Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales #3)(82)

Today, the headlines are about the new uprising in Moryn. A few weeks ago, Augustin had gone so deeply in debt that he had to raise taxes again, and this time his people had enough. The Moryn capital is now plunged into civil war.

My insides go cold. Another uprising in Moryn. Will Augustin be able to resolve this again? And Henry’s still there…is he going to be okay?

I walk slowly, my mind on Moryn, when I hear a gunshot.

My heart stands still for a moment. Guns exist in Athelia--Edward had mentioned most policemen equipped with a revolver, but I’ve never seen people using them, apart from hearing them fired in the honor of welcoming Augustin at the State Visit.

“Get down!” Bertram shouts.

The next second, things happen in rapid succession. I’m pushed to the ground with such force that my body hurts from banging on the ground, and then I discover Bertram grappling with a heavyset man with bulging arms and a broad chest.

Another gunshot goes off.

Bertram stumbles, clutching his side.

Amelie shrieks—a most terrible sound that pierces the air, as though she were the one shot.

There’s a grunt of pain—Bertram has punched the shooter in the stomach, and the gun falls on the ground. I don’t know where I got the strength, but I leap forward and pick up the gun. It’s heavy, and I have to use both hands to grasp it firmly.

“Stop!” I yell. “Stop, or I’ll shoot!”

To be honest, I don’t think I could have fired that gun. I have trained in karate, but I’ve never picked up a gun in my life, and as Bertram is in close range, I’m afraid I might wound him instead.

While the shooter stares at the gun in my hands, maybe debating whether he should run for it, Bertram uses this chance to knock him out. A blow to the head, and he sinks to the ground.

“Call a policeman!” I yell at the nearest person. A crowd has gathered, but they’re standing far away.

Amelie rushes past me and presses a handkerchief into Bertram’s side. Red liquid seeps from her hands, soaking her handkerchief.

“Call a doctor! We’ve got a wounded person here.”

As I continue to point the gun at the man who shot Bertram, I try to collect my thoughts together. Unless it was an accident—that man was trying to shoot me. But I don’t recognize him—I’m sure I would if I had ever met him. He’s the second largest man I’ve seen in Athelia, after Bertram.

By a miracle, there is a doctor in the park. He asks Bertram take off his shirt and inspects the wound carefully. After a while, he pronounces that Bertram will be all right.

“Luckily, the bullet only grazed his side. It’ll hurt pretty bad and he’ll need a few stitches, but none of his organs are injured.”

Amelie lets out a small sob. She flings her arms around Bertram’s neck and kisses him, right on the mouth.

There is a flash of surprise in Bertram’s eyes, but he puts his arm around her neck and draws her to him. It’s not until the policeman arrives that they break apart.

It is then that I am able to put down the gun and sink to the ground. Cold sweat has gathered on my brow, my neck, and my knees have turned into jelly. If Bertram weren’t there…I could be dead now. I’m so glad to be alive. Not just because I’ve no desire to become a corpse, but because I can’t bear to think of how devastated Edward would be.



* * *



At the Metropolitan Police Headquarters, we sit together while the head sergeant questions us. Bertram was given the option of going home, but he insists he ‘ain’t such a weakling.’ But he doesn’t say no when Amelie helps him hobble across the room, though her strength can’t be sufficient to support his weight.

“...and when I was walking along, I saw that man with his back ter us, a gun in his hand and aiming for Princess Kat. So I jumped him.”

The burly shooter sits sullenly in a corner in handcuffs. When the sergeant asks for his identity, he gives it reluctantly.

“Ethan Bollard.” The sergeant jots down the info on a yellow pad. “Why’d you shoot the young lady? What’s your relationship with her?”

“Didn’t mean to.” Bollard shrugs his heavy shoulders. “Was an accident. I don’t even know ‘er.”

“You’d need to come up with a better lie than that,” the sergeant says severely. “No man would go for a stroll in the park with a gun.”

Just at the moment, there’s the sound of boots pounding on the floor, and the next second Edward appears, his face white and agitated. His gaze zeroes on me immediately, and I assure him I’m all right.

“It’s Bertram that’s hurt. He saved my life.”

Edward grasps Bertram’s hand with both of his. “I shall see that you are amply rewarded for your services,” he says, quietly but firmly. “That is the second time you have rescued Kat.”

Bertram goes as red as a beet. “’Tis my job, Your Highness. Nothing ter make a big deal about.”

“I insist.” Edward uses his don’t-argue-with-me-it’s-useless tone, then he glances at Bollard, who actually flinches under His Royal Highness’s murderous gaze. It’s amazing how one look from Edward can intimidate this huge, muscular man.

“Did you try to kill my wife?”

No one bothers to point out I’m not married to him yet.