Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales #3)(54)
“It’s all right, Elle,” I quickly say, though inside I’m scared silly. Without the protective shield of the princess title, plus Bianca’s long-felt hatred for me, I’m doomed. The fact is, I am guilty of her charge. I HAVE forged Katriona’s signature, no matter my motive is to save the school. If only Bianca and Katriona didn’t show up, my plan would have succeeded. And yet the unlikely has happened.
“I’ll be all right,” I say, though my tone lacks confidence. I take her hand and trace in her palm the two words: tell Edward.
However, Elle insists on accompanying me to the police station, despite dirty looks from Bianca. But no matter how she tries to help me, she’s no match for Bianca, who is bent on throwing me into jail. And with Langley as witness, I have little reason to defend myself. The best thing I can do is to convince them it was all my idea and Elle had nothing to do with it. I’m already in the mud; I can’t drag her into this mess.
“So you admit to what you did? You disguised yourself as Princess Katriona on purpose and forged her signature, in an attempt to take 102 Longbourne Street for yourself?”
I flinch. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Then you shall remain here until the trial is held.”
Elle gasps. “You cannot hold her in jail! How much is needed to bail her?”
“Quiet, you,” Bianca hisses. “If you dare interfere in the way of justice, then I shall accuse you of being her accomplice.”
I clench my fists and brace myself. I had better prepare myself for the worst. Once Edward arrives, he’ll figure out a way to save me. If I argue, with Bianca determined to throw me into jail, I’m likely to make things worse.
“For a crime as serious as hers, I suggest you keep her under chains before the trial,” Bianca says coldly. “If I were the magistrate, the very least she deserves is a sound whipping and eviction.”
“Of course, Lady Pembroke,” the sergeant says, simpering. After marriage, Bianca is as gorgeous as ever. Along with her authoritarian attitude, almost anyone in her presence will bend to her will. But not me.
Ever since she found out Edward and I were in a relationship, Bianca has harbored a deep resentment for me—a hatred that only intensified with time. My presence is poison to her; she’d do anything to see that I’m stripped of power. She’d never be queen, but with her sister on the throne, she could still wield considerable influence.
And she’s succeeding.
27
Kat
I am brought to jail, escorted by the burly policeman who had jeered at me at the station. Elle has gone to get Edward for help. If Bianca has the power and influence to have the police send me to jail without conviction, then Edward can certainly get me out. I may be punished for my impersonating Katriona, but at least I won’t have to be locked up. And knowing Athelia, I’m positive that their prison conditions will be horrible.
I’m bundled into something like a horse cart. Once I’m thrown into the cart, I lie down to avoid being seen by the people on the streets. The cart is dirty with animal droppings and stinks of body odor and sweat, but I’d take it over being seen, my hands tied behind my back and my hair unbound and a mess. If anyone recognizes me, I can’t bear the humiliation.
Closing my eyes, I pray that Edward would arrive ASAP.
When the cart stops, I open my eyes. There’s a commotion outside, and I wonder if we’ve been held down by a demonstration or rally. Maybe Liam has got the Union together on a protest march.
But then there’s the sound of the back of the cart opening, and I raise my head.
“Get off, wench,” the policeman growls. “If I need to haul you off, it won’t be pretty.”
I try to scramble off with as much dignity as I can muster. The din around me grows louder, which makes me wonder why it’s so noisy near the jail.
I look up, and receive a nasty shock.
There’s a hanging noose set up outside a yellow-brick building, and scores of people are gathered under the scaffold, as though they are waiting for a theatre performance.
“Is that a...” I swallow. “A public execution?”
“What, you’ve never seen one before?”
I avert my gaze, repressing an urge to throw up. While I am aware of a thing called morbid fascination, to see the Athelians clamoring to see a person hanged dead still sickens me to the core. There’s even a raised stand with well-dressed people sitting on it, and one of the ladies is fanning herself. As though she is here to attend an opera, not an execution.
“Want to watch the hanging?” The policeman says, grinning. “That’ll roughen you up for jail.”
A woman in rags, bound by the wrists, staggers onto the stage. The crowd roars. I swallow again and look away. “No.”
The policeman grunts, but tugs on the chain attached to my handcuffs, leading me towards the yellow-brick building. We have to take a longer route due to the crowd. It seems worse dragged out that way, with the people shouting ‘Kill her!’ ‘Kill her!” “Make her pay!” A wild thought enters my mind—what if Edward doesn’t come in time and Bianca somehow convinces the court (assuming I’d get a trial) that my crime is serious enough to be hanged for it? I’ve read Athelian papers; I know punishment for crime is much harsher. As the crime rate in the capital had risen along with the population increase, most Athelians approve of a stricter application of law. It isn’t impossible or unrealistic to expect a death sentence.