Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(87)

“Nothing. I just thought, since this is the sitting room . . .”

She gives a tinkling laugh, a laugh that contains derision. “And I thought you had grown used to being a princess! Did you not know that there can be more than one sitting room in a house? Did you not know that I usually receive close acquaintances in my drawing room upstairs? Come along.”

I shrug and follow her upstairs, though there’s an uneasy feeling in my stomach. A housemaid, who’s dusting the landing on top of the stairs, stares at me when I pass. Like I’m a freak.

By now, I have a feeling that Bianca didn’t invite me here to introduce a new pupil. I swallow and wish that we could get this over quickly so I can return to the palace. Even though there is nothing to be afraid of, and it’s not the first time that I have gone to pay calls alone, I don’t like this house. It has the same unwelcoming atmosphere as the hostility Bianca holds toward me.

Bianca leads me not to the second floor, but curiously, the third floor. Strange. I desperately try to recall the typical layout of a wealthy family’s townhouse—the third floor is usually reserved for the members of the family. Well, I am supposed to be family, but still, it’s weird that she would bring me to this area.

“Is your husband home?” I ask.

“Gone out to the casino,” Bianca says dismissively. She doesn’t seem to care much for her husband, even though Lord Mansfield’s nephew is considered a catch. “He can’t hunt or shoot during winter, so the casino is his favorite place. It is dreadfully difficult to occupy oneself when it’s snowing outside.”

She leads me to a small room, the door locked. I clench my fists and brace myself. If she dares to do anything to me, I won’t hesitate to punch her. Bertram is outside, and if I am gone for too long, he will definitely come in and inquire for me.

Inside is a room that is sparsely furnished. There is a bed in a corner, a few chairs, and a compact fireplace. Then, as my gaze wanders around the room, a girl who is sitting on the bed rises and comes forward.

This must be the person that Bianca wishes me to meet.

I gasp and squeeze my eyes shut, but when I open them, the girl is still there. For a moment, I am frozen like the icicles hanging from the roof. The girl looks exactly like me. Red hair, gray eyes, freckles splashed over her face.

Katriona Bradshaw. The real sister of Bianca, the real younger daughter of the Bradshaws.

The other girl is apparently shocked as well, for she takes a step back and grabs one of the posts of the bed. “It cannot be . . .” she whispers, her face chalk-white.

“Mercy me,” someone else utters. I whirl around and find myself facing Lady Bradshaw. I haven’t seen her since a year ago, when I accidentally ran into her and Bianca moving out of their old house. She looks much thinner than when I last saw her, and older as well. I guess country life didn’t suit her. “Who are you? Which one of you is my daughter?”

My first thought is to bolt out of the room, but I am paralyzed with shock. How could Katriona Bradshaw suddenly turn up? Am I not supposed to be inhabiting her body? Where was she all this time? Did something go wrong with the goblins’ spell?

All I can think of is, This is bad. Really bad. Bianca’s revenge on me has started off with a bang.

“Witch,” Bianca hisses, pointing a long, accusing finger at me. “You have been masquerading as my sister. You used some despicable charm to get the prince. You should be burned at the stake.”

“No.” I fall backward and cower against the wall. “I didn’t do anything. There must be some mistake here.”

Bianca steps closer, her eyes glowing with fury. “Then tell me this: what is our mother’s middle name?”

I lick my lips. No idea. I rack my brain frantically, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard it during the year I was in Lady Bradshaw’s house.

“Coraline,” the other girl says. “Aileen Coraline Hamilton.”

“What is the name of the first governess we had when we were ten?”

Governess? I didn’t even know we had governesses. When I was still at Lady Bradshaw’s house, there was only this music and dancing master called Pierre.

“Miss Dawson,” the other girl says in a monotonous voice. “I never liked her.”

There is no point in continuing this interrogation.

Bianca turns toward me, eyes blazing, and crosses her arms. “Explain yourself, witch.”



* * *



The king and queen are already in the dining room when we arrive. Both of them look surprised when I enter with Bianca and Lady Bradshaw accompanying me.

“Katriona?” The queen raises a quizzical eyebrow. “Did you want to invite your mother and sister for lunch?”

“She is not who you think she is,” Bianca says coldly. “In fact, I doubt her name is Katriona at all.”

The king and queen look at each other, and then at Bianca, as though she’s lost her mind. Like in a drama onstage, Bianca steps aside, revealing the real Katriona.

I feel like throwing up or running away. If only I could think of a better way to handle this. But try as I might, nothing comes to mind. Even if I had prevented Bianca from coming to the palace today, she could find other ways to expose me. Katriona Bradshaw’s presence at Bianca’s house must have already attracted gossip. The best that I can hope for is that Edward might figure out a miracle to save me. He’ll stand by me. That’s for certain.