Ever After (Unfinished Fairy Tales #3)(6)
Mom is worried about me, as I’m adamant I wasn’t lying about Athelia. Paige, however, is more understanding. She always thought there was something weird when she Googled the books and nothing came up. Even the most obscure book would have some information online, but she couldn’t find anything on The Ugly Stepsister and Twice Upon A Time. Funny, as my sister is going to medical school and doesn’t believe in anything that can’t be explained by hard science.
While I’m still obsessed with the book, I also understand I can’t wallow in my obsession forever. Edward let me go because he wanted me to live, so I attempt to get back to normal life. I can’t work in Canada, but Paige has found me some freelance jobs online. I copy edit, proofread, and do Spanish translation. Sometimes I’m reminded of the papers I had proofread for Edward and I have to quash the pain that always comes when I think of him. I run errands, I lug groceries from the supermarket, and I also exercise regularly. There’s a small gym where they have karate lessons. But there is one thing I stay away from. Men.
I wrote to Tara one day, asking her how Jason is. I’ve always felt sorry for my ex-boyfriend. He didn’t do anything wrong, but he took all the blame. Because what other explanation could there be for his girlfriend disappearing in his bedroom, and turning up in the same place eight months later? I had tried issuing a written statement that Jason didn’t have anything to do with my disappearance, but the public still regards him with suspicion. Even if I never met Edward, it’s unlikely that we could have gone on with life as before. My disappearance has had an impact on our relationship forever.
“Jason is doing better,” Tara writes. “He passed his PhD. qualifications, and he’s now working on his thesis. Whatever happened to you, Kat? Did you really run off to a small island with that guy you met in sophomore year? Can we meet up in Chicago sometime? You’ve barely said anything when you left the country.”
Guilt stabs my heart when I think about Jason. I will always owe him, even though it isn’t my fault. He’ll get his degree, land a job, and hopefully by that time he’ll have found another girl.
There’s a pinging sound from my laptop, signifying I have another email. I groan. Tons of messages had flooded my mailbox since I was away. Messages that are worried about me, and where I have been to. It has taken me weeks to sort them out (I’ve grown used to categorizing letters at the palace), and answer the ones from friends, assuring them I am fine.
This new message, however, is different. It starts out with a courteous message from Doris, the department secretary from the university I graduated from.
“Dear Katherine, the sender of this email wanted to get in touch with you. I could not give out your email address, but I’m forwarding it to you and you can decide what to do with it. I hope you are well. Yours sincerely.”
The email she forwarded was from someone in the UK, judging from the end of the email address, ac.uk. I frown. Whoever in Britain is trying to reach me? If it’s a reporter, it shouldn’t be from an educational institution.
And then the message shocks me to the core.
“Dear Ms. Wilson, forgive me for reaching out to you in this abrupt manner, but my curiosity got the better of me. When I saw your picture in the news, my interest was piqued. I am a lecturer for history at a university in Wales. I believe I’ve seen the insignia on the gown you were wearing in the photo. I would hazard a guess that during the months you have disappeared, you were in a country called Athelia.
If what I say seems nonsense to you, I apologize for bothering you and please ignore my message. However, if the name of Athelia is familiar to you, I hope that you will take the trouble to reply to me. I shall be greatly interested in learning more of your experience.”
My hand freezes on the mouse. Someone else in my world also knows about Athelia.
4
Edward
I work in my office, doing my best to concentrate on the draft and keeping Kat out of my mind. However, as it is the article about compulsory education, I cannot help thinking of her. How her eyes had shone when she found a place for the girls’ school, and how animated she had talked about the girls finally getting a ‘proper’ education. Those are memories I shall treasure for life.
Brisk footsteps sound behind the door, and my secretary appears. “You have a letter, Your Highness,” he says in respectful tones and hands me the envelope.
“Thank you, George.”
I open the letter. It is from Miss Cavendish, the former headmistress of Princess College. Her message is short but filled with concern.
“I apologize for bothering you, Your Highness. I understand that Princess Katriona has been through a great trial. However, we would like to be informed when she will be ready to resume her patron duties.”
I let the letter flutter from my fingertips. Katriona Bradshaw is unlikely to attend a school meeting at Princess College. Kat had asked Katriona to carry on with her duties, but I highly doubt that woman would have the heart to perform them. I wonder what I should write in return. It is bound to raise suspicion to explain that Kat had suddenly a change of heart, and would no longer be able to participate in the meetings.
As I ponder on how to reply to this letter, footsteps echo outside the door again. I look up, expecting George again, but it is Amelie. She rarely visits me at my office, though since Kat moved in, she has come more frequently, such as to remind Kat of a tailor’s appointment or afternoon tea with my mother.