Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales #3)(2)
“And what’s with the ring on your finger?”
I automatically hold up my right hand. My fourth finger is bare. “My wedding ring! Where did you put it away?”
Busted. Paige jumps up and grabs my wrists. “Oh my god, so you did get married! Kat, what happened to you? When did you marry? Is Edward your husband? Where is he? If he left you…” A murderous gleam appears in my sister’s eyes. She looks like an angel, and her smile can disarm even our crusty old great-aunt in Mexico, but only those in her closest circle know that Paige can be a terror if she wants to be.
I take a deep breath. “Paige…do I look sane to you?”
Paige stares at me like I’ve grown horns. “You’re mental if you’re asking that question. No, seriously, why do you even have to ask?”
“Because I’m afraid you won’t believe me.” I look at her levelly, doing my best to convey that I’m not joking. “Do you remember the book I got in my senior year? The one called The Ugly Stepsister.”
“Of course. You were obsessed with the hero in that book—what’s his name again—oh, it’s Edward.” Paige tilts her head, a suspicious look in her face. “Don’t tell me this has anything to do with the Edward you were calling in your sleep.”
When I don’t say anything, she gasps. “Kat, are you telling me that Edward exists?”
I pull out one of kitchen chairs. It’s easier to talk about serious things when you’re sitting down. “Do you remember how weird it was that I couldn’t remember buying the book? And when we went to the bookstore, the owner couldn’t find another copy of The Ugly Stepsister? There was no publisher information or ISBN. And nothing about it on the Internet.”
“Yeah. But what has this to do with Edward?”
“Because the truth is…I am the protagonist, the ugly stepsister in that book. I am married to the hero, Prince Edward, in the story. I disappeared for eight months because I was in Athelia, the world where the story is set in.”
2
Edward
I don’t want to open my eyes.
Every morning when I wake up, I reach out and my arms meet thin air, reminding me that my wife is no longer at my side. I stare at the empty space for a lengthy period of time, until the chilly air reminds me it’s time to get out of bed.
I didn’t know how painful it would be to lose her. I had believed I could handle myself when she’s gone, but it turned out that my character is not as strong as I hoped. I have grown so used to having Kat around, that when she has truly disappeared, she has taken a piece of me away with her. And the only way I can feel whole again is to encounter her in my dreams. However, without Kat curled up by my side, I have considerable trouble falling asleep; therefore, I commence a daily dose of sleeping pills. There’s a bottle of tablets secreted in my drawer, as I would not want them exposed to the curiosity of the servants. Sometimes I wonder what it’s like if I consume triple the amount prescribed. I could dream of Kat… and never wake up.
My elbow brushes against a pen on the desk and it falls on the floor. No. While an early demise would relieve me of my misery, I cannot neglect my duties and obligations. My privilege, as I’ve always been taught, should not be taken for granted. As long as I accept my role, I must do what is required of me, whether it may be drafting memorandums, sending letters to foreign royals and dignitaries, or reviewing current state of affairs in our nation. Kat would not want me dwell in depression; I must continue her work, such as the Act to establish compulsory education for Athelia’s children. There is also one advantage. A fully engaged schedule allows me to temporarily forget the agony of losing Kat.
I stay in my office as long as possible. Katriona Bradshaw is less likely to follow me here, where I’d be interrupted by the Prime Minister, a member of Parliament, or a diplomat. State affairs do not interest her. Surrounded by numerous books and papers, I make for terrible company. Even Mother avoids visiting me at my office.
Kat’s desk remains in its original state, placed next to mine. I call to memory how she barged into my office, with Bertram trailing behind her, carrying her desk and chair, and told me she was going to assist me with my work, since I wasn’t getting adequate sleep, due to our nightly conversations. She looked so charmingly indignant for my sake, that it was testament to my discipline that I did not make a move on her.
My fingers tighten around my pen. I should remove her desk, but every time I consider calling for Bertram, I cannot bring myself to do it. Even if it brings me pain, I would rather see her empty chair and remember how she sat there, her nose wrinkled as she paused over some essay written in dry prose, and trying hard not to fall asleep. Or her standing up and going through the bookshelf behind us, looking for some information that could be of use. If it were not for the door that has to be left open, I could have wrapped my arms around her and savored the smoothness of her skin.
Focus, my mind issues the command. I have work to do. Leave the indulgence for tonight. If I am fortunate, I might dream of Kat again.
The proposal that Kat drafted for compulsory education lies on her desk. I flip through the pages, trying not to think about the author behind it, and attempt to the best of my abilities to focus on the ideas instead. Last time Kat’s interview of child workers had caused a national sensation. Perhaps, if I could adapt her proposal and write an article about the importance of education, it will draw more attention.