by Aya Ling
I send him a glare and tread on his foot in retaliation. He doesn’t seem to mind—he bends his head and whispers in my ear, “I love you.”
I go rigid with shock. It’s so sweet of him to say that, but so cruel as well. He’s making it doubly difficult for me to say goodbye.
But I’ve no chance to argue with him. The waltz has begun, and it takes all my concentration not to make a fool of myself on the dance floor. I step forward, back, twirl, lean back, keeping in beat with the music. Lucky for me, Edward’s a good leader. When I gradually get used to the pace and moves, the moment does have a surreal quality. Magical. A dance that I wish would last forever.
But the song has to end. There’s always an end.
As the music fades away, I notice the guests near the entrance are turning their heads and whispering among each other.
Through the open doors, the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen enters.
Cinderella has arrived.
And it’s just like the story. Partly due to her own beauty, and partly due to some charm the fairies must have cast on her, Elle commands the attention of everyone in the ballroom.
The snowy white ball gown Meg created is simply perfect for Elle, flowing around her in a glittering mist of diamonds and silk. A silver tiara sits on her golden hair, which is piled high on her head, allowing a generous view of her creamy skin from neck to collarbone. Her big blue eyes are wide with awe as she takes in the ballroom, her lips slightly parted. If I hadn’t seen the dress before, I wouldn’t recognize her. The ugly (not so ugly in the beginning) duckling has fully transformed into a swan.
Even Edward is staring. I ignore the sourness rising in my chest and tell myself this is my cue to leave. It’s what I wanted all along, for the prince to fall in love with Cinderella. I start to back away, inch by inch, but before I can disappear unnoticed, his arm curls firmly around my waist, effectively preventing my escape.
Warmth tingles through my body—Edward hasn’t forgotten me, even though he was temporarily struck by Elle’s beauty. But on the other hand, I’m at a loss what to do now. I look around for Krev, but the goblin has disappeared. Or is just hiding from me. It’s too simple to duck behind those pillars and curtains.
And then an angry voice slices through the air.
“How dare you!” Lady Bradshaw hisses. She points an accusing finger at Elle. “Where did you steal that dress? How did you sneak inside the palace?”
She moves toward Elle as if to shake her, but Henry steps out and grabs Lady Bradshaw’s arm.
“Consider where you are,” he says, his tone courteous but unyielding. “You do not want to make a scene at the prince’s ball.”
Some anger melts from Lady Bradshaw, but she doesn’t move.
“She is my servant,” she snarls. “She has no right to be here.”
Murmurs of disbelief and amazement ripple through the guests.
“She has an invitation,” Henry says calmly. “There is no way she could have entered without it.”
Lady Bradshaw lifts her chin. “Do you dare deny it, Elle? You have worked at my house for ten years and this is how you repay me?”
That’s right, showing up at the ball and stealing her daughter’s chance in the limelight. Way to go, Elle. Fitting retribution for a woman who tried to have you drowned.
Elle darts a frightened glance at her former employer. She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out.
“Answer me,” Lady Bradshaw presses on. “A servant masquerading as a noble. Do you realize the enormity of the crime you have committed?”
“That’s enough,” I say sharply. If it gets around that Elle is a low-class working girl, I doubt the king and queen will approve Edward choosing her. Not to mention that he apparently has no intention of announcing Elle as his choice.
“She is no servant. This girl here is Elle Bradshaw, daughter of the late Earl Bradshaw by his first wife.”
I might as well have thrown a bomb. Instantly the guests are chattering and pointing and making noises of disbelief.
Elle makes her way to me. “Miss Katriona, what are you talking about?” she whispers. “Mamsie doesn’t even know who my true parents are.”
“Remember the day I came to the greenhouse?”
Her hand flies to her throat. “What you’ve been holding back from me…is this?”
“Katriona!” Lady Bradshaw bursts out. “Have your senses taken leave of you?”
I hold her angry gaze. Leaning forward, I pitch my voice low. “The child you gave orders to have drowned has survived.”
Blood drains from her face. For a moment she looks as vulnerable as a little girl.
“How did you…”
“That’s why she looks familiar!” a woman exclaims. Poppy’s mother, Lady Montgomery, pushes her way toward Elle and scrutinizes her closely. “Dear lord…isn’t she the spitting image of Olivia?”
“Who’s Olivia?” I say.
“The late earl’s first wife,” Edward says. “She visited the palace when I was still a boy. I barely remember her anymore, since she moved far away from the capital when she married Earl Bradshaw. Lady Montgomery is her younger sister.”
I drop my jaw. So that’s why Lady Montgomery seemed familiar. The shade of her honey-gold hair matches Elle’s exactly. It’s hard not to believe they’re related.
Edward strides forward. “This lady,” he indicates Elle, “has every right to be here. Any problem can be withheld until tomorrow. For now, let us not keep the other guests from enjoying the ball.” He raises his hand, and soon music fills the room.
Lady Montgomery leads Elle off the dance floor, Poppy and Sir Montgomery following closely behind. Wow. Looks like Poppy and Elle are cousins.
“Edward.” I manage to slip my hand out of his. “It’s about time that you asked her to dance.”
He stiffens and pins me with a probing stare, like he’s making sure I’m sincere.
“Is that what you really want?”
I don’t meet his eyes. “You promised.”
A dreadful silence hangs between us, thick and heavy.
“As you wish,” Edward says, his voice clipped.
Silently, I watch him approach Elle, who’s still surrounded by her new family. He makes a bow toward Elle, offers his arm, and leads her onto the dance floor. Poppy turns and shoots a questioning look at me. I smile and turn away. This is how things should be.
I make my way through the guests, who are gathering on the dance floor. A girl whispers to her friend that the prince has now deserted me for another. I only smile at her and continue walking. It is better this way—Elle’s beauty is so overwhelming that no one blames Edward for directing his attention toward her.
I don’t feel like watching them dance, nor am I inclined to talk to anyone, even though Mr. Wellesley is heading my way, sympathy etched over his face. All I want is to be left alone.
I wander farther into the palace and soon find myself on a balcony overlooking the gardens. I lean on the balustrade and look up. The moon is pale and luminous and round—my only companion in the night. A breeze comes up and ruffles my hair. Behind me, the sounds of music and chatter fade into the distance. This may be my last night in Athelia.
I don’t know how long I stand there, trying to console myself that I’m finally going home, when the familiar popping noise occurs.
“Hey girlie.” Krev bounces in midair. “Barthelius has been extremely impressed with you, but he still wants to see how you’re going to achieve happily-ever-after.”
“Go away, Krev.”
He settles on the balustrade. “You don’t look the least happy. Don’t feel like leaving Eddie?”
“Go. Away.”
“All right, all right,” Krev huffs. “It’s almost midnight, I’m warning you. Remember you still need Eddie to propose to Cinderella before her gown disappears.”
“It’s nearly midnight?” I look up. There’s this huge moon-faced clock on the main tower, like the Big Ben I’ve seen on
a postcard of London. The long hand of the clock is nearly reaching the short hand.
Damn! I didn’t expect it’d be midnight this soon. Meg’s magic will fade—what if it happens when Elle is still on the dance floor? I’ve got to get her out of here. Oh, and I hope that Edward has proposed. He’d better have.
I turn on my heel and run back to the ballroom. From the second-floor balcony, I search frantically for Elle. Her glittering white wedding dress should be easy to spot. But I can’t find her. Nor is Edward seen. Maybe they’ve gone outside into the gardens. Judging from Edward’s dislike of crowds, that is likely. I doubt he’d propose with everyone watching him.
I dash to the first floor, tear through the guests like I’m a cop running after a murderer, and out the open double doors, straight into the gardens. I hear gasps, meet puzzled glances, but of course I don’t bother with them. I’ve got to find Elle; I don’t know if Meg has explained to her she must leave at midnight.
Blades of grass, chilly and damp, nip on my right foot. Somehow in my frantic rush, I’ve lost my shoe. But there’s no time to search for it. I curse, take off my other shoe and stuff it in my pocket, then continue to run.
Past a row of tulips, I run into Poppy and Mr. Davenport.
“Have you seen Elle?” I blurt.
“She went home,” Poppy says, giving me a concerned look. “Kat, are you all right? Where are your shoes?”
“She went home already?”
“She says she’s expected by twelve. That the dress is borrowed and she has to return it by midnight.”
I gape. I can’t believe it, she actually paid attention to the fairy godmother’s warning. Unlike me. I know the story by heart and yet I’m still here, looking like an idiot.
The clock starts to strike.
It’s midnight.
I look down; the hem of my dress is changing color. I clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle a cry. I’ve got to leave, got to get home.
So I bolt. Poppy calls behind me, but I simply pick up my pace.
In the courtyard I look for my carriage. But after a frantic search, all I find is the pumpkin, shrunk back to its normal size. The coachmen and horses have transformed as well; in fact, the cat is chasing after the mice under the carriages.
No. Freaking. Way.
“Lady Kat!” Bertram’s yell echoes through the air. He sprints toward me and grabs my elbow. “His Highness has been looking for you.”
I don’t want to go to him. But I’m pretty sure I can’t get away when Bertram, a professionally trained palace guard, is now intent on dragging me off to Edward. Besides, my carriage is gone. Elle is gone. I can’t walk home barefoot, nor do I know the way. Perhaps it’s best that I find Edward and demand what on earth he is thinking.
As we start off, Bertram glances at me curiously. “Why are you wearing a different gown?”
I make some lame excuse about not getting the nice one dirty. When we near the maze, I spot Edward striding toward us. Relief spreads over his face when his gaze falls on me.
“Kat.” His gaze travels to my feet, and instantly he takes me by the shoulders and makes me sit down on a bench. Oh my God, this is the same bench where I met him on my disastrous presentation day.
“Why did you run away and leave your shoe behind?” He asks, removing his white silk cravat.
“I…I was looking for Elle.” Ask him, Kat. Ask him if he has proposed.
But the words stick to my throat when he kneels before me and cradles my right foot, which is bleeding from a sharp pebble.
“Henry offered to accompany her home.”
“What?” I attempt to get up, but his left hand clamps on my shoulder and holds me there.
“Stay still,” he growls, looking irritated. “Don’t you move until I finish bandaging your foot.”
I sink back on the bench. “So, um, did you….?”
He raises his face; his eyes are like dark, bottomless pools. “No.”
I should be mad. After all the trouble I went through to get Elle to the ball, after making him promise to let me return to my family, it turns out that all my efforts are wasted. Still, a traitorous sigh escapes me.
“Thank God.”
He quirks an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “Didn’t you tell me I had to marry her?”
“Yes, but I—” I look away. His gaze is amused, mixed with tenderness. My mouth goes dry and I focus on my lap. “You know why.”
“No.” His eyes glimmer. “Tell me why you’re glad I didn’t propose to Elle.”
“Because I love you, dammit!” The words burst from my lips. Screw the story, I can’t lie to myself anymore.
His entire face lights up as though sunshine just poured down on him. Still kneeling before me, he grabs my hands and pulls me close. Soft, warm lips meet mine.
“So long have I waited to hear you say it,” he says, his breath tickling my chin. “Now I can let you go.”
I swallow and try to keep the tears from spilling. It’s time for us to say farewell.
“Will you marry me, Kat?”
What? First he tells me he’s letting me go, and then he asks me to marry him?
He smiles wryly. “Do you think the happy ending can be achieved if Elle and I marry?”
I start to shake my head. Slowly, realization dawns on me. “But…if you and I…”
“Exactly. The only way for you to break the curse and return to your family, is to marry me. I have no feelings for Elle; only friendship exists between us. But with you,” he squeezes my hands, “I’d be the happiest man alive if you would consent to be my bride.”
Heat rushes to my face. “Then why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“In the beginning, I did consider marrying Elle. Without the happy ending, I could keep you here in Athelia.”
“So that day when you were in the greenhouse with Elle…you tried to flirt with her only because you didn’t want me to leave?”
He nods. “However, I relented. I decided I couldn’t let my selfishness prevent you from returning to your own family. Besides, I won’t stand in Henry’s way. The duchess may disapprove, but now that she knows Elle is actually the earl’s daughter, she will give her consent.”
A tear rolls down my cheek and plops on the back of my hand. Sweetness, sadness, bitterness, happiness…conflicted emotions rise within me. The irony! All along I’ve been so focused on the original story that I failed to see that the happy ending could be easily achieved by marrying the prince myself. But once we marry, I’ll have fulfilled my mission and must go back. Yet if I choose to stay, what kind of life will it be, both of us longing for each other but unable to marry? Not to mention that I can’t forget my own family.
Edward takes a silver shoe from his pocket and slips it on my bandaged foot. How did he find it? How did he know it belonged to me?
“Marry me, Kat,” he says, wiping my tears away with his thumb. “Say you’ll be mine.”
I can’t stop crying. I don’t deserve him, I truly don’t.
“Kat?”
I throw my arms around his neck.
“Yes,” I sob. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
FORTY-TWO
Reader, I married him.
Not right after the ball, though. After discussing with the king and queen, we set the wedding date for six months later. The royal wedding required ample time to prepare. And neither Edward nor I were keen on marrying right away.
Galen tracked down Adam Snyder’s widow and extracted a written confession from her, thus sealing the proof that Elle is indeed the earl’s daughter, and therefore Lady Montgomery’s niece and also Poppy’s cousin. After being summoned to a few court hearings, Lady Bradshaw was ordered to yield two-thirds of her financial assets, along with Earl Bradshaw’s country estate, to Elle, who used a portion of the money to pay the remaining balance on the apartment for Mrs. Thatcher and Billy. With assistance from Mr. Davenport, she established a foundation for children from the poorest and most miserable classes. An orphanage and
secondary school are to be benefited from the foundation’s support.
Much to my surprise, she did not agree to marry Henry—not in the near future anyway.
“I am no longer the poor servant girl who relies on him all the time. I have a job at the palace and I need to learn how to manage the foundation. Both of us need time to adjust to our new roles. And I also need time to get acquainted with my new family.”
Poppy and Mr. Davenport bought a middle-class townhouse with a loan from Sir Montgomery. She visited me at the palace frequently until she got pregnant. Elle volunteered some time to lend a helping hand to her cousin. With her deft, capable hands and sweet nature, she and Poppy got along exceedingly well.
Bianca disappeared from the capital for a few weeks. Meg later informed me that my ‘sister’ had tried to find the fairies (maybe she wanted another spell di amor), but lacking connections, she had no luck. When she returned and found Claire already engaged to Randall McVean, she accepted a proposal from Lord Mansfield’s nephew.
Lady Gregory has not gone back to Lysander, but Meg continues to visit her in the capital and keep her updated on her fairy husband. Meg has improved slightly with her magical abilities, but I still wouldn’t trust her to cast a spell that can last more than twenty-four hours.
I moved into the palace the very day after the ball, determined to spend as much time with Edward as possible. The king and queen welcomed me with enthusiasm; Bertram informs me they are simply thankful that I managed to convince Edward to tie the knot. For most of the time, we continue to work hard on improving the lives of the citizens. I introduce him to the concepts of sick leave, maternity pay, health insurance, etc., which deeply impress him. Leisurely hours are spent mostly in his private garden, where he gives me lessons in botany and gardening. I hardly remember anything, because we usually end up in a steamy make-out session. It’s one of the few places in the palace—along with the storage room—where we can get some privacy. Neither of us mention my leaving, so as not to spoil the little time we have together.