Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales #3)(67)
I open my mouth, but can’t find the words to argue with him. I’d be happy as long as we can live together, but it isn’t enough, no matter how I try to convince myself. Athelia will not accept a prince living with a woman without a marriage license. Our children will suffer from a nebulous, uncertain identity. And even in our world, marriage rights matter as well—LGBT groups in most countries are still fighting for their rights.
Edward takes my hands. There’s a sadness in his eyes, though his grip is firm. “More than anything, I want to have you in my bed. But the last thing I want is for you to suffer public wrath. When we marry, I want you to be the happiest bride in Athelia.”
He pulls me into his arms, resting his chin on my head. “Trust me,” he murmurs, his lips moving over my hair. “When you are officially mine, I will have you in bed every night. You will be yawning every morning at breakfast, and my parents will understand it is because I’ve kept you up late in night.”
I blush, remembering the embarrassing conversation that day. When Edward and I came back from our honeymoon in Enrilth, he had tutored me in Athelian culture well into the night. As a result, I was blurry-eyed and sleepy the next morning, and the queen inquired after my health. I had blurted that Edward was the reason for my drowsiness, and naturally, everyone assumed we had a wild, passionate night, when in reality it was him giving me princess lessons so I can fool the others in my memory-lacking state.
I draw back slightly and give him a mischievous smile. I may be easily embarrassed, but I’m not an innocent debutante. “I’ll hold you to that.”
* * *
Later that night I lie in bed—alone—staring at the pine-green ceiling. It’s all Edward’s fault. I’ve rarely had a fitful sleep since I left him, though knowing his affection for me, I doubt he’s having a restful night either.
Three months. It’s going to be three months, or even longer, until we could be married again. But even if we marry, there will be no blessings—save for our close friends. People still believe I’m a witch.
I turn to the other side, bunching the blankets between my legs. Don’t lose faith, Kat. This isn’t the end of the world. Somehow, I’m reminded of the time when I was at Lady Bradshaw’s house, when I was desperately trying to figure out how to complete the fairy tale and return home. This is just another obstacle in the path to success. Even if I never achieved my goal of getting Cinderella together with the prince.
But what can I do? I don’t want to move out; I’d rather that the entire Athelian public hate me than leave Edward’s side.
Talk to Mr. Wellesley, I decide. He’s my adopted grandfather; I should spend more time with him. The article that belittled me was published in Athelia Today, and Mr. Wellesley has connections with the magazine. I’ve got to do something.
33
Kat
“I’d rather wear that dress today.” I point to a sky-blue gown with white ruffles around the collar, but no trimmings on the skirt. It’s the plainest gown I have. “I plan to take the omnibus downtown.”
Amelie pauses. “His Highness is concerned for your safety.”
“Which is why you and Bertram are coming with me. There are plenty of shops near The Bookworm.” When she looks unconvinced, I add, “Amelie, I’m not a wanted criminal. I’m going out because I want to talk to some people who might help me move back to the palace. Not because I like to contradict His Highness.”
“This had better be worth it,” she says, but she takes the blue dress off the hanger. As I hold up the bulk of my hair so she can lace up my back, she mutters, “I wish they’d do away with those stupid rules and let you return soon.”
Bertram is waiting for us when Amelie and I descend the stairs. His smile lights up his whole face as he gazes at Amelie, who has once again let her hair down, which falls to her waist like a chocolate waterfall. I’m tempted to ask her to stop wearing her hair in a stiff bun, but considering her job, it is easier for her to clean the room and dress me up without her Rapunzel-like hair getting in the way.
“His Highness said he’ll try to return in the afternoon, so we’d best head back after lunch. If that’s all right with you, Princess Kat?” Bertram says, though his gaze is glued on Amelie. She blushes and looks away.
“Absolutely,” I say, trying hard not to laugh. Bertram really has it bad.
* * *
Once we reach the downtown area, I tell Amelie and Bertram to wait for me at the famous statue of King Ulrich on a horse. Ulrich is one of the founding fathers of Athelia, and his statue is set in the middle of a large market square. The Bookworm is in a narrow alley near the square.
However, when I step off the carriage and proceed to the square, I realize there’s no way we can wait at the statue. There’s a raised platform set in front of Ulrich’s horse, and surrounding the platform are dozens—no, hundreds of people. I’d have to pick another meeting point.
And then, an unnaturally loud voice blasts through the hustle and bustle of the people filling up the square.
“How many of you have suffered from the disastrous crops this winter?”
I scan through the dark frock coats and brown calico dresses until I zoom in on the person who’s speaking. He’s standing on the raised platform, and curiously he’s able to project his voice over the crowd, though I’m sure that loudspeakers don’t exist in Athelia—not when electricity isn’t used in daily life. There’s a huge, strange-looking coiled tube placed next to him, which I was later to learn was Athelia’s version of a megaphone.