His Abducted Bride

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  “That sucks,” Sandy commented. Not that she’d been rooting for Leo or anything, but it seemed like the price they paid wasn’t worth the thing they wanted.

  His face somber, he finished, “The four remaining sons of King Fairview each took one of the continents and ruled over the people living on them. So it has been to this day.” He gave a bow, signaling his oral presentation was at an end.

  Sandy joined the others in clapping. If nothing else, she did find the speech both entertaining and informative. She wouldn’t have made up an elaborate Twenty Year War or the whole thing with the magician if she’d written the history of this world, but since the world decided to write its own history, she just had to accept it. When she got back to her own world, she could always go back through the story and rewrite it if she wanted. But she figured it was neat enough, so she’d probably leave it alone.

  When the banquet came to an end, King Blackheart insisted on escorting her back to her bedchamber.

  “There’s no need,” she replied. “I know the way.” And besides, she wouldn’t mind some time alone. It seemed that ever since she woke up, someone had to be with her.

  “I realize you know the way, but since my bedchamber is close by, it makes sense I take you there. Unless, of course, you’d like to take a stroll through the gardens? I think you’ll be delighted with them.”

  “You don’t have any gardens. All you have is a bunch of thorns growing along your castle walls.”

  With his usual irritating smirk, he said, “In your version that was true. But in my version of the story, things are different.”

  She groaned at the reminder. “I’ll pass. I’ve had enough of you and this place. All I want to do is go home.” Before he could reply, she added, “Don’t say it. I know you want me to accept this place as my home, but it isn’t going to happen. Ever.”

  She turned to leave, but he was quick to join her. “I’m afraid I can’t let you go unescorted until you come to accept your new life.”

  “Great. Then I’ll be tailed around by some idiot for the rest of my life.”

  “Must you put up such a fuss?”

  “Look,” she began, “I was a good sport back there, alright? I smiled and didn’t argue when you made the marriage announcement. Then I sat through the entire spiel of things that happened long ago on this world.”

  “And some of those things impact where we are today in this world.”

  Being that he was a character who belonged in this world, she couldn’t argue his point, but even so, she didn’t see what that had to do with her.

  She proceeded down the dark corridor lit by torches. The damp air was a solemn reminder that she should be in the comfort of her cozy, warm apartment. He had no right to drag her here against her will, to force her into a so-called marriage to change the course of her book. It was her book! Not his. She would have been better off if she’d picked King Petros to be the villain of the book instead of King Blackheart. But how was she to know King Blackheart would take on a personality of his own? He was a thing of fiction, a figment of her imagination. And now he was acting as if he was real.

  “I really hate it when characters get an attitude with me,” she muttered.

  “What was that?” he called out, close behind her.

  She decided not to answer him. She was tired of talking to him. At the moment, she was tired of trying to think of a way to escape. It’d been a long day. All she wanted to do was go to bed, pull the covers up over her head, and wake up in her apartment.

  “I was thinking,” he added as she continued her brisk walk down the corridor, “that you should refer to me by my first name.”

  “You don’t have a first name.”

  “Of course, I do. Everyone has a first name.”

  “The villain of my story doesn’t.” She found no reason to give first names to characters she planned to kill off.

  “I gave myself a name.”

  She turned down the corridor and hurried up the steps that would take her to her bedchamber. Unfortunately, he was close behind and that meant she wasn’t any closer to ditching him than she’d been last night when he abducted her.

  “It’s Gavin,” he called out. “I know you would have preferred something like Ire or Brute, but I thought an ordinary name fit better.”

  “I don’t care what you named yourself. You can be Bob or Jim for all I care.”

  “I like Gavin better.”

  “Great. Then you have something you want to be.” When she reached the top of the steps, she spun around so she was facing him. “Why can’t you be content with being my character? Why do you have to be more than that?”

  “Because there’s more to me than you were willing to write.”

  She sighed and headed down the hallway. “Of all the characters in all the world, I had to get the one who has delusions of grandeur.”

  “It’s a delusion of grandeur for me to want to live? I think that’s a rather cold thing to believe.”

  She rubbed her forehead and stopped at her bedchamber door. “What you want is irrelevant. You’re not real. You’re someone I made up. But you know what? Right now I don’t care. I’m tired and my head hurts, so I’m done having this discussion.”

  “Someday you’ll understand how real I am.”

  “Whatever.” She opened the door and slipped into the bedchamber. “Don’t follow me in. We’re not married yet, pal.”

  Then she shut the door and stumbled to the chair by her vanity and sat down. She closed her eyes and waited for the world to stop spinning around her before she opened them.

  “It’s probably the corset,” she mumbled as she rose to her feet. “I’m surprised I didn’t pass out during the meal with the restrictive thing nearly suffocating me.” She was ready to pull the cord to call Noel when her lady’s maid entered the bedchamber. “Oh, good. You’re here. Please remove these abominable clothes from me at once.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief as Noel worked to swiftly release her from the confines of the dress and then, even better, the corset. In due time, she was comfortable in her nightclothes and settled into bed. She pulled the covers up to her chin, surprised that a chill should be in the room when the fire crackled nicely in the large fireplace. She hoped that when she woke up from her slumber, she’d be back in her apartment. But when morning came, she was still in the story.

  Chapter Six

  Three days later, Gavin clashed swords with Sir Handel. They’d been practicing in the courtyard for over an hour. Usually, the adrenaline from the strenuous exercise made him feel powerful and in control of the world around him, but today, he couldn’t find peace. Sandy came to the banquet hall and had breakfast, dressed in a morning gown befitting her status. Sure, she hadn’t said more than the courtesy hello, but she hadn’t argued with him either.

  He wasn’t sure what was going on inside that mind of hers, except he knew better than to think she was suddenly on board with the idea of keeping him alive or marrying him. She was up to something. This temporary lull of peace couldn’t be good.

  He swung his sword with more force than necessary and Sir Handel stumbled back as he blocked the attack with his own sword. Gavin stopped fighting. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

  “It’s alright, my lord.” Sir Handel assured him.

  “No, it’s not alright. I’m supposed to be a skilled warrior. I shouldn’t be letting my emotions get in the way of my exercise.” He sighed and slipped the sword in its sheath. Placing his hands on his hips, he glanced up at the window that marked Sandy’s bedchamber. He had no idea if Sandy was watching him, or if she even cared what he did with his spare time, but he had to put her out of his mind. Even if he wasn’t the villain she made him out to be, he couldn’t let anyone detect a weakness in him.

  “King Blackheart!”

  Gavin and Sir Handel turned their attention to the young squire who ran across the courtyard. Curious when he saw the rolled
up parchment in the squire’s hand, Gavin left Sir Handel and strode toward the youth. When he reached him, he asked, “You have a message for me?”

  “Yes, my lord,” the youth replied, out of breath. “It came from a messenger. I’m afraid it’s from King Petros.”

  Gavin accepted the parchment from him and inspected the elaborate ‘P’ on the seal. It was from King Petros alright. He wondered how long it would take the man to realize he’d abducted the author. Looking up at the squire, he said, “Thank you. Return to your station.”

  The youth nodded and hurried to do as he was ordered.

  Gavin spun on his heel. Noting the expectant stares from his knights who had ceased in their practice, he called out, “As you were. There’s nothing here that concerns you.” Not yet anyway.

  The knights reluctantly returned to their practice. They weren’t fools. Gavin had trained them well, and fortunately, Sandy had made them wise enough to detect impending danger. It was what made them such a formidable foe in her story. Except, they weren’t the enemy she assumed them to be. His men, like him, were the good guys, but until she gave him a chance, she’d never believe in the good his men possessed.

  He strode into the castle, giving a curt nod to the servants who bowed as he passed by. As much as he wanted to tear the seal off the missive and read it right away, he needed to wait until he was alone. He went straight to his planning room and bolted the door shut. Finally! He stopped by the round table in the middle of the room and peeled the seal off and rolled the parchment open.

  King Blackheart,

  I couldn’t help but notice everything I’ve worked hard to build over the past year has been wiped away in a single instant. I don’t know why or how you changed the course of the author’s story, but I demand you put things back to the way they were at once. Send the author back to where she belongs. If you don’t, I will. And you won’t like what I’ll do to you if I have to take matters into my own hands.

  King Petros of Reinhold

  Undaunted by the man’s threat, Gavin snorted. Did King Petros really believe a threat would work? Gavin was a dead man if he returned Sandy to her world and King Petros knew it. Even if he wasn’t a main character in the story, Petros knew enough about the plot to figure out Gavin’s end.

  A sudden banging on the door grabbed his attention. Before he could ask who it was, Sandy yelled, “Open this door!”

  He rolled his eyes. Leave it to the author to want to know what was going on right under her nose. It was good that she wasn’t privy to everything that happened in this world anymore. It gave him an advantage. He shoved the parchment into his pocket and strode to the door. He removed the bolt and opened the door, slightly amused when she almost fell into the room.

  “You wish to speak with me?” he asked, making sure to keep his tone light in case she sensed his unease about King Petros.

  She straightened up and smoothed her dress. Clearing her throat, she made eye contact with him. “You know very well why I’m here.”

  He crossed his arms and walked back to the table. “Maybe I want to hear you say it.”

  She grunted and headed over to him. “I saw the messenger come here. Who sent you word and where is the missive?”

  Raising his eyebrow, he turned to her and leaned against the table. “You mean to tell me you didn’t recognize the messenger?” Interesting. He thought she would know who the messenger was since she created him.

  “Don’t be cute. I’m not in the mood to play games. What did the message say and who sent it?”

  “It was a message to congratulate us on our upcoming marriage.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t believe you.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you believe or don’t believe. I’m telling you that’s what it said.”

  “Must you continue to be difficult?”

  “Do you still want to kill me off?”

  “Do you mean, do I want to go back to my world and write this story the way it’s supposed to be? The answer is yes.”

  “Fine. Then yes, I must be difficult.”

  She stared at him for a moment then gritted her teeth. “I hate you.”

  “Your feelings for me are of little concern to me,” he replied, refusing to let her know she could upset him. With a smirk, he added, “All I want is results. If you can’t give me what I want, you’ll be chained to me for life, figuratively speaking of course. Though I think it might be fun to try it for real, especially if we don’t wear anything.”

  She frowned and turned to the window which overlooked the land. “You are aptly named Blackheart. You will do whatever you want to get your way, no matter who you hurt.”

  “That’s not fair,” he argued. “I haven’t hurt you in the time you’ve been here. In fact, I’ve seen to your every need. You have everything befitting a queen.”

  “Everything but my freedom.” She turned around and glared at him. “I’m nothing but a glorified slave.”

  “A slave? I assure you that if you were a slave, you wouldn’t be wearing the finest dresses in all the land or eating in my banquet hall. I have given you the best position a woman can have in this kingdom. And what’s more, I fully intend to keep you alive, which is much better than you would do for me.”

  “How many times do I have to remind you that you’re a character in a story? You aren’t real.”

  “I guess you’ll have to remind me every day since I’m too stupid to realize it.”

  She stared at him, her mouth forming a thin line and hands clenched at her sides.

  He honestly didn’t know how to get through to her. There had to be a way to get through her wall, but she had no intention of listening—really listen—to him. She was bound and determined to kill him off. He questioned the sanity of marrying a woman who could very easily slip a knife under her pillow and kill him while he slept, but he assured himself that he wouldn’t dare get that close to her. The least of his concerns was getting an heir. What he most needed was to secure his standing in the novel.

  Releasing his breath, he pulled out his sword, satisfied when he noted the flicker of apprehension cross her face. He didn’t think he could kill her since she didn’t originate in this world, but maybe if she questioned her mortality here, she’d get a better appreciation for his predicament. “I need to practice in the courtyard,” he finally told her and lifted the sword. “It wouldn’t do well to go lax on my skills in case you decide to try to come after me.”

  “You know very well that I couldn’t find any weapons.”

  His eyebrows rose. “I didn’t realize you tried to find them.” He couldn’t read her expression, and that both intrigued and alarmed him. As much as he wanted to know what she was plotting, he knew he’d have to wait and see what stunts she’d pull to get back to her world. Forcing a smile, he added, “You’re welcome to watch me practice.”

  “Can I have a sword?”

  He chuckled. “Do you really think I’m so foolish? I wouldn’t dare give you the skills you need in order to get rid of me.”

  “And what if you had to go into battle? Wouldn’t you want someone who is qualified to fight with you?”

  “A queen’s job is to have children, not engage in battle. Besides the fact that you intend to kill me, my biggest criticism of your story is that you would go into battle without an heir to take your place. What if you died? Who would rule your kingdom?”

  She crossed her arms and turned back to the window. “I’m the author. I control each and every battle, and,” she glanced over her shoulder and made eye contact with him, “I never die. There’s no danger in my kingdom being without a ruler.”

  “There wasn’t that danger when you were in your world. You’re here now. And that means you’re just as vulnerable as the rest of us.” At least that was a possibility. There was the other possibility that she was invincible, but he’d never give her that idea. It was better to let her think she could die here. “Since I have no heir yet, you will do what good q
ueens do and stay out of battle.”

  “I’ll never give you an heir,” she snapped.

  He thought he detected a hint of regret underlying the anger in her tone but quickly dismissed it. She was being difficult, as usual. “Not today of course.” He walked over to the door. “I have more pressing things to tend to than getting under your dress.”

  She gasped. “You needn’t be so crude.”

  “I’m merely stating a fact. I have a possible issue to deal with, and I’ve wasted enough time talking to you. We have a library here. Why don’t you read a book so you can learn how to be submissive to your king like a good queen is supposed to do?”

  She gasped again, but this time she didn’t remain still. She ran to the wall and picked up a sword. He hurried out of the room before she could pursue him. As he rushed down the steps, he made a mental note not to leave any weapons on the walls of his planning room in the future. He suspected she had never used one before, but there was no sense in finding out what damage she could do if she swung the thing in his direction. Fortunately, he made it to the courtyard unscathed and resumed his practice.

  Chapter Seven

  Sandy leaned against the cool wall of the corridor and resisted the urge to bang her head against it. There was no point in hurting herself because she was frustrated.

  “Is there something you need, my lady?”

  With a weary sigh, she turned her head in the guard’s direction. For ten days, she’d been closely monitored by someone. Not only was it a huge pain to be followed at all times, but there was a guard outside her bedchamber during the night. King Blackheart left nothing to chance. She never should have created such a devious and clever character.

  “My lady?”

  She straightened and proceeded down the corridor, deciding to ignore the guard. It wasn’t his fault. He was only doing what he was ordered to do, but she was sick of not being able to do her own thing. And worse, she still had no idea how the king managed to trap her here.