Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales #3)(57)

A sudden movement arrests my attention; Gemma has snatched the satchel Elle brought and picked up the basket containing the dishes Amelie packed.

“Hey!” I make a grab for the items, but the iron cuffs from my wrists prevent me from reaching her. “Those are mine!”

“Not anymore.” Gemma inspects the contents of the satchel. “Hmph. Some decent stuff here. These will fetch a pretty penny.”

“Lady Elle will be furious when she knows!” I do my best to appear intimidating, but Gemma lets out a cackle. “She won’t know, your trial is scheduled tomorrow. Won’t be surprised if the judges sentence you to the noose.”

She slams the cell door, leaving me in darkness. I’ve no comfort but the lingering smell of chicken roasted in spices.



* * *



I had a nightmare that night.

I’m arrayed in a gorgeous turquoise gown, my hair twisted and braided with yellow ribbons, and a diamond pendant resting in the hollow of my throat. Amelie had sprayed my neck and shoulders with a new perfume that smells like roses and lavender. Everyone’s attention is on me, and a ripple of murmuring and whispers flows through the ballroom as I make way to the center of the dance floor.

I crane my neck and search for Edward. We’re supposed to open the dance together. We had practiced a complicated choreography in his private garden.

But no matter how I search for my husband, I can’t find him.

“Kill her!” A cry tears through the crowd, and it seems to have caught fire. The whispering and murmurs change into deafening chants, and the audience that appeared to be aristocrats is in fact a large group of commoners, their expressions bloodthirsty.

How did this happen? I look up, and discover a noose hanging over my head. I must escape, but then I find that my hands are bound, my feet tied to a heavy rock. Chains trail from my wrists, making clanging sounds as I struggle.

“Witch!” Bianca hisses, her long finger pointing accusingly at me. “You impersonated my sister and forged her signature! For this heinous crime, you shall be sentenced to death!”

“You deserved it.” A cold, hard tone that belongs to Katriona Bradshaw. She stares at me with vengeance in her eyes. “You stole my name, sent me to Moryn, and made me suffer. It is only fair that I am entitled to what you got. I will never divorce the prince.”

“No.” My throat is dry, parched and scratchy, my voice crackling. “No way. Edward needs me. I must return to his side.”

Elle appears, her expression sorrowful, filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Kat, but His Highness isn’t here. We don’t know where he went.”

“Time to go.” Someone pokes my back—Gemma, I think?

I stumble forward, and my gaze finds the noose swinging above me. They're going to hang me. My life is about to end. Edward will never see me again.

“NO!” I scream. “I’m the princess! Edward married me! Let me return to him!”

I wake up, my teeth chattering, my chest heaving. I cough, and for a moment I wonder if my old symptoms have returned. No, it’s more likely the freezing cold.

Then a noise interrupts my dizziness. “Get your lazy arse off the bed now. You have a trial today.”





28





Kat





Memories of that eventful day when Bianca accused me of identity theft come rushing back to my mind, and I repress a shudder. I don’t want to go back to court. And it’s going to be worse this time.

“I need a lawyer,” I say, biting down on my bottom lip. It’s unlikely the judges will give me a fair trial when I’m no longer royal. And to be honest, I am guilty. But maybe Mr. Davenport can at least reduce my final verdict. I don’t want to be the next one pushed under the noose.

Gemma snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. I ain’t wasting my time, and you don’t want to be late for your trial.”

There’s a pain in my stomach; I don’t even want to think how prison food is prepared. Or maybe my immune system is weaker after those days in my cell. Whatever it is, I have to keep standing firm. I’d rather go to trial than return to that dank, miserable, claustrophobic room.

“I know a lawyer personally,” I say again. “Please. Lady Elle will compensate you any expense.”

Gemma rolls her eyes. “I ain’t wasting my time,” she repeats. Then she gives me a hard shove in the direction of the door, where a blue-uniformed officer is waiting. “Get out.”



* * *



Gemma was lying about not wanting me be late for the trial. There’s a big difference compared to my trial when I was princess. The Common Court is smaller, and there are only a few judges sitting on a raised platform. A clerk is in charge of the procedure, reading out names and calling witnesses, and occasionally provides legal assistance from a thick book on his desk. There is an audience, but only about a few dozen, unlike the teeming crowd when I was at High Court. Looks like my trial isn’t publicized, or there has to be more people. Maybe Bianca or Katriona wanted my case to be kept as low-key as possible, so Edward, or the king and queen, won’t know about it. I scan the audience for Elle, but she isn’t here either. I’m completely on my own.

Be strong, Kat. Do your best to exonerate yourself. You must stay strong for Edward’s sake.