Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(39)



Then I meet the queen’s gaze. She is frowning, like she isn’t completely convinced of my lie.

I gulp. I really should try to get my memory back. But how?





18





When I arrive for our nightly lessons in the sitting room, Edward no longer wears that frosty mask of politeness. He’s twisting his wedding ring and shifting on his feet, a troubled expression on his face. He gestures to the sofa, indicating that I take a seat, but he remains standing.

“Mother said you acted out of character at the court presentation today.”

I adjust the silken wrap over my nightgown before sitting down. For all the prudish customs in Athelia, my nightgown is rather skimpy—the neckline is so wide that if I shrug, the material easily slips down my shoulder. Then again, recalling how Mabel tried to patch things up between Edward and I by bringing out that off-shoulder gown, maybe the design of this nightgown was made on purpose.

“I failed to recognize Bianca.” I look down on the ground. “I didn’t remember what she looked like, and when she talked to me, I asked who she is.”

Alarm flashes over his face. “Did she suspect anything went wrong with you? Were there many people nearby?”

I tell him how I tried to cover up. “I don’t think she guessed that I lost my memory, but I’m sure she’s still mad at me for stealing you.”

“Cease that thought,” he says sharply. “I was never her conquest.”

He’s using his commanding tone again, but this time, I don’t care. “I should have guessed it. I should have pretended I knew her. Anything but asking who she is.”

Edward crosses his arms. “We must get your memories back. It cannot be impossible. When you pushed me onto the carpet in the library—was it not a manifestation that you were repeating an action that you did earlier?”

I flush when I remember how shocked Liam looked when he caught us lying on the ground. Edward seems to sense my discomfort as well. He draws away and stares at the windows. The curtains are not fully drawn, which allows for a sliver of moonlight to sift through the glass, illuminating the side of his face. This serious, steadfast expression he wears . . . something stirs in my heart, going deeper than the flutters and jitters when he flirts.

Edward turns and faces me. “Come. I have an idea.”

Bemused, I follow him out of the suite, through a series of corridors and staircases, our slippered feet making light thuds on the floor. Lamps glow in brackets on the walls, though there isn’t a servant in sight.

“We still have time before the steward makes his rounds and extinguishes the lights.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see when we get there.” He pauses a second. “At least, I hope that you will remember.”

We reach a deserted corridor. Edward opens a door, searches for a lamp, and lights it. And then a strong jolt rocks my head. In front of me is a neatly furnished bedroom, with a rose-pink bedspread and apple-green curtains. A handsome bookshelf stands in a corner, with a large reclining chair next to it, laid with plump cushions of multiple colors.

“Oh my God.” I settle on the chair and reach for a book, only to find the bookshelf empty. “I . . . I had stayed here. It was . . . it was after the ball!”

Like pages in a book, scenes gradually unfold in my mind. I start to remember everything that I did here. I had eaten, slept, and read in this room, mostly with Amelie and some other maids. Edward never stayed in this room, but I can see him standing in the threshold every morning. Before our marriage, he was expressly forbidden to enter my room.

“My theory is correct.” Subtle delight is laced in his deep, rich tones. “I believe I have discovered how to recover your memory. You need to be exposed to the places you are familiar with. Previously, you didn’t remember anything since you had never taken that train and you had never been to Enrilth. You never set foot in our new suite. But you had spent an inordinate amount of time in the library and in this room.”

An adrenaline rush overtakes me, flooding my senses with excitement. It occurs to me that the same jolt also happened during the presentation—most likely because it’s a place I had been in and would likely not forget. On an impulse, I grab his arm and pump it in the air—it’s what I usually do with Paige when we’re celebrating. Then, sensing that he stiffens, I let go, but a second later, he wraps his hand firmly over my wrist.

“Kat.” He looks down at the ground before meeting my eyes. “I wish to apologize for my conduct that day. It was never my intention to confine you in the palace. Every day, I fear that the goblin might appear and take you away. I cannot help but worry when I’m not informed of your whereabouts.”

Guilt assails me when he mentions Krev. If I were a normal Athelian girl, he wouldn’t be so obsessed about knowing precisely where I am. There’s still a mild resentment when I remember his firm, commanding tones, but most of my anger has melted away since I had the time to reflect about it.

“I’m sorry as well.” I look at him in the eye. “It’s natural that you’re worried about me. I won’t ask your permission if I can go out, but I’ll make it a point to let you know where I’ll be going.”

“Now that we’ve made this discovery, I fully intend that you go out more often and explore all the places that you’ve visited in Athelia. Your old house, for example. Both Lady Bradshaw and Bianca have moved out, so you need not worry about encountering them again.” His eyes gleam. “I cannot wait until you remember everything, wife o’ mine.”

Aya Ling's Books