by Aya Ling
So, he wasn’t leering at me, but rather that I resemble some other girl he saw in Moryn. It’s not a big deal, I guess. I came to inhabit Katriona Bradshaw’s body because we look alike, so it won’t surprise me if there’s another girl who also shares similar features. If I were a rare beauty like Bianca . . . well, that would be another story.
And from what I could observe of the Moryns, their features are not much different from the Athenians. Maybe a little shorter, may be a little plumper, and their fashion sense seems to be more extravagant, but I can’t observe much difference between the Moryns and the Athelians.
I just hope that Jérôme isn’t making things up to excuse his conduct.
27
On the last day of events, Amelie pauses before lacing me into the corset.
“Would you like to go to the bathroom, Your Highness?”
“Why are you asking me as if I’m not going to see a bathroom again?”
“Because you won’t get to change clothes for at least six to seven hours,” Mabel pipes up, bringing in my shoes. They’re beautiful—sheer, sparkling satin the color of rose petals. “There’s the concert and the ball, and you can’t relieve yourself while wearing this dress.”
I touch the whalebone corset and the crinoline that’s supposed to go under my skirt. They are stiff, hard, and unbendable, like a cage.
“She is correct,” Amelie says, inspecting the laces on the corset. “Don’t drink anything or eat anything, not until the end of the ball, which is likely to be past midnight.”
“Are you telling me that I’m supposed to whirl around in all these layers on an empty stomach?”
Mabel looks surprised. “But aren’t you used to this by now, Your Highness? You had to go through tons of balls during your Season.”
When I was still an unmarried, unwanted maid at Lady Bradshaw’s, I mostly sat in a corner and watched other men vying for a dance with Bianca. However, as princess, it’s unlikely that I’ll be left alone. Protocol ensures that I’ll at least have Edward, and maybe even the emperor, ask me to dance. Augustin may not be a beloved ruler in his country, but he’s flawless when it comes to international etiquette. For example, during the military review, despite the commotion and whirlwind action, he still found the occasion to gallop near our carriage and make some kind of lighthearted comment.
Please, I pray with all my might. Please let me get through this ball without any mishap.
* * *
A powerful electric-like jolt rocks through my head when I enter the ballroom, and for a moment my vision swims. It’s the same room where the ball was held in The Ugly Stepsister. Memories inundate my mind like a flash flood, and I start to remember all the things that I have done here, from waltzing with Edward to revealing Elle’s real identity. It takes all my willpower not to clap my hands on my temples, as there are so many memories attacking my mind that I’m unable to concentrate on dancing.
“Kat?” Edward touches my arm. “Are you feeling all right?”
“I . . .” I lean against his shoulder, not caring if it’s inappropriate in public. All I want is for my head to stop hurting from the deluge of memories. “Just let me rest for a moment.”
The king is dancing with Simone, which is a difficult task, as Simone’s height only comes to his chest. It looks like he is dancing with his teenage daughter. On the other hand, Augustin seems to be faring better with the queen, both of them graceful and agile in their steps.
I glance around the ballroom. Jérôme is dancing with a young debutante called Minnie May—she looks positively thrilled to be his partner, though another middle-aged woman is eyeing them with a wary face that’s remarkably similar to Edward’s when we went to Fauxe Gardens last night. Most likely that she is Minnie May’s mother, and has heard of Jérôme’s profligacy.
In a corner, Henry is conversing with a middle-aged man who’s wearing spectacles. Several paces away, Lady Petunia stands with her arms crossed, her expression filled with annoyance as she glares at her son.
“That’s Sir Durant, who serves as Augustin’s imperial physician,” Edward says.
“The doctor that Henry idolizes? The duchess doesn’t seem to like it.”
Edward shrugs. “As I told you, she is disapproving when it comes to Henry’s interest in medical studies. Instead of dancing with a potential bride-to-be, he chose to socialize with a physician. It’s of little importance to her that said physician is a celebrity in his field.”
Personally, I’m glad that Durant is here. Elle was invited to this ball at my insistence, but she couldn’t attend due to a sudden letter from the earl’s estate. Something about a conflict between the tenant farmers, and as the heiress of the earl’s lands, it is her duty to return and resolve the problem. Such a pity. I know that she would have loved to dance with Henry at this ball.
Footsteps approach. The Moryn emperor, looking quite distinguished in his long, dark waistcoat, makes me a low bow.
“Would you favor me with the next dance, my dear Princess Katriona?”
Edward gives me a concerned look, but he doesn’t say anything. Unless I’m on the verge of fainting, it’s imperative that I accept the emperor’s request.
Luckily, the assault of memories in my head has faded into a dull ache. “I would be delighted, Your Majesty.” I do my best to look gratified, as if dancing with him is the highest honor a lady could expect.
Augustin takes my hand, and off we go. To tell the truth, I’m really nervous about dancing with the emperor, but all I can do is pray that the orchestra won’t play some really fast song that I can’t keep up with. I’m also thankful that Edward chose to teach me how to dance in his garden. I don’t think I could have survived this ball if I forgot the steps.
I’m in luck again. The song is a slow waltz, which means I can actually talk to him while keeping step to the music.
“Simone told me that Jérôme has been casting sheep-eyes in your direction,” Augustin says with an apologetic look. “My deepest apologies if my brother has caused you any discomfort, Princess Katriona. I’ve already issued him a stern warning to strictly adhere to your customs. What he felt was harmless interaction could be regarded as wanton flirting in Athelia.”
To be honest, Jérôme hasn’t done anything truly offensive. The most he did was stare at me curiously—which, combined with his reputation and Edward’s sensitive nature, made my husband concerned.
“Jérôme didn’t behave inappropriately,” I assure Augustin. “There were a few times he did stare at me, but he told me it was because I reminded him of another girl in Moryn.”
Augustin frowns. “Let’s hope that he is being truthful. I admit that I would not be surprised that Jérôme would meet a woman that resembles you, since his female acquaintances are too numerous to keep track of.”
“I think it’s likely as well.” I smile. “Your brother is unlikely to desire the wrath of my husband.”
Augustin laughs and twirls me around. He is not classically handsome like Edward, but there is a smooth, suave charm in him that might have attracted Simone, apart from his being emperor.
“Last time I visited Athelia was two years ago,” Augustin says easily. “Edward was not yet twenty, but already, people were expecting that he take a bride. His parents even asked me if there was any suitable candidate in Moryn that I might recommend. However, when I talked to him, it seemed he was in no rush to marry. In fact, he seemed to be weary of women. ‘They’re all the same,’ he had told me. But apparently, you convinced him to change his mind.”
I blush, unable to think of a reply. I can’t very well tell him that I’m not ‘the same’ because I’m from another world.
As the song draws to an end, Augustin gives me another magnificent bow and kisses my hand. “It has been a pleasure dancing with you, Princess Katriona. I hope that you and your husband will grace us with your presence next year, when Simone and I are to be married.”
When Augustin walks away and offers his arm to Lady C
onstance, the wife of Edward’s eldest cousin, I reflect that the Moryn emperor has been nothing but a model of perfect behavior. However, the way he treats us must be very different from the way he treats his people; otherwise there wouldn’t be the uprising, or the several people holding ‘Down with the Dictator’ signs when Augustin arrived.
I dance with a Moryn noble for the next song, which happens to be the same tune that was playing at Edward’s ball. I can feel the deluge of memories hammering on the barrier in my brain, threatening to break it down. The barrier already feels like a bullet-ridden wall, swaying, and it will fall any time.
“Are you all right, Your Highness? You look very pale.”
I dig my fingernails into my palm. “I’m fine,” I say, smiling at my partner. “It must be the stuffiness in this room.”
Amelie was right to advise me to go to the bathroom before dressing. I wonder how the other women can stand whirling over the dance floor with a tight corset and an empty stomach.
After I dance with a few other noblemen, I start coughing. It feels like the oxygen in the room has evaporated, and I cannot breathe normally.
“May I have the next dance with you, Princess Katriona?” someone—is it Lord Winston, or is it Fretwell?—is asking me.
“I’m sorry,” I say thickly, trying to appear normal. “I . . . I’m a little tired after all the dancing. Please allow me to rest for a while.”
Not feeling like being waylaid again, I stumble outside into the gardens. The cool, fragrant air surrounds me, and I inhale deeply. The ballroom is way too hot and stuffy. I take another deep breath, wondering how long it’ll take before I can get out of this stifling outfit.
“Katriona?”
A dark shadow falls across my path. Although it’s nighttime, the gardens are brightly lit with dozens of lanterns, so I’m able to make out the person who interrupted my solitude. It’s Bianca, tall and slender, in an elegant turquoise gown lined with pearls and diamonds. She looks like she could shoot a commercial for Chanel.
“Katriona.” Her words are cutting, cold, and there’s no trace of politeness on her face. Without others nearby, she doesn’t bother to keep up appearances.
I’d love to get away from her, but it looks like she wants to talk to me. I straighten my spine and tell myself I have nothing to fear. I am the princess, and my social ranking is far higher than hers. She won’t intimidate me, and I won’t be intimidated.
“Yes?”
“It should be me receiving the Moryns,” she hisses. “Don’t you know how drab you look compared to the emperor’s fiancée? I never knew you could be this sneaky. You wanted to be princess and tried to imitate me, but knowing you could never succeed, you turned to shady methods.”
I stare at her. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“We both know you don’t have a chance of attracting a man higher-ranked than an earl, not to mention the prince. You may have tricked Edward into marrying you, but how long do you think your seduction spell will work on him?”
“A seduction spell?” I raise an eyebrow. “God, Bianca, do you honestly believe that I caught Edward’s attention because of some stupid spell? Have you even seen him beyond his good looks and social standing, and learned that he isn’t the type who is drawn by looks alone? If he were, he would have proposed to you long ago.”
Cold fury radiates from Bianca. “How dare you criticize me? You, whom nobody bothered to spare a glance toward?”
I probably shouldn’t have taunted her, but her attitude got on my nerves. “So what if I was overlooked? I’m the one who married the prince.”
“You despicable . . .” Bianca raises a hand, a murderous gleam in her eyes. I step backward, alarmed and surprised at the possibility that she wants to attack me. Not that I’m afraid. Bianca may be taller, but I doubt any lady lessons in Athelia would include karate.
We stare at each other for a moment. Bianca breathes heavily, but she lowers her hand.
“I’m warning you, Katriona, don’t think you can get away with your schemes. One day, I’ll make you regret stealing what was mine.”
I’m about to retort that she has no claim on Edward, but she’s already turned on her heel and stalked away.
Frustrated and furious, I quell the temptation to hurl a stone at her retreating back. I hate her. I don’t know how Elle could have tolerated her and Lady Bradshaw. And I’m so glad that I didn’t let her get Edward.
Speaking of my husband, there seems to be an uncanny connection between us. Only a few minutes after Bianca left, Edward appears, his brow furrowed.
“Kat? Why did you leave the dance?”
I tell him about feeling stifled and uncomfortable.
“Perhaps you’d better sit down and get some rest.” He looks concerned. “I remember when we used to practice dancing, you’d be out of breath quite soon.”
I shouldn’t be this weak. I’m only twenty-four, and I’ve been in pretty good shape since I joined the karate club. “I hope that the guests won’t miss me.”
“They’re having a fine time dancing,” he says, guiding me to a bench among the hedges. As I walk, something snaps, and the slipper on my right foot comes off.
“Dang.” I lift my skirts to look for my slipper, but Edward instantly yanks my hand away.
“What are you doing? You should never expose your feet in public.”
I resist the temptation to roll my eyes. There’s no one around, I’m wearing black silk stockings, and I didn’t raise my skirt anywhere above my knees.
“You didn’t mind seeing my bare feet when I met you in the gardens on the day of my presentation.”
He has the grace to look guilty. He also overlooked the rules when I fell down the stairs in Henry’s house and landed in his arms. If he truly cared about propriety, he wouldn’t have prevented me from trying to get up.
“My slipper seems to have fallen off.”
Alarmed, he kneels down before me. “Let me have a look.”
He examines the slipper with disapproval in his face. “I am no expert in women’s fashion, but this type of shoe is not fit for dancing. The sole is too thin, and the straps are too flimsy to keep the soles attached. I can tie the straps back, but they are likely to break off again when you dance. Speak to Amelie and tell her not to order any more shoes like these.”
I glance at him cradling my ankle, intent on tying the straps into place, and the strongest memory I’ve ever had hits me with the force of a charging T-rex. I know that he has done this before. He was bent over my foot, his hands gentle, treating my foot as though it were the most exquisite crystal goblet they serve at dinner.
It feels like something goes pop in my head, and I shut my eyes for a second, massaging my temples. When the pain gradually abates, I open my eyes and feel like a new person, like I have done meditation in some remote mountain and emerged with a completely different mindset. This gesture of Edward’s is the last straw that broke the camel’s back. The barrier that prevented me from accessing my memories is completely toppled. Every single thing I’ve done in Athelia, every moment I’ve spent with Edward, flips through my mind like a slideshow that never ends.
Tears start to course down my cheeks. Oh, God, how horribly did I treat Edward! Edward, who thought I’d be lost to him forever, and is now desperately trying to keep me at his side. I had known the reasons he wanted me to stay. I had felt sorry for him, but now, with every detail of our past crystal-clear in my head . . . it is now that I can truly put myself in his shoes and fully realize how my initial rejection and hesitation must have hurt him.
“Edward,” I gasp.
He looks up at me, puzzled. “Was the binding too tight?”
“No . . . oh, Edward, I’m so, so sorry.”
I fling my arms around his neck and bury my face in his shoulder.
“Kat?” he says rather awkwardly. “Will you tell me what happened?”
I shake my head, still unable to stop the tears. Tightening my arms around his waist, I wish I
could turn back time and save him these weeks of pain.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Again, I shake my head. His gentleness, under normal circumstances, may be soothing, but now, it only makes me sob harder.
“I . . .” I hiccup. “I’m sorry, Edward. I’m so, so sorry . . .”
He seems to understand, even though I didn’t tell him anything about my memory returning. He strokes my back and whispers gentle endearments in my ear while I struggle to tamp down my emotions and stop crying.
I take a deep breath, intending to tell Edward that I’ve recovered all my memories, but there’s a tightness in my chest and I feel like I can’t breathe. Then everything goes black and I slump against him.
28
When I open my eyes, I’m lying in bed, and Edward is staring at me with a worried look in his eyes. When I let out a noise of frustration, he immediately sits up and comes to my side.
“Kat! Finally you are awake.”
Another man approaches me from the other side. It’s Dr. Jensen.
“Your Highness.” He bows slightly. “Due to the unfortunate fall, I would ask that you allow me to examine you.”
He performs a checkup on me, taking my pulse and asking me questions, but when it’s over, he draws his eyebrows and tells me he cannot find fault with my body.
“Perhaps your gown was too tight and you spent too much time dancing with so many people around,” Dr. Jensen finally says.
Edward looks alarmed. “I’ll order the maids to re-adjust her clothes right away.”
Dr. Jensen nods, but he doesn’t budge from his chair. He stares at me as though I am a mystery he cannot fathom.
“My apologies for the sudden request, but I wanted this opportunity since we’re all frightfully busy,” Dr. Jensen says. “It has been nearly three months since the wedding. Have you not shown any signs of pregnancy?”
I think my jaw hit my collarbone. Okay, so that is kind of extreme, but geez, Dr. Jensen sure doesn’t beat around the bush.