Once Upon A [Fallen] Time

by Samreen Ahsan

  “I would like to have this one,” I pointed at the small loaf.

  He shot a quick glance at Edward before looking at me again. “I have something special for the Mademoiselle, if you allow me. I will bring it right from the oven.”

  “Okay.” I gave him a cheery smile. “Let’s see what specialty you have.”

  He went inside his shop and returned a moment later with some piping hot brioche bread on a wooden plate.

  “Wow! It looks delicious,” I said, my mouth watering at the sight.

  He sliced the warm bread professionally, but his movements were shaky and stilted. Edward’s presence was clearly making him nervous. After wrapping the bread in a muslin cloth, he handed it to me.

  “Do you have some butter?” I asked.

  “My wife prepares delicious butter,” he replied. He was probably wondering what I was doing in the village, asking for bread, considering I was with the prince?

  “There is butter with salt and there is one with sugar. We also make one with parsley,” he explained, as he placed the variety of butter on the table.

  “I’d like the sweet butter, please,” I replied. I was craving sugar since I had been badly bitten by a sour man behind me. “I already had too much bitterness last night.” I threw a hostile glance at Edward. He straightened but didn’t say anything in return. I unclothed the bread and placed it in front of the baker. “If you could just put some butter on top of the bread.” The man did as asked. He used his bare hands to hold the loaf. Indeed, there was no concept of spreading germs in this age. I ignored his unhealthy act—I would have to ignore all of it if I had to live with Edward. This was not Paula’s café where you were asked to wear plastic gloves when holding some edible item.

  I picked up the bread and looked at the baker. “How much?”

  “I beg your pardon?” he replied with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

  “How much do I have to pay you for the bread and butter?” I asked again. He glanced at Edward, who was still observing the scene without getting involved.

  “You’re with His Highness, Mademoiselle.” The baker cleared his throat.

  “So?” I asked. “I still need to pay you.”

  “But, Mademoiselle…”

  “If you had sold it to someone else, you’d have asked for money. And I know this bread has cost you,” I said. But then, I realized I didn’t have my wallet. I turned to Edward. “Edward, can you please pay this man?”

  Edward looked at me like I’d grown a second head. What was going on with these people?

  “It’s all right, Mademoiselle, it is just a couple of pence.” The baker looked apologetic. Had I missed something? I looked from man to man, back and forth. Had Edward never bought anything from the market or not paid anyone here? Or had the entire Hue family never paid anyone for anything?

  Think smart, Myra. You’re dealing with the royal family and an ordinary peasant here. Why would royals pay the peasants? It had always been the other way around.

  I placed the bread back on the counter. “Then I’m not buying the bread.”

  Fear stole the colour of the baker’s skin.

  “Please, Mademoiselle, you must keep it.” Though he was talking to me, he was looking at Edward. He was probably afraid of enraging Edward and the consequences.

  Edward sighed and untied another black pouch from his leather belt. How many pouches did he carry? I watched him take two gold coins out of the pouch.

  “Will that be enough?” Edward placed the coins on the table. “I’m afraid I’m not carrying pence at the moment.”

  “They are a fortune, Your Highness.” The baker’s eyes shone with excitement. He picked up the coins from the table, looked at me, and bowed once more. “Thank you, Mademoiselle, I hope you enjoy the bread.” His smile and colour returned.

  “My pleasure.” I smiled in return and followed Edward who’d started walking down the street. I took a bite of the bread and closed my eyes, stopping right there in the middle of the road. “Mmm…” When I opened my eyes again, I noticed Edward staring at me. “It’s heavenly, Edward. You must try it.” I offered him the bread, but he didn’t show any reaction—as if he had turned into stone once again. “I know you have not eaten much either. There’s no harm in eating outside the royal castle.” I chuckled. “You’re not going to get more cursed here.”

  His eyes narrowed instantly.

  Shit!

  I shouldn’t have said it.

  The bread in my mouth got stuck in my throat. “I’m sorry.” I looked down. When would I learn to shut up? This mouth of mine would surely ruin me one day. I would have to train myself to stay mute in situations like this.

  When Edward didn’t say anything, I walked past him quietly. I passed shops, where people were selling everyday items—meat, spices, bread, fruits, vegetables, clothes, and... flowers. People were inviting the crowd passing by but as soon as the shopkeepers noticed Edward, they turned into stone. Edward felt the same change because I could see he was uncomfortable. He knew he was making everyone conscious. No one from the Hue bloodline had ever visited this medieval market. Perhaps, Edward was the first one to break the rule. I wondered what had happened to this town in the later timeline, because I had not heard of this place in the twenty-first century.

  I stopped by the florist just as I was finishing my bread. The shop displayed beautiful flowers of every colour. I carefully touched the white roses. They looked so divine. Edward watched the flowers with awe but he looked nervous because he avoided meeting my gaze. I kept forgetting he could not even touch the flowers. The curse would make them wither right away. But I was determined to bring these flowers inside his room. I wanted to see if they’d survive when they were brought from the outside world. Or would the confinements of the cursed castle kill them straight away? But then how would the lilacs in my hair have survived my night at Hue Castle? And was a simple touch from Edward really enough to wither flowers? I had never seen flowers die in someone’s hand. Was it a myth or the truth?

  I decided not to get the white roses. Instead, I asked the man. “Do you have lilac seeds?”

  He looked at Edward first—the dread on his face mirroring Edward’s expression. Did everyone in the kingdom know that the Hue bloodline was cursed with nature and that no one was capable of growing flowers inside Hue Castle?

  “Spring is almost over, Your Grace. I can fetch you fresh lilacs. We have the same ones as in your hair.”

  I smiled at him. I loved the fragrance of this flower. Most people like roses, but I had always preferred lilacs and lavenders—I loved their purple hues.

  “I’ll take a bunch then.” Who would have thought I’d ever shop bread and flowers in a medieval town with the future king of England? My heart fluttered with joy thinking where my life had led me. Edward didn’t look thrilled but still placed two gold coins on the florist’s table. This time, however, he didn’t give the seller a chance to thank him. Instead, he moved past me and walked ahead. I picked up the flowers and followed him quietly. Edward didn’t stop at any shop—he just walked in the opposite direction, where he had left his horse. I respected his limitation. I must understand he was supposedly the future king of England and I was treating him like I’d treated Steve.

  Steve—I stopped in my tracks. I hadn’t thought about him since last night. What had the poor guy been going through since I’d vanished through the mirror? My parents were surely looking for me. What had Steve told them about my disappearance? Would they trust him if he told them the truth? He had been the only one to actually believe that I had been talking to Edward, but I was also aware of his feelings for me. Our relationship had started like a typically arranged marriage set-up, but I knew Steve had fallen in love with me later on. When he had confessed his feelings for me in Morocco and when he had brought me to Hue Castle yesterday—on the day of our engagement party, no less—he had made me feel awful. All he had wanted was for me to forget Edward and to move on and I knew that had I never met
Edward and married Steve, I’d only have remembered Edward as a sweet memory after a few years. I would have been busy raising Steve’s children, and keeping up with his lavish lifestyle. I knew Steve would have made me happy because my presence enthralled him. Through me, he was able to film inside Hue Castle and make his dream come true. I’d never know why and how my presence made every camera work inside the castle, and I was sure Steve would never be able to find out the answer either. But I was truly honoured to have a friend like him in the form of my fiancée when no one believed me. My mother knew I longed for Edward but she had always considered it to merely be a product of my wild fantasy.

  I shook my head and watched Edward walking along the road.

  He is not my fantasy, Mom. He’s real.

  When Edward turned around, his intense gaze fell on me, as if he could listen to my silence. I wished my mother would have believed me that this man truly existed. I wasn’t dreaming. This was all real, and even if it were a dream—no matter how rude and insensitive Edward was to me—I still wanted to stay close to him. One day had almost passed, and he had not disappeared yet. I had made him stay. I had changed the entire history of Edward Hue.

  He looked at the flowers in my hand and his gaze travelled over me from head to toe. I could feel the sensation from every part of my body. I loved the way his eyes were touching and kissing my body but damn him! Could he ever tell the truth from his mouth as his eyes did?

  But then his expression darkened as he knitted his eyebrows and took a deep breath. He was looking at something behind me. I followed his gaze and turned around. It was his niece, Emma, with her aunt and cousins. I looked back at Edward who had turned around and walked ahead. He was clearly trying to avoid Emma. Perhaps he didn’t have the strength to face the child’s indifference. She was a beautiful seven-year-old girl who was hopping along happily with her twin cousins. Once she got closer to me, I noticed that her breath sounded shallower than her cousins’. I couldn’t contain my concern so I stopped in front of them, acting clueless.

  “Is this your child?” I asked Emma’s aunt to start the conversation.

  The way the woman’s expression changed when she looked past me, I guessed she had caught sight of Edward.

  “She’s my niece,” the woman named Heather replied without any emotion in her voice. I bent down and offered the flowers to Emma. She looked up at her aunt. “She has a breathing problem. Flowers make her sick.” I was shocked. Was the little one cursed too or was she allergic? I ran my hand over Emma’s head. “What a lovely child. What’s your name, princess?” I smiled at her.

  “I am not a princess,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with anger. “My mother was a princess though,” she stretched her arm and pointed straight ahead, “and he killed my mother.” I drew in a deep breath. I didn’t dare to check if Edward had heard her outburst. There was no way I could deal with his pained expression. The way Emma looked at Edward—it was dipped in animosity. The child completely despised Edward, there was no doubt about it.

  I placed the flowers on the ground and smiled at Emma. I held both of her hands. “He didn’t kill your mother.”

  “How do you know?” she shot back.

  “Because your Uncle Edward cannot harm anyone.” I turned around and saw Edward holding his breath. He did listen! “He doesn’t have that bone to hurt anyone.” I turned my head back towards Emma and smiled. “You are his princess and he has loved you most in this world.” I caressed her soft cheeks. “And since you’re truly a princess, why don’t you forgive your Uncle Edward?”

  I waited for her answer, but the child was too young to understand the complexities of life. She jerked her hands out of my grip, threw one more hateful look at Edward, and ran away. Her aunt ran after Emma without saying another word, and the cousins followed their mother blindly.

  How miserable Edward must feel every day. Living in a curse was much simpler than your child hating you for eternity. It was the worst thing that could ever happen to a parent—and apparently, Edward was the only parent Emma could ever have since Veronica had made him promise to take care of Emma like a father.

  I stayed on the cobblestone ground, my knees bent. I had no strength to get up and walk towards him—no words to comfort him. Edward stood motionless, waiting for me. He didn’t even budge. No emotion washed over his face. It was true that he was made of cold stone—and even Emma’s hatred didn’t affect him anymore. But I could feel his heart was weeping. He would not show his emotion. It seemed like he had resigned to living with Emma’s rejection. I knew how much he loved the child, but if Emma continued hating Edward like this, there would be no hope in his life. I had to give him hope to linger on. Otherwise, it would ruin both of us. I didn’t know the way to go back to my life, but even if I did—I’d rather live with Edward and help him out of the darkness. If I truly loved him then it was my test too. I had to bring Edward under light even if it turned him blind. Emma’s approval was so significant in Edward’s life. She was the colour he could paint his life with. I knew he wouldn’t care if he remained cursed all his life—all he wanted was the atonement for a sin he hadn’t even committed. He needed to get rid of the guilt that he’d killed his sister and couldn’t honour her very last promise. It seemed like Emma was the only weapon which would allow me to break the tomb he had built around him. I had to bring this child back into Edward’s life—but how? I didn’t know. Maybe time would bring all the answers.

  I took a deep breath and picked up the flowers. When Edward noticed me coming towards him, he walked back to Ulysses. I followed him quietly. He didn’t offer to lift me up. It seemed like it would be a long walk back to the Hue Castle.

  “Some things are destined to be

  ― it just takes us a couple of tries

  to get there.”

  ― J.R. Ward

  CHAPTER 8

  STEVE

  JUNE 12th 2015

  “I will not leave unless you tell me everything,” I barked, as I sat in front of Bakr, who was busy working on his desk, his glasses perched on his nose. I had been lucky to be able to use our family’s private aircraft, which had taken me to Casablanca in just a few hours. Indeed, money could buy anything. Except her!

  And here I was—at the old Marak bookstore near Casablanca I had once taken Myra to. I had asked Tyler to accompany me while I’d convinced Julia Watson and the Farrows to stay behind at the hotel. It was better if I met the old man without an unnecessary crowd.

  I was sitting at the same table where Myra had read Edward’s book. Bakr had warned her not to look at the people inside the book, because there would be no point of return. Had he been telling the truth?

  “Mr Bernard,” the old man said in his Arabic accent, his gaze meeting mine, “you’re going to have to dig really deep. It’s not what you think.”

  “Just tell me where she is?” I slammed my hands on the table.

  “Easy, Mr Bernard. She is fine.” This information curbed my temper. He had no idea what I was going through. There were two hundred fucking million dollars stuck in my throat and if I didn’t bring Myra back, my career and company were ruined completely.

  His response took some of the wind out of my sails.

  “You know where she is exactly?” I asked.

  “Don’t you know where she is?” His smile reminded me of the devil.

  “Please, Mr Bakr, you have no idea how worried her parents are.”

  “It was her own will to go to Edward, Mr Bernard. Tell her parents it’s where she’s always belonged.”

  “She belongs to me!” I raised my voice, “She is my fiancée, and let me tell you this very straight, Bakr, I am not going to be a villain in this story. She is mine, and that asshole has to leave her. I am the hero in this story.”

  He smiled. “There is always one hero in a love story, Mr Bernard. Your fiancée has apparently chosen him—”

  “I don’t care what she chooses, it will still be me.” I ran my hand on my face. I felt so ex
hausted and worn out right now. Since her disappearance, I had not slept at all. She had to come back. “I’m not going to leave this place before you tell me everything. How was it even possible?” Tyler placed his hand on my shoulder to reassure me and calm me down.

  Bakr sighed. “It’s a long story, Mr Bernard.”

  “I’m not in a hurry,” I replied, leaning back.

  He observed me for a few heartbeats, perhaps reading my eagerness, and rested against the back of the chair.

  “You should know that time is the most critical and most innovative measure God has ever created. It evolves rapidly every moment.” Tyler and I listened to him intently. “Each time that passes goes into another dimension. This is one dimension. Edward’s world is another dimension.” I stiffened at the mention of the ghost’s name. “I know you think of him as a ghost but he still exists, Mr Bernard. Everything that has happened in this world is interconnected to each other but kept in separate dimensions—still unknown and non-existent to us. Apparently, Miss Farrow had the power to travel to another dimension.” He continued, “Science observes time differently—an indefinite, infinite progress of existence and events in the past, present and future—according to Wikipedia—a non-spatial continuum but…” he looked around, “in our world of sorcery… we take time as a whole sphere… every event interconnected and dependent on each other but still compartmentalized in sub-spheres. Since they are all connected, your every action in the past will affect your present and future.” He moved slightly forward in his chair and clasped his hands, resting them on the table. “In Science, they say whatever happened in the past remains in the past, but in our world of sorcery—we dig deeper.” He stood up and walked about the room. “When people die… we don’t see them anymore. You know why?”

  I looked at him with a blank face.

  “Because they move to another dimension. Usually, we call it purgatory where souls are kept in a timeless sphere. And that dimension is not visible to humans but… you may have heard stories of people who died clinically and then returned—they even claim they met people who had died long ago. How did it happen?” He smiled. “That’s because they travelled into that dimension for a limited time.”