Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales #3)(92)
“Remarkably creative,” Lord Ashford says. “This means that everyone has a fair chance.”
“Not everyone!” A lord protests. “You can’t allow an infant, for example, or a woman.”
I bristle when he puts a woman on the same level as an infant, but I’ll leave the gender equality for another day. It is already a radical move introducing democracy to Athelia, when they’ve never heard about it before.
They continue to discuss the idea for a while. I can’t see everyone but it seems the opinion is divided. I grit my teeth. Hope that the Union isn’t planning anymore destruction.
The door opens. Lord Sunderland is the first to emerge—he looks surprised, then glares at me as though I burned his carriage. Lord Ashford bows and smiles, telling me that my idea of letting the people vote is brilliant (with proper regulations, of course). Henry asks if I will be returning to his house.
“She’s staying here.” Edward takes my hand, his grip firm. “Since Kat has arrived, she may as well stay. The palace, after all, is her home.”
I blush. “I’ll send Amelie a message.”
“I have to go to Parliament,” Edward says, seeming reluctant to leave. “They may not be ready to accept your world’s idea of allowing commoners vote, but perhaps they will be more amenable to passing the tax bill.”
I have my doubts, but all I can do is wish him the best and hope that everything will go well.
“Take care, dearest. I shall return soon.” He kisses me on the cheek, then he is gone.
* * *
I have to do something. I had thought my marriage to Edward would be the only problem I had to worry about when I came back to Athelia, but this conflict between the classes has gone way out of hand. With Augustin in prison, as well as our own domestic conflict, I wonder how we can resolve this.
I should talk to Liam, I decide. Even though I may be the last person he wants to see. I can’t tell him I would join him, but on the other hand, I also cannot blame the people rebelling. I have seen for myself the privileges of the aristocracy. Were Lord Fremont a commoner, he wouldn't be shielded. He would be denounced, criticized, and sentenced to jail because of what he did to Nell. I still think he needs to be punished, but for the sake of Nell’s baby, unfortunately I must let him go.
The sergeant looks frightened when I arrive at the station and give my name. He is the same person who had looked at me with contempt when Bianca accused me. He doesn’t know how to act around me—he doesn’t know whether to treat me as a commoner or a royal. Well, at least I am no longer regarded a witch.
“You…you wish to speak to the rabble-rousers, Lady?” His voice is trembling, and he doesn't dare to look me in the eye.
“Yes, I am acquainted with one of them,” I say. “I would like to speak to him.”
“But you need not to stoop to such levels…”
“There is no stooping,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended. “I am a citizen, just like he is. Just like you are. And stop looking at me like I’m a cannibal—I’m not going to report you to Edward or the king. Now, may I trouble you to bring me to the cells?”
The police, however, insist on bringing Liam to me, as they don’t want to let me see the cells. As if I haven’t been to prison before. I suspect that they think the prison is too shocking for my delicate senses, and they don’t want to be responsible if I swoon.
I wait for at least a quarter hour until Liam appears. Surprisingly, he has shaved and washed his face; the smell of soap is in the air. Most likely they told him to clean up because of my request to see him. Still, from the hollowness in his cheeks and the filthy state of his hair, I know he hasn’t been well treated in prison. There’s a clinking sound as he walks; a pair of shiny handcuffs gleam on his wrists.
There’s a curious gleam in his eyes as he gazes at me. I ask the sergeant to bring a chair for him. I don’t feel comfortable sitting while he towers over me.
“So,” Liam drawls. “Come to gloat? Or are you sympathizing with me, dear Kat?”
I resist the urge to tell him I am not ‘dear Kat’ to him. “I want to talk to you.”
“About our little display of discontent in the streets?” The corners of his mouth jerk up. “I can see where this is going. You are not unsympathetic to our cause, but you will tell me that violence is wrong, and we should seek legal means to plead support.”
“You’re wrong.” I didn’t study literature and history in college for nothing. “I know the Union is incensed because you’ve been giving lectures and distributing flyers all this time, yet the idiotic MPs at Parliament didn’t bother to listen. So as a last resort, you decided to use violence instead, because burning carriages will get you on the front page. It will make the peerage sit up and take notice.” I clear my throat. “I’m not against violence; it depends on how we use it. For example, if our ancestors didn’t rise up against Moryn’s colonization, we would still be paying taxes to Augustin.”
Liam lets out a long breath. “You should have joined us, Kat.”
“That’s not going to happen. What do you want, Liam?”
“Everything Edward has that I don’t,” he says quietly.
Dang. My original intent was to ask him what he expects to gain by burning carriages, such as a chance to speak in Parliament or an attendance with the king, but he took it the wrong way.