Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(93)
“If that is the only way available, then so be it,” Edward says, as if he read my anxious look. “I suppose I do not need to remind you that I would do anything not to lose Kat.”
Poppy, who is clutching her handkerchief, sends me a brief glance. I think she means that it’s touching to see Edward so determined to stay with me.
“In that case,” Mr. Davenport says slowly, “you will have to file a divorce case. After you divorce Katriona Bradshaw, it is only then that you are free to marry Katherine.”
“I’ll do it.”
“You do not understand how difficult it is. While divorce cases are becoming more and more common these days, they often take six months to two years. And pardon me for saying this, but it’s unlikely that Katriona Bradshaw will be willing to grant you a divorce.”
Edward looks thunderstruck. Obviously, he never contemplated divorce and is unfamiliar with the rules concerning it. I jump up and reach for his hand, trying to calm him down. His grip is hot, almost painful, conveying that he is deeply shaken.
“She’ll have to,” he says flatly.
“It might not come down to that,” I say, alarmed at how agitated he is.
“The grounds of divorce require that the wife must have done something to wrong you,” Mr. Davenport continues. “Unless Katriona Bradshaw has committed adultery or a similar crime, it is unlikely you will be granted a divorce. Even if you are the prince. Now, are you certain that you wish to proceed with the idea of acknowledging that she isn’t Katriona Bradshaw?”
43
My hands are trembling when I am conducted to High Court. Much to my relief, there is an underground tunnel that runs from the palace to the court, which Edward explains has been in existence since three hundred years ago, when the king himself was tried for treason. Athelia had gone to war with Moryn, and the king was considering surrendering to the colonial empire in secret. They couldn’t get him to High Court because of the angry mob of people pelting him with rotten tomatoes and eggs. And so the tunnel was built, though it is unlikely for a member of the royal family to be accused again.
“You will be all right,” Edward says, placing his hands on my shoulders. “I won’t let anyone take you away from me. Whatever sentence is meted out—if there is one—I’ll have Father issue a pardon to you.” He kisses me right on the lips, completely ignoring that Mr. Davenport is only several paces away. It’s my fault. The queen once told the king that since he married me, Edward had become less inhibited, but she thought it was a good thing. He needed to relax more.
“I know.” I smile at him and kiss him back. “Let’s hope that this case will be over soon.”
Edward directs his attention toward Mr. Davenport and holds out his hand. “Jonathan, I trust that you will do your best to defend her. I am asking you, not as a prince, not as a command, but simply as a husband who doesn’t want to be separated from his wife.”
Mr. Davenport gives him a firm handshake. “Understood. As a husband, I would do anything to keep my wife at my side.”
I don’t know how many people have come to watch the trial, but I can feel their presence even before I enter the courtroom. The air seems thinner. It seems that there is less oxygen left in the courtroom, making it difficult to breathe freely.
I wonder what the people are thinking. Are they disappointed, angry? Do they believe Bianca’s accusation? I wonder what’s going on in Katriona Bradshaw’s mind. If she is anything like Bianca, she is unlikely to give up this chance to be princess. I clench my hands and take a deep breath. No matter what it takes, I am not going to surrender. I will not let anything, anyone, come between Edward and me again.
When I enter the courtroom, a hush falls over the audience. No matter what the outcome is, I bet that they will boast to their future grandchildren that they had once seen the princess summoned to court, an event that possibly won’t occur for another three hundred years.
Bianca, Lady Bradshaw, and Katriona are already sitting on the bench, accompanied by their lawyer—Mr. Jones, I think, from what Mr. Davenport had found out. The three of them instantly look at me when I am guided to my bench, my head held high, and their gazes give me shivers, just like the icy wind on my face before I went down to the tunnel. I tuck my hands in my ermine muff and will myself to stay calm. I must put my trust in Mr. Davenport and pray that it won’t come to Edward having to file for divorce.
The magistrate asks us to step forward. We go over the usual procedure, swearing that anything we say in court is the absolute truth. My heart beats quicker when it’s time to begin the interrogation. I look back, just once, and see Edward, who is sitting with Elle and Henry. I wonder what Elle is thinking. Would she believe that I am Katriona Bradshaw? More than once, she had thought that I had lost my memory.
The magistrate summons Bianca and Mr. Jones.
“Lady Pembroke,” Mr. Davenport says. “It is my understanding that you have accused my client of the crime of identity theft, passing herself as your sister.”
Bianca raises her chin and inclines her head ever so slightly, as though she were princess. “That is correct.”
“And when would you say that this identity theft occurred?”
“I had my suspicions,” Bianca says, sending me a look filled with venom. “When I accompanied my husband’s niece to her court presentation last year, this woman failed to recognize me. She asked me who I am.”