3. Anna

Anna

I rush out of the library and back into the parlour.

What the actual hell was that?

Fuck, he's hot. Too many clothes... but hot.

The story I know and adore with every fibre of my being is at risk. If James doesn't meet Eliza, they won't have a marriage of convenience, and thus, not fall in love and live happily ever after. As much as I'm enjoying this dream I can't seem to wake up from, I must ensure the integrity of the story is maintained.

"Miss Anna," James calls after me. "Wait!"

Fuck.

I turn and smile brightly, about to open the door to find my… family? They aren't mine, but it's the best I've got until whatever high I'm on wears off. When he reaches me, I reply sweetly, "Yes, Prince James? "

"I'm still unable to follow what you proposed in the library. Why must I marry another woman and not you?"

I step away from the door to my freedom and towards him. "Miss Eliza is your true love. You'll take her as your wife, you'll quarrel… in the best of places. Most of the time leading to"—I whisper—"making love." Bile rises in my throat at the suggestion, but I should mind my language around him, even if this is fake. James coughs at the suggestion, though I suspect he's considering it with me and not Eliza. I raise my voice, carrying on, "You're meant to be with Eliza. You'll fall in love with her, and she'll submit to you in a way I could never. And several children later, you'll live in marital bliss. You can't mess with that author's timeline, James." I shudder a breath. On the exhale, my voice comes out as a whisper, "Or I might never get home."

This isn't just some kind of fucked-up joke or prank; there was a near earthquake in the library. What if the impossible was possible? What if I'm living in a book? There wasn't one in the book but it should've woke me. As ludicrous as it sounds, I've done all the tricks to wake myself from this dream. Though, if medication is at play, perhaps I should enjoy myself? There's nothing wrong with enjoying the medicinal cocktail I'm on. The author wouldn't mind, right?

No, this story must be preserved.

James eyes me suspiciously. "Miss Anna, you are home…"

"I've been away with Mrs. Green. Or have you already forgotten?" I hope he doesn't ask me about my time with her. It isn't in the book, so I'll be winging the details .

"Miss Anna—" The door opens, and he whispers, "We'll continue this later."

The woman from earlier curtsies and addresses Prince James, "My apologies."

As she closes the door to give us privacy, I insist, "It's quite all right, Prince James was just about to join everyone to find Miss Eliza."

Brows furrowed, the woman contemplates my statement for a moment, but then asks, "Who is Miss Eliza?"

I look at James—who appears equally confused—and back to the woman, finally replying, "His future wife."

"I assure you, Miss, there is no woman by that name at this residence."