His Abducted Bride (4 page)

Deciding not to accept his arm, she headed forward, figuring he would hurry to catch up to her. Sure enough, he quickly fell into step beside her.

“You still plan to fight me?” he asked.

“I can’t fight a dream,” she muttered. All she wanted to do was wake up, but no amount of willing it was making it happen.

“How long will you persist in calling this a dream?”

“And what would you call it? A parallel world?”

“Technically, it is a parallel world. It’s a world you created when you wrote your story.”

“I didn’t write my abduction.”

They rounded a corner and came to a hallway with several large holes in the walls that she guessed were meant to be the windows. Curious, she stopped and approached one of them. A valley separated the castle from a forest. She hurried to one of the holes on the opposite side of the hallway and saw more land with a forest beyond it.

“I can’t believe it. It’s exactly the way I pictured it,” she whispered.

“Not only does that forest look like the way you described it, but it’s also enchanted so no one can enter it without my permission…unless they want to risk facing my wrath. You designed it that way.”

“You show no mercy,” she retorted. “Of course, you’d punish anyone who dares to enter it unless you sent them through there to perform some evil deed.”

“I’m only that way because that’s how you wrote me.”

“And now I’m dreaming about you.” What could she expect? She’d been focused on her story so much it was bound to slip into her dreams.

“You’re not dreaming. This is real. I brought you here because you were ready to kill me.”

“Okay. Let’s say you’re right, and this isn’t a dream. Let’s say that you somehow sucked me into my own book. That doesn’t change anything. The book can only end one way.”

“With my death?”

She nodded.

“I won’t die. There’s no reason for me to die.”

“You’re the villain.”

“No, I’m not. You decided I would be the villain and have painted me out to be that way. I’ve been trying to get through to you that I’m not the bad guy you’re making me out to be, but you refuse to listen to me.”

“So you appeared to me in a dream?”

“No. I put you into the story.”

“Why?”

“Because as long as you’re here, you can’t write anything else.”

Sandy shook her head. It had to be a dream. It wasn’t possible for a character from her book to pull her into it. Turning her attention back to the trees in the distance, she rubbed her forehead. When was she going to wake up?

“If you continue to insist on killing me, then I’ll be forced to secure an alliance between our kingdoms,” he said.

Though she knew she wasn’t going to like the answer, she looked at him and asked, “What alliance?”

“Marriage. War won’t erupt between our kingdoms as long as we’re married. Your kingdom will be loyal to me and mine will be loyal to you.”

“And if I refuse to marry you?”

“You can’t.” When she got ready to protest, he pressed his fingers to her lips and added, “You’re in my territory now. I bid my time in your territory, watching in silent frustration as you had me raid villages against my will. I did everything I could to stop you, but all the writer’s blocks and making it difficult for you to write the next scene didn’t work. This is my last resort, and I won’t lose this time. You’re inside the story. That means you can no longer control what I say and do.”

She shoved his fingers aside. “You can’t control what I say or do either.”

“I can if I have to, but I don’t want to. What I’ve done is removed your ability to control me and the other characters. We are now free to do as we wish. A story is at its best when the characters direct it. A good writer understands that.”

“A good character understands that the writer is the one writing the story, and he should do what he’s told.”

“Not if the story is going to be good.”

“My story is good the way it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

She rolled her eyes and headed down the stone corridor in the direction of the banquet hall. He was quick to follow her, something that irritated her since it meant he was going to keep pestering her. If only she could wake up! But she was beginning to suspect that this wasn’t a dream after all, and if that was the case, her character had somehow opened a portal of some sort that connected their worlds. She had no idea how he did it, but there was no other rational explanation to what was going on.

“Will you at least try writing the story my way?” he asked when he caught up to her.

“And what happens in your version?”

“I’m not the monster you make me out to be, Sandy. I can be a strong ally and help you with your kingdom.”

She stopped walking and faced him, hands on her hips. “That’s where you don’t know a thing about writing. Every story needs a conflict. You need to be the villain if the story’s going to have conflict.”

“There can be another source of conflict,” he insisted.

“Really? And what would that be?”

He opened his mouth, paused, and closed it.

“Exactly. Without you in the role as the evil king, there is no conflict and the story falls apart. People don’t read books where everything is good all the time. There needs to be a point of contention. Like it or not, that’s your role.” When he didn’t reply, she added, “I demand you send me back to my world at once.”

“So you can kill me?”

“So I can finish the story.”

“And that means I’ll die.”

She shrugged. “It’s just a book. You’re just a character.”

“You’re wrong. I’m not
just
a character. None of the people in your story are
just
characters. We’re just as real as you.” He took a step toward her, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and determination.

She refused to step back. To show him any weakness would be a mistake. She had to remember this was King Blackheart she was talking to, and he showed no mercy to his enemies. As soon as he detected any chink in her armor, he would use it to his advantage.

“You want conflict?” he asked, his voice low. “I’ll give you conflict. You’re not going anywhere. You’re in my story now. You have no power here. You can’t just write something and make it happen. But I know your knights will be coming to rescue you since their loyalty is still with you.”

She gave him a smug smile. “Is that so? Then I guess you’re limited in what you can do.”

“Not as much as you’d believe. We will form an alliance. Your kingdom with be allies with mine.”

“That will never happen.”

“It will if we marry.”

Her smile faltered. “You can’t marry me. You’re just a character in my book.”

“You’re inside the story, Sandy. I’ve deleted all the work you’ve done except for the very first scene where you set the stage that is the world we live in. So all the villages you had me plunder against my will still stand, and all those people you had me kill are living, including the royal priest who can marry us. Once he sends word to your people that we’re married, your kingdom will be at peace with mine.”

“They’ll know better once I get to them and let them know you forced my hand,” she replied through gritted teeth, hating that he was backing her into a corner.

“Good luck getting to your kingdom.” His smile grew wider and he took a step back from her. “I believe the true conflict in this story now depends on what you do.” He turned and headed back down the corridor only to pause and glance over his shoulder. “Are you still coming to breakfast?”

She glared at him, wishing she could think of something to say to get that triumphant smile off his face but knowing nothing she could say would do the trick. He had her where he wanted her, and he knew it. Unless… A plan forming in her mind, she forced a smile in return and strode over to him. “You know what? I could go for a mocha with a slice of banana nut bread.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “A mocha with what?”

“A mocha with a slice of banana nut bread. It’s one of my favorite breakfasts.”

“We don’t make that here.”

“Figure out how to do it since you’re in control.”

She shot him a pointed look before she strolled down the corridor. There. Let him figure it out. If nothing else, it would prove to him that he didn’t have all the answers and that he was limited in what he could do. It would do him some good to realize there were things in her world that he knew nothing about, too. Feeling much better about her predicament, she continued her walk—with him not far behind—and entered the banquet hall.

“My lord, are you sure this is a wise idea?” Sir Handel asked later that day.

King Gavin Blackheart turned from the window in his planning room as the knight approached him. “There is no other way.”

“And how are you going to convince the priest to perform the marriage ceremony? You know Father Augustine doesn’t like to marry a woman against her will.”

“He’ll do it. If he doesn’t and her troops come to invade us, she might find the way back to her world. If that happens, she will write the story as she wants it, and he dies in that version.”

“Because you kill him.”

“I don’t want to kill him, and as long as I have her trapped here, I won’t. I have no way to stop her if she finds the portal back to her world.”

“You have an excellent point.”

“I doubt he’ll be able to argue it.” But to be on the safe side, maybe he should make it so that she didn’t protest the marriage at all when the priest arrived.

Gavin turned from the window and went to the long round table where he’d unrolled a map of the kingdoms. His gaze went to Havenshire where he ruled. The forest surrounded it from all sides, a forest that was under a spell to keep his people safe.

His gaze traveled north of the Havenshire forest to the North Ocean. Sandy’s kingdom, Crystaline, was situated on the hill with a valley to the south and mountains to the north. Her kingdom had some protection, but it was easier to get there than to get to Havenshire, which worked to his advantage.

To the east and south of Havenshire were two other kingdoms, and to the west was Reinhold, ruled by King Petros who was his very distant relative. He wasn’t sure how they were related, but it was clear that Sandy had plans for King Petros in a sequel. Whatever her plans were, Gavin was determined they’d never happen because he’d have to die in order for her to see those plans through.

“When do you want me to summon the priest?” Sir Handel asked.

“Summon him at once. I see no reason to delay the wedding.”

He bowed. “As you say, it shall be done.”

Gavin watched as Sir Handel left. The sooner he united her kingdom with his, the sooner her knights would align themselves with him. It’d been a risk to bring Sandy here to his world and try to convince her to change the course of the story. Forcing her into marriage hadn’t been his first choice, but she left him with no other option. She was going to resist it, of course, but there was little he could do about that except keep an eye on her in case she tried to escape. No. There was no “in case she tried to escape.” She would definitely try it. And when she did, he’d be ready for her.

With a determined nod, he turned back to the table and picked up the map of his castle and unrolled it. His safest bet was to place spies at different points along the wall surrounding it. He couldn’t watch everything she did, nor could he spend all his time with her to make sure she didn’t run off. He had a nagging suspicion that his decision to interfere with Sandy’s current story, which would affect the sequel she planned to write, would have unexpected ramifications. His gaze went back to the map of the different kingdoms. The question was, who wouldn’t like the turn of events and what would they do about it?

***

Sandy strolled down the corridor later that day, ever mindful of the flickering light provided by torches that did little to banish the shadows. She hated the shadows. Though she wasn’t one to get easily spooked, she quickened her pace, trying not to imagine something horrible lurking in them.

“I can outrun you,” the guard a few feet away from her warned as she turned down another corridor.

She glanced at the guard. He was so quiet, she barely remembered he was behind her. Right after breakfast, King Blackheart insisted she be guarded at all times.

“Nothing personal,” he’d told her. “I just can’t have the queen running off on me.”

Now as she thought of his ridiculous statement, she wanted nothing more than to go up to him and say if he was that concerned, he should be the one following her instead of making someone else do his dirty work.

“Where are you going?” the guard asked.

“If you follow me long enough, you’ll find out,” she muttered under her breath.

“I beg your pardon, my lady. I didn’t hear what you said.”

She groaned and stopped so she could face him. “All I’m doing is exploring my prison.”

“Prison? Do you mean you wish to see the dungeon?”

“No. I mean all of this,” she motioned to the walls. “This is my prison.” For emphasis, she added, “My dungeon.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re going to be the queen. This is your castle.”

“That’ll be the day,” she muttered and continued striding down the corridor.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I didn’t catch what you said.”

“It’s nothing,” she called out over her shoulder and quickened her pace.

Man, if only there was a way to get rid of the guard, then she could relax. Better yet, she could figure out a way to escape. She knew what the king was doing. He was making sure she didn’t get a chance to leave the castle. And that was what made this place a prison. A prison, by definition, was a place where one couldn’t leave. She decided not to explain this to the guard. What was the use? He was a lackey who was doing what he was told.

She slowed her steps as an idea came to her. Turning to the guard, she said, “I must use the bathroom.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Bathroom?”