by Aya Ling
Mary purses her lips. “All right,” she concedes. “But you must stop if you smash any eggs.”
I rub dirt on my face and hide my hair in a rather unflattering kerchief, just in case the servants might recognize me. Mary has lent me one of her old dresses (with some tweaking in the bust and waist), since the ones I brought from Moryn are too ladylike. Imagine wearing a peach-colored silk gown in the chicken coop.
The chicken coop is a short walk from the cottage. It’s huge—I can’t see the other side of the fence. It’s also noisy with the squawking and clucking, and smelly from chicken manure. I dodge a rooster that tried to peck my ankle and nearly sink my foot in a pile of manure.
“Are you in charge of this entire place?” I ask Mary disbelievingly. “There’s got to be hundreds of chickens in here.”
“We need to provide for the palace,” she says, heading to a wooden shelf. “The others will arrive later. The boys live in the stables and the girls near the kitchens, so they’re usually later than I. We manage all right, but it's a chore when we have to clean out the coop. Wouldn’t want the place unclean and the chickens getting disease.”
She hands me a basket. “Collect the eggs and put them in here. You can tell a hen is ready when she squawks. Then sort the eggs by color and place them in the cartons on that shelf. I’ve labeled the cartons already.”
“No problem.” If I can walk backwards with a long train, I can tackle this egg-collecting. I feel like the heroine in The Goose Girl. In the fairy tale, the real princess was tricked by her maid and had to tend geese before her true identity was revealed. In my case, I’m taking care of chickens instead of geese.
I do okay with the egg-collecting, thankfully. Some hens are uneasy—Mary tells me they want to hatch the eggs, while others are more docile. I also help clean the coop. Several boys and girls arrive later; they appear to be in their teens. I act quiet, keep my head down, and they leave me alone.
When we return to the cottage for lunch, Bertram is standing outside, pacing to and fro. His eyes light up when we approach.
“Everything fine with yer, Prin...Kat?”
“Nothing to worry about,” I say, lightly punching him on the shoulder. A punch from me would have the impact of a mosquito bite to him. “But thanks for coming to check up on me.”
“He came because he wanted a square meal,” Mary says. “The kitchens refused to give him fourth helpings ever since he was old enough to demand them.”
“Aw, it wasn’t so,” Bertram protests. “They had guests that day so Cook couldn’ spare more. ‘Sides, I gotta check up on Kat. His Highness would never forgive me if anything happened to her. Last time she got attacked in the street, he went white as a sheet.”
Mary glances at me, a curious look in her gaze. She must be wondering what the prince’s relationship with me is. Bertram also realizes he has said too much and tries to change the subject.
“Joel ain’t back for lunch today?”
“The school provides meals. I told him he could come home if he wants, but most other children take meals there, so he doesn’t want to stick out. Besides, it’s a long walk.”
I’m gratified to learn that Joel gets half a day of school with other servants’ children, and in the afternoon he runs errands. I’m surprised that he is allowed an education when compulsory education isn’t enforced, but Mary tells me it’s easier when the servants are educated. They can do more when they are able to read and write.
I wonder how Princess College is doing now. Before I left, I had decided with Edward that we would push for compulsory education for children, since my original idea of the Eight-Hour act didn’t do much for them. Once I get out of here, I’m going to march down to Princess College and see what I can do.
* * *
When Bertram leaves, whistling a tune, I help Mary clear the dishes and wash up.
“What do you think about Bertram?”
She raises her eyebrows. I had expected that she would be more malleable compared to Amelie, since she suffered from domestic violence and had to go through a divorce, but she seems tougher than I thought. Later I was to learn it has to do with pride. “Is this about his infatuation with my sister?”
“Sort of. Just curious—not that I’m asking her to accept Bertram, it’s entirely her choice, but I was wondering of the possibility of them getting together.”
She hands me a dripping dish for me to wipe dry. “Amelie can be stubborn, but I think she will come around. The problem is with Bertram. He needs to develop his affection. Right now it’s more of an infatuation.”
“What do you mean? Bertram has liked Amelie for ages.”
“Do you know the one time he presented her a bunch of flowers and it gave her allergies?”
“Oh.” Edward had told me that story on our journey to Northport, and I only felt amused at that time.
“They need to spend more time together, and if Amelie believes that Bertram is the man for her, she will accept him. I’ve told her I didn’t know my ex-husband well enough when I married. You see, it isn’t only my divorce that has made Amelie reluctant to have a relationship.”
“Can you elaborate? I mean, explain to me.”
“When we were children, my father had an affair.”
I almost drop the plate. “But… but…”
“And it’s not because he didn’t love my mother. As a matter of fact, he was so in love with her that it made him feel weak. So in order to appear more manly, he decided to take a mistress. It wasn’t hard for him, my father was good-looking,”—if Mary and Amelie inherited his looks, then I can see why—“and there were plenty of scullery maids in the kitchen who would gladly tumble in the hay with him for a silver coin. Or even free. My mother knew, but she never scolded him for it. There was this time that my mother took ill, and my father risked infection by staying with her. My mother would always be grateful for him for that.”
She looks at me pointedly. “That is why when I met my ex-husband, I thought he wouldn’t have this problem. He was so confident, so sure of himself. But even though he didn’t need infidelity to prove his manliness, he did seek other women. There was a mistress who demanded more money than he could afford from his pay, so he started to gamble. When he gambled away our house, he took to alcohol. He became a monster.”
As I listen to her pour out his story, I can’t help feeling how lucky I am. Edward never gave me cause for infidelity, nor do I think he would ever doubt his ‘manliness.’ I’m also surprised that Mary is willing to tell me so much, but I have the sense that she is lonely.
“Have you ever thought of finding another man?”
“I’ve had enough of he-creatures for a lifetime,” she answers. She looks just like Amelie when she speaks. “But I won’t forbid Bertram courting her, if she would have him. I made sure she wouldn’t allow herself to be trampled on.”
“I don’t think Bertram would ever be violent to her,” I say. “Edward would skewer him first, and I’d roast him later.”
Mary breaks into a smile. She finishes the last pot and wipes her hands on her apron before speaking. “Amelie is right.”
“About what?”
“Most people in court have been talking about the new princess and her strange behavior, but Amelie told me you were the best mistress she ever had. I see that now.” Mary sets a hand on my shoulder in a matronly way. “You had better make that other lady step down from the throne and become princess again.”
I don’t know how I’m going to achieve it, but one day I will.
17
Kat
It’s a messy job taking care of the chickens, but having nothing else to do all day, I tell myself it’s better than most manual labor in Athelia. I do get tired from collecting eggs and cleaning manure, but it’s also a relief I’m no longer easily out of breath. Life at Mary’s certainly cannot compare to my life in the palace, but I’m not complaining. There are advantages, such as not having to put on multiple layers of petticoats and dresse
s, and have my hair primped and curled every day. On the other hand, it’s boring for the mind. I miss the days reading the paper, proofing for Edward and offering suggestions.
One day, I am chasing a rooster that had somehow wandered out of the fence, when I notice someone heading in my direction.
Edward.
I halt immediately, all thoughts of catching that rooster forgotten. He’s back from Moryn. At last.
Edward strides up and despite the lines of worry on his face, there is an amused gleam in his eyes. “You look terrible,” he says, plucking a feather that got stuck to my chest.
“Hey.” I smack his hand. “I thought you were a prince, not a pervert.”
He withdraws his hand, but he rakes his gaze over me, and the corners of his mouth lift. Blood rushes to my face; I’m both embarrassed and thrilled. Why can’t I maintain my dignity so many times when we meet? Falling on my feet in the presentation, getting my hair tangled in the branches and Claire’s croquet party, stepping into the fountain during a dancing lesson… so many instances that my clumsiness surfaces. He finds it cute or even endearing, but I’m not a young girl anymore.
A soft cluck nearby. Mary hovers near the coop, the rooster in her arms, and there’s apprehension in her expression. When Edward glances at her, she turns red. “Your Highness! Forgive me, I didn’t mean to bring Miss Katherine here.”
“Don’t blame her, Edward. It was my idea.” I explain to him how bored I was, and since I’m incompetent with most stuff, helping out in the coop is the only way to occupy myself.
Edward holds up his hand. “I have no intention of blaming anyone,” he says firmly. “Mary, you will excuse us.”
“Actually...we should excuse ourselves,” I say, taking his arm. “There are helpers in the coop. They might not recognize me, but they will definitely recognize you.”
His arm slips around my waist, making me lean against him, and Mary’s eyes widen. I give her a sheepish glance and drag Edward away. Maybe Katriona Bradshaw did something to infuriate him; he really shouldn’t be embracing me in front of others, especially when Katriona is still legally his wife. Luckily it’s Mary that saw us, not one of the helpers.
Edward doesn’t stop until we reach a deserted place deep in the forest, and then his passion erupts. Pinning me against a tree, he pushes my hair away from my face and devours my lips with startling passion. He had kissed me when he sneaked me away in a carriage in Moryn, but that time was fraught with tension and I was eager to leave. Now we are safe in the furthest corner of the palace, with little chance of anyone coming and walking in on us, he shows no sign of stopping. Every time he breaks off the kiss so we could breathe, he would start again. And for a moment, I’m glad I’m not princess. As he rips off my kerchief and my hair tumbles around my face in loose, messy locks, I don’t have to worry about Amelie scolding me for messing my hair again.
So I wrap my arms around Edward’s neck and practically jump on him. If he’s surprised by my passion, his reaction can only be of pleasant surprise. By the time we finally break away, my lips are puffy, and I’m probably sporting multiple strawberries on my neck.
“I’ve missed you,” Edward says, keeping his arms around me. “It seemed like a dream when I met you in Moryn, but now you are in the palace, I know you are truly here with me. Would that I were able to evict Katriona and install you in the suite.”
“I’ve missed you as well.” I inhale his scent and let out a contented sigh. “Mom and Paige were worried about me because I was acting like a zombie—a soulless person.”
“I suppose I should be worried too, but I am glad to hear you missed me so.” He strokes my back. “They must have been unwilling to let you go.”
There’s a pang when I think of Mom and Paige. “Naturally. But I made my choice, Edward. I choose you.”
A fierce joy shines in his eyes when I said I chose him. “I can never replace your family, love. But I promise you that as long as I live, I will stand by you and hold you dear.”
“About Katriona Bradshaw...did you get along with her?”
He snorts. “I am aware that she is not responsible for your leaving, but to be honest I cannot tolerate her presence. She is everything you are not, and I cannot imagine a worse person to be my wife.” He tightens his arms around my waist. “I’d already talked to Jonathan, though there wasn’t much advice he could give. Since you are here, he might have some different suggestions to make.”
I draw back, my interest piqued. “How?”
His lip curls, and there is a ruthlessness in his smile. Edward isn’t benevolent all the time. Once, when I was attacked by a man in the streets, he had looked so murderous that I wouldn’t be surprised if he would have done more than mere punishment.
His gaze sweeps over my disheveled state—my messy hair, puffy lips, torn collar—with unmistakable satisfaction. “You could pose as my mistress. I could set up a house for you in the city and visit you daily. Once you have my child, it will be evidence that Katriona Bradshaw is ill fit to be my wife.”
I poke his chest. “You primitive lout.” Plus, it irks me that a woman’s value is judged by her fertility.
He smirks, but then becomes serious. “I need Katriona’s signature of consent, plus a public confirmation in court, for the divorce proceedings. Before I can obtain those, in the meanwhile we need to establish a new identity for you. You cannot declare that you are Katriona Bradshaw.”
“Hmm.” I pretend to ponder the idea. “How about we tell everyone I’m an angel banished to the human world?”
“An angel that was sent to comfort my solitude.” He smooths my hair from my face. “Be serious, dearest. I’ve been thinking Mr. Wellesley would be a good choice. He has an estranged daughter who passed away a few years ago; you could pose as his granddaughter.”
“I’d love to be Mr. Wellesley’s granddaughter. It’ll also explain why I love books so much. But won’t it be better if I pose as a noble?” Knowing Athelia’s customs, it might be problematic if I were a commoner. Mr. Davenport said Edward couldn’t marry me unless it’s a morganatic marriage.
“A noble is more easily traced, as there are family records. Besides, you could be another precedent. You’ve taught me that all men should be equals. If I marry you when you’re a commoner, it will help break down the barriers between the ordinary folk and the aristocracy. I do not believe classes ought not mix. Especially when there’s such a charming woman from the untitled.”
I blush. “You’ll make me conceited if you keep exalting me like that.”
He laughs. “Considering the number of peers who disapprove of you, I’d say you need more praise. Everyone should see you as I do.” He withdraws from me with great reluctance. “I hate to say this, but I must be going back. Suspicion will be raised if I’ve gone missing for too long. By the way, I almost forgot.” He extracts a velvet pouch from a satchel he’s carrying, and presses it in my hands. “I didn’t have enough Athelian currency on me when I met you in Moryn, but now I do.”
The pouch is heavy. I peek inside, and repress a gasp. It’s filled with gold coins—crowns, actually, the informal term in Athelia. Not pounds, shillings, or pennies, but the most valuable unit. I could buy Mary’s cottage with the amount he has given me.
“Edward, no. You’re giving me too much.”
“Take it.” He uses his don’t-argue-with-the-prince tone with me. “You never know when you might have an emergency. Ask Mary to send word to Amelie if you need more.”
I can’t think of any emergency that might need so much money, but when he mentions Mary, I pause. Mary won’t take payment, but I don’t think she’d mind if I replace the water jug or a new cap for Joel.
“Yes, but I think half would be…”
“One more thing.” Edward cuts me off. He takes my hand and slides something cool and hard on my finger. It’s a ring, a simple one that doesn’t have any gems.
“But I already have your wedding ring.” I show him the ring I had strung
in a chain around my neck. “What’s this for?”
“As you can’t wear the official ring before we’re married, I want you to have a substitute. I’m taking no chances of other men flirting with you.”
I gape. “You’re insane if you think I’d let anyone flirt with me.”
“It would help to deter anyone who has intentions. If you make it clear that you are already taken, it will greatly reduce the chances of anyone bothering you.”
I give him a playful shove on the chest. “So far, you are the only one bothering me.”
“Indeed.” He places a hand on the back of my head and kisses me so intensely that I’m panting when he breaks off. “More practice, remember?”
I give him an exasperated look, but he merely smirks. “Take care, love. I will be back as soon as I can.”
* * *
I go shopping for necessities the very next day. While I honestly don’t need so much money, I’m thankful that Edward had given me the pouch. I don’t have to borrow clothes from Mary; I could also get new underwear, my handkerchief, my own shoes, various items that I would prefer not to borrow from Mary. Best of all, I could purchase a heavy cloak, scarves, and mittens for the cold weather. It is a curious and novel feeling, going shopping. Previously, when I was at Lady Bradshaw’s house, I rarely bought anything except books. Everything else was provided, and I never liked shopping on High Street anyway. The shopkeepers were more enthusiastic about Bianca.
When I moved into the palace, there was even less need for me to shop—Amelie and Mabel took care of everything I need. Perhaps the only time I needed to buy something was Edward’s engagement gift, which was paid by the check I got from writing articles. How privileged I was when I arrived in Athelia. Now that I am a commoner, I realize how useless I am. If it weren’t for Edward, I might have starved, or at least led a pretty hard life.