Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(8)
“Wait . . . what?”
Another knock on the door. The girl opens a crack and says something in a low voice. Then she stashes my slip in the sack she brought and slips out the door.
Hollywood Guy steps in, a serious, urgent look on his face.
“We shall depart for our honeymoon in a few minutes. There will be a carriage ride through the city, which will last approximately an hour, until we reach the railway station. I shall need you to wave and smile at the crowds that are already gathered along the streets.”
Honeymoon! And a carriage ride? Have I suddenly switched places with some actress by a random mistake?
“But I . . .”
He seems to have anticipated my confusion, for he holds up a hand, motioning that I should listen to him first.
“No doubt, you have many questions, as do I, but save them until we are alone. For now, it is imperative that you act like nothing has happened. Pretend that your memory is intact, or there will be great trouble.”
I stare at him, mouth agape. “Why? What’s going on?”
Hollywood Guy holds out his hand. I hesitate for a second, but I take it. I don’t know what’s come over me. Those gorgeous golden-brown eyes are hypnotizing.
“Trust me.”
* * *
The bright light streaming in from the tall, arched windows blinds me when we re-enter the cathedral. Guests, attired in period costumes that look straight out of a movie set, gawk at us. Hollywood Guy leads me to a raised dais, where there are two people wearing long, fancy robes embroidered in gold and silver.
My eyes bulge. The crowns they are wearing look so real—intricate designs of gold inlaid with rubies and pearls, with bits of purple velvet peaking between the arches. This film set sure has some serious financial backing.
The woman playing the queen comes forward, her gaze filled with concern. “Katriona, are you all right?”
It looks like she is referring to me.
“Excuse me, but I think you have it wron—ow!” Hollywood Guy squeezes my arm so hard that tears spring in my eyes.
“It seemed that nervousness, combined with the suffocation of the layers of clothing, have contributed to her unfortunate loss of consciousness.” Hollywood Guy keeps an iron grip on my arm no matter how many daggers I glare at him. “However, with a change of clothes and a drink of water, she has fully recovered. There is nothing to worry about.”
Like hell there isn’t! But with so many people staring at us, I’m reluctant to make a scene.
“I suggest that the sooner you leave for Enrilth, the better,” says the man who’s acting as king. He really is an impressive actor. The way he carries himself—chin raised, gaze firm, and a voice that resounds with authority—probably, few people dare to defy him even in real life. “Edward, see that your wife has an early rest. You still have a long journey ahead.”
Wife? They must be crazy—they all are. “I’m not—”
“My thoughts exactly.” Hollywood Guy—I mean, Edward—strokes the underside of my arm in a loving caress. “Besides, it will not do to keep the train waiting. Come, Kat.”
Kat. He says my name with such ease and comfort that it’s difficult to believe that we’re mere acquaintances. To call me with such familiarity, to touch me with such audacity—it’s more like he is an ex-boyfriend that somehow, I’ve completely no recollection of. Or maybe he is simply an extremely accomplished actor. Even though he told me to trust him, I’m not convinced.
There isn’t any time to dwell upon my doubts, for he is striding toward the exit. An arched doorway opens to a glorious cornflower-blue sky, dotted with fluffy clouds. Since I’m as good as handcuffed to him, I’ve no choice but to follow him. Plus, once we leave this amazingly big-budget film set, I’ll have a better chance to slip away and find someone who might be able to help me.
It’s dreadfully difficult to walk briskly in this magnificent gown, however. I do my best not to trip up, but once I make it to the exit and get a good look at what’s outside, I completely forget about my step. I tread on the gown and pitch forward.
“Kat!”
Strong arms wrap around my waist, preventing my fall, and a clean, masculine scent of freshly washed linen and soap surrounds me. Another time, I might be elated that a super-hot guy has his arms around me. But my mind is too overwhelmed to think of anything romantic.
What is this place?
Stretching ahead is a flight of steps carpeted in red velvet. On the foot of the stairs stands the most magnificent carriage I have ever seen, with ornate golden trappings and tall white stallions, complete with footmen, coachmen and the driver, making me feel like I’m in a Cinderella movie. But what really shocks me is the wide road stretching ahead and packed with people on either side. From where I’m standing, I figure there have to be hundreds at least, and that is only what I can see so far. I thought that the guests in the cathedral were pretty impressive, but all these people outside who seem to be waiting for us . . . there are too many of them to be plausible for a film set. They look . . . real. Too real to be filming for a Hollywood movie.
When the first few people in the crowds see us, a shout rings out in the air: “Long live Prince Edward! Long live Princess Katriona!” The others take up the chant, followed by a smattering of applause.
I look up at the prince, who is smiling and waving at the crowd.