9. Anna

Anna

T he moment I'm secured— locked —in his bedroom, I begin pacing. I'm in over my head, and I can't even reference the book to see what might come next. My reliance on technology will be going to be my downfall. No internet. No vibrator. I'm in hell. I thought I had the book memorised, but this story has gone off the rails. When he said I was his, I was sure it was just a sexy line, not that I'd be now trapped in a cage of a room. While my fictional fate is temporarily sealed, my greatest worry is that we're changing the novel. I'd never forgive myself if this fever or wine-induced dream rewrote my favourite book.

No matter how good he is with his mouth.

There's a soft knock at the door and the turning of a key, possibly freeing me from this palace prison. My face falls as a woman walks in. "Your Royal Highness, may I?—"

"I'm not married and hold no title," I growl. Her eyes widen, and I sigh, knowing I'm being quite the cunt right now. "Please, call me Anna. I'm not married to the prince quite yet."

"As you please, Miss Anna."

She doesn't look me in the eye, and it makes my stomach sour. I close the distance and tilt her chin to look at me. "Even when I'm queen— if I am queen—you are to address me as Anna."

Offering me a small smile, she replies, "Thank you, Miss Anna."

I hate that she's throwing the ‘Miss' in front of my name, but if I'm to survive in this alternate reality, beggars can't be choosers. "You and I shall become great friends if I'm stuck here for the remainder of my days. What is your name?"

"Eliza."

"What?" I choke on my own air and take in her appearance. Put a gown on her and she's a replica of the character I've read about no less than a dozen times. "Eliza?"

"I'm so sorry, miss, if I've?—"

"No. No, that's quite all right. I was just surprised, is all," I lie, though it's bitter on my tongue. "How long have you worked here?" Please say more than a day…

"This is my first position assisting the Crown Prince. I began working here?—"

"Yesterday," we say in unison.

Fuck.

"Eliza, this may sound strange, but was it in the morning? "

Please, for the love, say no.

"Yes, miss, but I'm a little unsure of the details. The last few years are also something of a fog." Her eyes widen and she rushes out, "You need to rest. Tomorrow's a big day for you and the prince. Shall I draw you a bath this evening, or would you prefer the morning?"

"Morning. Yes, the morning."

Maybe all I need is a good night's sleep? If I fall asleep now, maybe I'll wake up back in my own bed. This is all just one elaborate sex dream, and I need to get back to reality. This maid or lady-in-waiting… whatever she is, she's supposed to be with James, not me.

Eliza helps me slip into what can only be described as a muumuu, and I slide into bed. Once the lights are out, I whisper into the darkness, "Goodnight, Prince James. It's been fun."