4. James

James

T he earth shaking is the only explanation. When we were in the library, it was announced that Miss Eliza was being prepared for my arrival. It doesn't make sense that she wouldn't be here, in this house, mere moments later.

"Who is Miss Eliza?" I ask the help as she steps out of the parlour and closes the door behind her. I need answers.

"There is no Eliza at this residence," she says simply looking at Anna. "The only woman of age is Miss Anna."

My eyes widen. "Are you implying Miss Eliza is not of age?"

"No, Sir, she… is no longer with us. She hasn't lived here for years."

She said Eliza was being prepared… What is happening?

"Years? That doesn't make sense," Anna huffs. "How could she?—"

The woman whispers to Anna, and whatever she says has Anna insisting, "That's not in the book!" The woman steps back from her and curtsies.

Before anyone can protest, I demand, "Where is Mr. Thompson?"

"In the billiard room with the candlestick!" Anna exclaims. Both the chambermaid and I look at her with brows pinched. After an exaggerated sigh, Anna attempts to explain, "Something is amiss. The house shook; a book must've fallen and hit my head."

"There was no shaking, Miss."

The admission only furthers my confusion. First, Anna insists I'm to marry a woman who's being prepared for my arrival—who no longer lives here. Now, I'm being told the home wasn't shaking when it most definitely was. While I don't know what happened, even Anna appears to agree that something is wrong.

Unless this is her doing…

The chambermaid politely excuses herself, and I ask Anna, "What sort of game are you playing here?"

"This isn't a game," she groans and narrows her eyes. "I don't know what's happening, but since you're the fictional one, why don't you tell me?"

"Fictional?"

"Yes. You, Prince James, are a figment of my imagination. You've leaped out of the pages of a book, and my only recourse is to play along until I wake up. So help me, if you fuck up the plot of this book… "

"Have you lost your mind? You do realise you're addressing royalty?"

Anna huffs a laugh. "This was a fun dream, but I'm going to need you to help me wake up now. What's the best way to go about this?" As she continues on a rant about how this isn't real, my eyes fixate on her lips. Though I haven't the slightest idea what she's actually saying—there's something about this woman that has me desperate to touch her, kiss her, claim her as my own.

Catching myself staring too long, I shake the thought away and ask, "What did you say?"

"Were you even listening to me? Apparently, even fictional men are terrible at listening. I need to get out of here, and you need to fall in love with?—"

I pull Anna to me by the small of her back. Our bodies flush, something I can't control inside me takes over, and my lips crash into hers. They're soft, addicting… fucking delectable. I've only kissed a few women in my life, but they were nothing like this. She sighs into me as my hand slides into her hair, guiding her exactly where I want her. A soft moan passes her lips, but in an instant, she pulls back.

"That felt real," she whispers, touching her lips.

"Of course it felt real; I kissed you!" Then, I mutter to myself, "I kissed her. Why did I kiss her?"

"You can't kiss me, you're supposed to be with Eliza."

"I'm the Crown Prince, I can be with and marry whomever I like," I growl. "I don't even know who this Miss Eliza is. "

"You don't know who I am either." She clucks her tongue. "Well, this has been fun." With a brief curtsy, she swiftly opens the door to join her family.

I'm unsure of what to make of the whole situation, but one thing's for certain, after the brief taste I had of her: I will kiss Anna again… as her husband.