Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales #3)(89)



He kisses me gently and leaves. Amelie brings me some tea and biscuits, but I can't eat. I’m worried about what the Anti-Aristocratic Union might do. To tell the truth, I wouldn’t mind if they abolish the peers. Or even the monarchy. Even though Edward assured me there are hard-working peers, the people will only see those who have made ridiculous complaints. My worry is that blood will be shed, like the uprising in Moryn. Isn’t there a peaceful way to resolve this problem?

I get up and pace in the room, racking my brains for a solution. And then, an idea hits me.

I rush down the stairs and call Bertram. “Saddle the horses,” I call. “I need to go to the palace.”



* * *



The carriage rattles on the street, and I brace myself. Will my idea succeed? Will the king accept me? And what about the nobles when they hear about it? Will they accept my ideas? No matter. I will never know until I try.

My hands clench around the seat. Okay, Kat. One step at a time. First, see the king and worry about the rest.

After a while, the carriage is slowing down. I pull the curtains apart and look outside.

Hundreds—no, thousands—of people are marching in the streets, carrying banners and flags, chanting slogans like “Down with the lords!” “Justice to the people!”

A man, whom I recognize as a member of the Union, is holding a flaming torch. What is he going to do?

“So you need to sell your horses, Your Grace?” He shouts. “We’ll make the decision easier for you!”

He sets fire to a handsome white-gold carriage in front of a mansion. In a few seconds, the carriage is swallowed by red and orange flames. Plumes of smoke rise in the air as the crowd roars in approval.

Bertram throws the door open. “You’d best get off, Princess Kat,” he says, an urgent look in his eyes. “Looks like a frenzy over there, and there’s no telling what they might do if they see our carriage. Got to get you to safety.”

I hop off, cursing when my heels hit the ground. For the purpose of requesting an audience with the king, I had asked Amelie dress me as a noblewoman. My gown is a deep forest green, trimmed with gold lace, and my hair done in emerald green ribbons. A gold pendant the shape of a griffin rests on my throat. Everything of my attire screams of wealth.

Bertram guides me to a pub in a narrow alley, away from the main street. He hustles me inside, has a few words with the owner, and leads me to a table in a distant corner. “Lie low for a while, Princess. We’ll wait till the protests die down, and I’ll take you home.”

I know the safest option is to do what he says. At first I make myself calm down with a mug of hot milk that the owner of the pub brings me. But as the deafening roar of the mob continues on and on, I know I can’t turn back. I left the house because I had a mission, and I’m not giving up unless I make myself heard.

“Bertram.” I stand up. “I have to go to the palace.”

He looks shocked. “But it’s too dangerous outside! His Highness would never forgive me if…”

“I’m not taking the carriage,” I say, pulling the ribbons out of my hair. “You heard the people shouting outside. I need to see the king because I’m trying to stop this. If you don’t help me, that’s fine, because I’m going anyway.”

I call the pub owner and lift the pendant from my neck. “How much would you say this pendant is worth?”

He looks scared but answers. “A…about fifty pounds, my lady.”

“Good.” I’ve shopped enough in Athelia that I know how much fifty pounds is worth for. “I need a coarse, dirty cloak that can conceal my dress. I’ll also need a donkey cart, or a wagon, that can get me to the palace. If you can get these for me, this pendant is yours.”

Bertram looks shocked—what I’m asking for is WAY lower than fifty pounds. But I’m too concerned about the current situation to worry about costs. Actually, I'm thankful that I’m in a position not to be worried about money.

The pub owner promptly fetches what I ask for. I grab the cloak and fasten the clasp, letting it cover me completely, ignoring the stink of beer and sweat from it. I don’t want anyone recognizing I’m part of the privileged. The cart isn’t half as comfortable as the carriage, as there aren’t any cushions to smooth over the bumps in the road, and I know my butt must be bruised, but it’s better than going on foot.

When we arrive at the palace, I take off the cloak, revealing the expensive gown I’m wearing, and stride up to the sentinels guarding the heavy doors.

“My name is Katherine Wilson,” I say, holding my head high. “I am here to ask for an attendance with the king.”

Bertram does some indecipherable gestures with his hands, and soon I find myself in the courtyard. Despite the urgent situation we’re in now, I can’t help feeling nostalgic as I gaze at the magnificent palace where I used to reside. Two years ago, when I first saw the palace, my only thought was that I want a camera to keep this in my memory when I return home. Today, the palace has become my home.

I waste no time getting to the king’s receiving chamber. I’ve no problem finding my way—I’ve lived here for a year anyway. The servants stationed outside the chamber tell me that the king is currently in an important meeting with his ministers. “That’s all right,” I say. In fact, I expected that I couldn’t see him right away. “I’ll just wait here until he finishes.”

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