Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(41)



“There must be enough to feed an army,” I mutter, making a decision to share them with Amelie and Mabel. No way can I finish them by myself.

Once I open the box, which is gorgeously wrapped in red ribbons and layered with paper tissues, a memory flashes into my mind. I remember Sideburn Sidney, one of Bianca’s suitors, and how I had encouraged him to send Bianca gourmet chocolates, which eventually ended up in my own stomach. And when I bite into one delicate truffle shaped like a rose, more memories come up, such as my trying to come up with schemes to annoy Bianca so she’d be swamped with suitors and have no time to go after Edward. It’s like Proust dipping a Madeleine cake into his tea and memories of the past springing into his mind, only in my case, it’s a lot less romantic.

Giggles and squeals come from the direction of my bedroom. It must be my maids—they come daily to deliver freshly ironed clothes and clean up the room. I gather the half-opened box and head to the bedroom.

“Princess!” Mabel’s grin widens and she points at my bedspread. “Do come and see what His Highness got for you!”

Something in her giggling face tells me it can’t be a good thing—not by my definition, anyway.

My curiosity piqued, I hand her the box. Luckily, I did so, because I might have dropped the chocolates. A mass of crimson rose petals are arranged in a heart-shape on the cream-colored bedspread.

“What the...” When did he sneak in my bedroom? Having flowers in the suite is nothing new. Every day, I’d find new vases placed in corners and on tables, overflowing with lavender and violets and starflowers. But this . . . I feel like crawling under the bed to hide my embarrassment.

“’Tis so romantic of our prince,” Mabel sighs. “Didn’t expect that he’d know what a heart shape is. He always looks so serious. Aren’t you frightfully pleased, Your Highness? I’d jump over the moon if a man did this for me.”

“It’s time you take the rugs out for a good shaking,” I say, but I’m sure my face is scarlet. Only Amelie manages to keep a straight face, a cotton handkerchief tied around her face. I learn later that she’s allergic to flowers. Sometimes, I wonder if a goblin had cast a spell over her that destroyed every romantic bone in her body.

But it’s not just the flowers and chocolates that get me. Those gestures are sweet, of course, but nothing is better than spending quality time with Edward. Since my memory has been gradually returning, Edward stops drilling me in Athelian culture and replaces the nightly lessons with nightly conversations. We sit in my study—he takes the sofa while I lounge on the window seat—and talk. I finally learn how old he is (twenty-two, thankfully not much younger than me), and when his birthday is. He tells me about his childhood, his tutors, his friendship with Henry, and even his lack of confidence when he was overshadowed by his older cousin, Philip.

“My grandparents, uncles and aunts have always favored him. His ebullient character, plus his love of sports, are more likely to find support among the people. As you may have sensed already, I have more of an introverted nature. If required, I will perform social duties and attend events, but if given the choice, I would rather not appear in public.”

“I so understand,” I say, drawing an amused grin from him. He always seems to find my modern phrases ‘quirky and charming,’ even though I’m not trying to impress him. “That’s why I prefer to read. I’d go up to a podium and make a presentation in class, but I’m most at ease with a book.”

“As I am with my garden.” He smiles—a heart-melting, knee-weakening smile that I realize I had seen frequently, long before the wedding. And even if I don’t remember the magnetism of his smile, I can’t deny there’s a connection between us, and it’s occurring more and more frequently.

Edward leans a bit closer and fixes his gaze on my face, his eyes brimming with warmth and attention. “Tell me what kind of presentation you perform in your world.”

I brief him on college life—he’s hugely curious about how a girl can receive higher education along with boys. In Athelia, there were only boys’ schools until Elle and I established one for girls. I describe to him the exhausting schedule of juggling classes, clubs, finances, and a social life.

“A club?” He frowns. “How does a club work in your university? What kind of club did you join?”

I suppress a smile. Tara dragged me to the karate club because she had a crush on the hot mixed-Asian instructor. To my surprise, I found I enjoyed the lessons, and even after I graduated, I continued to practice and take classes whenever I could.

“Self-defense.”

“They taught you fighting at school?” Edward lets out a low whistle. “Every time I think I know all the skills you possess, you surprise me with another.”

“Intimidated?” I cock an eyebrow.

He laughs. “Not in the least. If anything, I’d feel safer when you are not in the palace. Can you show me how you fight?”

Since I’m in my nightgown, I can’t very well kick at him, but I demonstrate a few punches. I can’t do a knee smash or a shoulder throw, but I show him how to do a knife-hand to the throat, a back fist, and an elbow smash.

“And this is a crane’s beak,” I say, curling my fingers to shape my hand into the beak.

“And how do you attack with that?”

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