His Abducted Bride (7 page)

“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 queens 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.

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.

She walked outside on the edge of the courtyard where the king and his knights were practicing their sword fighting. Crossing her arms, she stopped and watched Blackheart, willing him to grow uncomfortable under the intensity of her glare. But he continued swinging his sword as if she wasn’t there. He had to know she was there. He had a tendency to pick up on the slightest change in his environment. Though that trait impressed her, she refused to give voice to anything positive she noticed about him.

After five minutes of staring at him with a scowl on her face, she gave up trying to get him to look in her direction and turned her attention to the steps that led to the wall. She might as well check out the landscape again. The guard still behind her, she reached the top of the wall and studied the forest that spanned miles before her. Beyond the forest, she saw the sunlight glimmer off the ocean. Her kingdom wasn’t too far from there.

Grunting, she reminded herself that this world was fiction. It didn’t really exist. Her so-called kingdom was really an apartment, and she was a waitress, not a queen. Her thoughts turned to her family and Caitlyn. There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t wonder what they must be going through. They would have the police looking for her, and the police wouldn’t be able to find her. No one would guess she was stuck inside her computer’s hard drive. Help wouldn’t come from outside. She had no hope of escaping on her own. Besides Noel and two guards, she didn’t know anyone. Noel and the guards were extremely loyal to King Blackheart. They’d never betray him.

She spun around and looked back at the courtyard which was below her. Again, she willed the king to look up at her, to acknowledge her, to grow uncomfortable under the heat of her stare. But he didn’t. For all he cared, she might as well have been invisible.

A guard ran into the courtyard. Curious, she focused on him as he approached the king. King Blackheart glanced her way while the guard talked to him. She crossed her arms. King Blackheart gestured to the guard beside her.

The guard nodded and turned to her. “Your presence is required in the throne room.”

“Required?” she asked, thinking that was an odd way of saying she was wanted in the throne room.

“Yes. You have to go.”

“I
have
to?”

“Yes. The king won’t let you refuse.”

“Oh really? And what is he going to do if I refuse?”

He stared at her, unblinking. “Are you refusing?”

She almost asked him,
What do you think?
but resisted the urge. Instead, she said, “I have to tend to some personal matters.”

“That can wait.”

“I’m afraid it can’t. Not unless you want me to make an unpleasant mess.”

“I don’t believe you need to go to the privy.”

Before she could respond, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Stunned, she didn’t fight to get away from him as he carried her down the stairs. The men around her chuckled, and her face flushed in embarrassment. If King Blackheart thought her guard could treat her like a wayward child in front of his men and get her to agree to whatever he wanted, he had another thing coming.

The guard strode across the courtyard, and as they passed the king, she noticed a slight smirk on his face. Aggravated, she yelled out, “I won’t do it! Whatever it is you have planned, I won’t do it!”

“We’ll see,” he called out.

She grunted. She hated how certain he was that he could get her to do anything he wanted. It only made her more determined to resist him.

The guard carried her into the castle and to the throne room, bouncing her on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. When he set her down, she realized he had placed her in front of a man with a long blue satin robe and matching hat.

Her eyes grew wide. “The magician?” He looked exactly the way she’d pictured him while she wrote the book, but… “Didn’t King Blackheart kill you for betraying him to one of my knights?”

“In your version of the story, that was true, but we’re not in your version anymore,” the guard told her. Turning to the magician, he added, “You know what to do.”

“What? What does he have to…”

A blue haze surrounded her, and she forgot the rest of her question. She knew he was putting a spell on her. She felt the magic reach out and penetrate her mind, dispelling all protests from her. In its place was a very pleasant sensation. Though a part of her realized she should be alarmed, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

The door to the throne room opened, and she turned in time to see King Blackheart stride across the room with a priest, that knowing smirk still on his face. As much as she wanted to narrow her eyes at him, her body wouldn’t obey. She felt a smile form on her lips.

“You see, Father Augustine,” King Blackheart began, motioning to her, “she’s quite agreeable to the marriage.”

“Yes, I am.” She blinked in shock. Good heavens but did that phrase just come out of her mouth? And was she really smiling as if this was the best thing that ever happened to her? She looked at the magician. She had no idea she made him
that
powerful.

Father Augustine’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m relieved. While I understand much is at stake, my own life included, I can’t bring myself to marry a man or woman against their will.” With a smile, he stepped between the two thrones, one for Blackheart and the other for her. “Please, come.”

To Sandy’s horror, she hurried over to him, still smiling as if this was the best thing that ever happened to her. She glanced at the magician and mentally grumbled. Who knew magic could be so powerful? Blackheart walked toward her at an annoyingly slow pace. She wished she could groan or roll her eyes, but the magic only permitted her to give him a ridiculous grin. The whole thing made her want to puke.

“Please, join hands,” Father Augustine said.

Blackheart reached out and took her hands in his, and as much as she wanted to pull them away, she clasped her hands around his.

“The uniting of two lives is a splendid thing,” the priest began. “You are joining more than two kingdoms. You are joining your hearts, your lives, your hopes, your dreams. From this moment forward, you will no longer be two, but you will be one. It is a blessing.”

It was a curse, Sandy thought, but she couldn’t say it. All she could do was smile like an idiot. She tuned out the rest of Father Augustine’s spiel about the beauty of marriage. Granted, she used to dream of being a bride. She was almost one, long ago. She shoved the memories back into the recesses of her mind. Josh was in the past, and that’s where he’d always be. The jerk didn’t deserve to be remembered.

Her gaze focused on Blackheart, and she wished she could slap that stupid smirk right off his face. The thought crossed her mind that she could give him the same news she gave to Josh shortly after he proposed to her. That would be the easiest way out of the marriage, but what was the point? Blackheart was a character in her story. He wasn’t real. None of this was actually happening.

As real as it felt, this world and the people in it stemmed from her imagination. This was all fake, and when she found her way back to reality, everything that happened here would be null and void. So it didn’t matter if she was married. She was only married in the story, and any story could be rewritten. Even so, it irked her that he dared to force her into something she specifically said she didn’t want.

Father Augustine finally finished talking and clasped his hands over theirs. “From day to day may your love flourish and grow stronger, regardless of what happens, good or bad. You have my blessing and are now husband and wife.” He let go of their hands and motioned to the magician. “You may hand the king the bride’s crown.”

The magician stepped forward with a delicate gold crown with a few rubies embedded in it. Blackheart let go of her hands and accepted the crown. She wanted to run off and get out of this wretched castle, but the magic held her in place. He put the crown on her head.

“Let your kingdoms prosper and your subjects know peace,” Father Augustine said before he bowed.

“Thank you for coming,” Blackheart told him.

“It was an honor to be here for this blessed event.”

Sandy inwardly groaned and averted her gaze from the jovial men.
Blessed event,
indeed! It was something alright, but blessed wasn’t the word she’d use to describe it.

Once Father Augustine left, Blackheart instructed the magician to undo his magic spell. The instant he did, she was able to scowl at Blackheart.

“It’s good to have you back to your normal self,” Blackheart dryly commented before turning to the magician and guard. “I have it from here. You may leave.”

The two men bowed and hastened out of the room.

She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Don’t think you’ve won. This was but one battle.”

“I did what was necessary,” Blackheart replied, placing his hands behind his back. “As we speak, word is being sent to your kingdom that Crystaline and Havenshire are united.”