whisper get on my nerves.

So, I head back to the palace. As the carriage rolls along, I prop an elbow on the window and try to think of something positive.