Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales Book 2)

by Aya Ling

  Something stirs in my mind, as though a pebble is thrown into my mind and ripples spread out in circles.

  Edward leads me to a corner near the windows.

  “Look, this is your favorite section. I used to order books from the authors you enjoyed most and have them stacked in this section.”

  I can’t hold back my curiosity. I step closer to the shelves and run my fingers over the leather-bound hardbacks. The titles leap out at me—mysteries, Gothic romances, fantasy fiction—I know that I have read those books before and cherished them. Some of them, I have reread many times. I raise my head and meet Edward’s eyes. I don’t know what happened to me just then, but I know that I have been here. I have been in this library and stood at the spot I’m standing on right now, while he watched me, his gaze filled with tenderness and longing.

  The next thing I know, I rush at him and knock him over. Edward lies with his back on the floor, and I am sitting right on his stomach.

  Oh, my God. What have I done? What’s wrong with me?

  For a moment, both of us freeze. Edward stares up at me, and there’s no mistaking the astonishment in his eyes.

  “I . . . I’m sorry,” I stammer, and I attempt to scramble away from him, but my heel digs into his ankle and he lets out a grunt of pain. “I’m so sorry,” I repeat, feeling completely mortified. I thought I had gotten over my clumsiness, but when it comes to him, it seems I can no longer maintain a calm and casual attitude. Only a short time, and he’s already messing with my mind in a bad way.

  Someone coughs. I look up and behold a young man with leaf green eyes and curly chestnut hair. It’s Liam, the son of Enrilth’s mayor. Also, a few patrons in the library are casting us disgruntled looks. Even in the modern world, lying on the floor with Edward in a tangle of limbs won’t be allowed in a public place like this. Not to mention Athelia, which has enough rules to fill an encyclopedia.

  I scramble up, my face burning. Edward, however, remains calm. He puts a hand on my back and helps me up, as though it were normal for us to engage in that position in public.

  “You wished to see me?”

  Liam nods, but he keeps his eyes firmly fixed on a sculpture.

  “I could return another time, since obviously, you are busy . . .”

  “No, no, we’re not busy at all,” I say quickly.

  It’s cowardly, I know, but at the moment, all I want to do is get away as soon as possible.

  I smile and turn to leave, only to run smack into the librarian, knocking several books out of arms. Oh, God. Kat-the-klutz is back in full force.

  I try to avoid Edward as much as possible for the rest of the day. Perhaps sensing my discomfort, Edward doesn’t ask me about my bizarre conduct, but occasionally, I catch him staring at me, a thoughtful, serious look in his eyes. I don’t know what possessed me at that moment—knocking Edward over and sitting on his body, as if I were a sex-starved creature. Does it have something to do with the goblins? Did they put some bizarre seduction spell on me? Maybe that’s why Krev told me I need to get back to my own world. The last thing I need is to pounce on Edward and rip his shirt with a full audience.

  14

  I dream of Jason that night.

  I’m in the magnificent palace library, browsing through the shelves, looking for the newest volume of a popular manga series. I wish I could read Japanese. I hate waiting so long for the translation to be released in the U.S.

  “Kat? Is this what you’re looking for?”

  Edward stands behind me, and in his hands is a glossy new paperback. I squeal and rush to him so fast that I run him over. I end up on his stomach and clutch the book to my chest.

  “How did you get this?”

  “I took the liberty to order books from your favorite authors.” He grins. “By the way, that is a limited special edition, with the author’s autograph on the first page.”

  “You didn’t have to,” I protest. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble to have the manga shipped from Japan, not to mention getting a special edition!”

  “I wanted to.” He wraps an arm around my back. “You gave up your family and your own world to be my wife. It’s the least I can do for you.”

  Overcome with emotion, I lower my head. Just before my lips touch his, a cough breaks through the silence.

  I look up and see Liam . . . no, it’s Jason! My boyfriend is staring at us, utterly shocked.

  “Jason?” I scramble away from Edward, my face in flames.

  “I’ll come back some other time,” Jason says, his expression hurt. “Since you’re obviously busy.”

  “No, Jason, wait! I’m so sorry. I was brought to Athelia by force . . .”

  He walks away.

  I jerk up, cold sweat dampening my forehead. It’s still dark in my room. I can barely make out the canopy hung over my bed and the reflection of the glass-encased clock on the mantelpiece. What a nightmare.

  Again, Jason appears in my mind. I dig deep in my mind, recalling his arms around me, his lips on mine. I miss him.

  Do you, really? A snide voice whispers in my head. Did Jason occur to you when you were sitting on the prince in the library?

  I let out a frustrated sigh and pound on the pillow. All my life, I’ve resented Dad for leaving Mom for another woman. There’s nothing I detest more than fickleness. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with breaking off an old relationship and moving on, but in my case, Jason didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t cheat on me or hit me, nor do I love him less. If it weren’t for Edward, I wouldn’t even think of leaving my boyfriend. And I don’t even know Edward that well. I don’t know when his birthday is, his favorite food, or any of his hobbies. I’m only attracted to him because he’s ridiculously hot and makes my heart flutter with his touch. It’s too superficial. I need something more substantial for a serious relationship.

  I’ve got to redouble my efforts to get back to the modern world.

  * * *

  There’s one advantage to being princess of Athelia that I would normally consider annoying, or even a handicap. On the pretense that I need rest and relaxation in order to prepare myself for child-bearing, Edward sends out a notice that the princess will not be attending any events except for really important ones. I can say no to all those parties and balls, nor do I have to cut ribbons or hand out prizes. This means I have plenty of time to plot how to get out of Athelia.

  Edward is in his office in another wing of the palace, no doubt editing some important memorandum or going over a letter to post to a foreign royal. The Athelian monarchy no longer holds any real political power, but it doesn’t mean that he can prance around idly, doing nothing but posing as a life-sized cardboard cutout. It’s me that doesn’t get involved in state affairs. The value of a royal consort is in looking beautiful and bearing children. As Athelia’s culture became more sophisticated, the princess-slash-queen is expected to be perfectly groomed in etiquette, but she still isn’t supposed to be make her opinion heard. Can’t say I’m surprised by that.

  Still, I need to be circumspect. Ever since Krev appeared in Enrilth, Edward has been a bit neurotic when it comes to my whereabouts. This morning Amelie took me to the tailor for a refitting—apparently, the seven-year difference had brought extra flesh to my hips and bust, and since my clothes are tailor-made, it was necessary to have them adjusted. When we returned, Edward was pacing in our suite like a tiger in a cage. Relief spread over his face, even though I was only gone for a few hours. If he knew I was still trying to leave . . .

  “You could stay here forever.” Edward’s voice echoes in my mind. It still makes my heart beat faster when I remember him saying those words. Simple words, but more eloquent than any fancy speech. He’s deeply in love with me, no question about that.

  But I can’t reciprocate.

  After thinking about various ways to escape, I decide to start with the wedding chapel. It is, after all, the place where I found myself in Athelia, right after I disappeared in Jason’s house. May
be I came through some secret portal in that room which resembles a hospital ward.

  But how am I going to get to the chapel? I have no clue where it is, and it may not be a good idea to ask Edward. He might grow suspicious, and I don’t even want to think about how he may react if he knows that I am scheming to get away from him.

  Pacing in my room, I wring my hands and think hard. Should I ask Edward in an offhanded manner where the chapel is? He might guess I’m trying to head home. I consider summoning a servant and trying my luck when another idea springs into my head.

  I give the bell pull a good tug. Only a few seconds pass before a maid enters my room, dressed neatly in the standard uniform of a white apron, a dark dress, and a white cap with streamers. It’s Mabel, a young woman who takes over for Amelie whenever the latter is unavailable or has her day off, but while her skill for dressing my hair can rival Amelie’s, her character can’t be more different. Amelie is serious-minded and bossy, while Mabel is flighty and loves to gossip. “Is there anything you need, Your Highness?”

  “Please refill the teapot,” I say, just for the sake of playing my role as princess. “By the way, I would like a copy of the paper that came out when Edward and I got married.”

  “You want to read the paper, Your Highness?” Mabel looks surprised.

  “When we left for the honeymoon, I didn’t get a chance to read the paper. I would like to see how our picture turned out when the reporters took it at the chapel.”

  Comprehension dawns on Mabel’s face. “Oh, they couldn’t have delivered the paper to Enrilth. It’s too far.” She curtsies and leaves while I settle down to more letter-writing, hoping that soon, I’ll be able to get the information I need.

  I have finished half a dozen letters when Mabel returns, bearing a steaming pot of tea and the paper tightly furled under her arm.

  “Here you are, Your Highness. Hope you don’t mind it’s a worn copy, but after so many days, it’s hard to get a copy that isn’t read.”

  “Oh, no, I don’t mind at all. Thank you very much.” I feel like giving her a tip, but it’s not practiced here in Athelia. Besides, it would appear suspicious if I gave her something, like I’m paying her for her silence.

  I scan the headlines of the paper quickly. As expected, the top story is a report of our wedding. Prince Edward finally ties the knot is printed above a large black-and-white picture that shows me clutching Edward’s arm, right on top of the stairs. The wheels of our carriage are shown on the bottom left-hand side of the photo. I must say, the quality of the picture is better than I expected for a country that doesn’t have electricity. Another photo shows a close-up of me, which is actually quite flattering. My skin is smooth and blemish-free, thanks to the lotion I’ve been using to get rid of my freckles. Were it a picture of my seventeen-year-old self, I honestly think the people wouldn’t be happy having a gawky, nerdish girl on the cover.

  I scan the page until I find the text that I’m needing. After the private ceremony was performed in the palace’s Red Room, the Prince and Princess journeyed from the palace to St. James Cathedral in a golden carriage pulled by four white horses.

  St. James Cathedral. So, that’s where the wedding was held. I wonder how far it is from the palace. If Edward and I needed a carriage to get there, it can’t be inside the palace. There’s also an article that mentions I fainted right after the ceremony is performed, but luckily, it’s only a couple of paragraphs. Maybe the royal family has some influence on the press.

  I fold up the paper and tuck it inside a drawer. All I have to do is get to the wedding chapel and find out if there is some route I can use to get back to Portland.

  * * *

  On my way to the courtyard, I run into the chamberlain. According to Edward, the chamberlain is in charge of the royal household—something like the monarchy’s equivalent to a butler. He was the same person who poured wine and carved the pot roast during dinner. And he also happens to be the brother of Madame Dubois, the etiquette mistress who once instructed me in court manners and princess behavior when I moved into the palace nine months ago.

  “Good morning, Your Highness!” The chamberlain bows, then glances around me, as though expecting somebody else behind me. “How are you settling into your official role?”

  Terribly, modern world Kat would say.

  “I’m fine. Thank you for your consideration.” This is what an Athelian princess would say. At the moment, I’m grateful that Edward took the time to teach me how to ‘behave’ properly.

  “May I inquire why you are unaccompanied at this moment?”

  Am I supposed to go everywhere with a servant in tow? “I would like to go out for a short drive. My limbs are stiff from sitting too long.”

  “If you do not have a particular objective in mind, I highly recommend a stroll in the garden instead, Your Highness. Surely there is no need to go out alone.” The way he said ‘alone’ makes it sound like I’m doing something taboo. “A woman’s place is at her husband’s side.”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Edward is too busy to join me. Please don’t look so alarmed, Monsieur Dubois.”

  I ignore his disapproving glare, find an empty carriage, and tell the coachman to drive me to St. James Cathedral. Geez. If being a princess means that I can’t even go out on my own, then I sure don’t want to be shackled to this place.

  * * *

  St. James Cathedral is only about ten minutes’ drive, thank God. Now that I have time to take a good look at it, I’m impressed. Besides being ridiculously large, most of the walls are decorated with ornate carvings. My head could go dizzy from counting the number of roses wrought over the entrance.

  But I have no time to admire the stunning architecture around me. I have to look for the small room I woke up in, which is pretty hard to find in a cathedral this large, so I rack my brains trying to figure out where it could be. I’m in the nave with arched ceilings and colorful stained-glass windows, where Edward brought me to see the king and queen. I recognize the rows of seats where the guests were sitting. We didn’t go through other rooms or pass any corridor, so I’m guessing it should be one of the doors on either side of the nave.

  I have no choice but to find out myself. Trying to act as inconspicuously as possible, I open the doors one by one.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Someone says.

  Like a child caught red-handed, I whirl around and find myself facing a middle-aged man wearing long, dark robes. One of the priests who work here, I suppose.

  “I beg your pardon,” I say, managing what I hope is a disarming smile. “I . . . I think I left my wedding ring here. It’s kind of costly, and I just thought if I came here. . .”

  He squints at me, and recognition dawns on his face. “Princess Katriona?”

  I nod. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to trespass. All I want is to find my ring.”

  “Prince Edward had ordered to have the place searched thoroughly.” The priest shakes his head slowly. “I understand that you are unhappy about losing the ring, but I’m afraid that someone already got it. We clean the chapel quite regularly, I assure you. It would have turned up if someone did not steal it.”

  “I understand, but I would still like to try.”

  The priest shrugs but tells me to go ahead. He’s thinking that I’m wasting my time. But the ring is the least of my concerns.

  I make sure the priest has disappeared around the corner before continuing my search. I search for the small, hospital-like room, and then on the third door to the right, I think I’ve found it. There’s a small cot lying in the corner, the blanket as flimsy as I remember. I take off my white kid gloves because my palms are getting sweaty. Can I really succeed? Is it possible that I can find a way to get home through where I came from? Claire arrived in eighteenth-century Scotland through the ancient stone circle in Outlander, and that was how she got back.

  I run my hands over the white-washed walls, feeling kind of idiotic but still praying with al
l my might that some magic spell would be triggered and that yellow-green glow would engulf me and take me back.

  Please, I beg in my mind. Please, open up the portal and let me go home.

  Nothing happens. I’ve practically wiped all four walls with my hands—will the priests be surprised that the walls of this room barely need any dusting?—and I’m still staring stupidly at the empty cot.

  Maybe this is the wrong room. I try the one next door, and the next, but all I get is a pair of dusty hands.

  I should have known. What happened in Outlander doesn’t apply here. I’m just wasting my time and making myself look a fool. I thought I could find a way out, but apparently, my wish is for naught. I’m an idiot for believing that what happened in Outlander could work the same here.

  I stumble into the nave and sink on one of the benches, my heart as heavy as the stone pillars lining the sides. Unless Krev appears now, I’m going to miss my sister’s graduation. I’m going to miss the chance to introduce Jason to my family. And if Krev never shows up . . .

  I sniff and reach for a handkerchief. It’s so hard not to burst into tears, but even in my despondent mood, I can’t cry in public.

  I don’t know how long I’ve sat there until the people who point and stare and whisper get on my nerves.

  So, I head back to the palace. As the carriage rolls along, I prop an elbow on the window and try to think of something positive.

  There’s still hope, I reason in my mind. Krev did say he’d come back for me. He seemed serious about getting me back to America. If only Edward hadn’t stopped me . . .

  I curl my fingers in my skirts, feeling frustrated. If it weren’t for my royal husband, I wouldn’t be stuck in this strange world with all these problems, none of which I seem to have any chance of solving.

  15