Page 10 of Undeclared Heir

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.”

James

PRESENT DAY - TWO WEEKS LATER

My hand braces against the shower wall as I fist my cock, fantasising about a fictional woman. For the last few weeks, I’ve had the same recurring dream—I’m a prince, she’s a cheeky woman who knows it’s a dream and refuses to play the part. Tasting her while she was spread wide for me on a piano, fucking her against a wall because I couldn’t wait another moment to be inside her… her screaming my name. Every night, it’s the same.

I’ve tried dating, watching porn, anything to think of any other woman but Anna.

Nothing works.

Stroking faster, I finally find my release, painting the wall with my cum. The hot water beats down on me as I catch my breath, her name spilling from my lips. What I wouldn’t give for her to be real.

This is outright insanity.

I detach the showerhead to spray off my cum, disappointed yet again that I’m only able to think of her. She consumes my every waking thought and my dreams.

Shutting off the water, I step out of the shower and dry off. As I lift my gaze, finding my reflection in the fogged mirror, I don’t recognize the man staring back at me.

I can’t keep doing this…

With only a few minutes to spare, I manage to get dressed and have a quick bite for breakfast. I’ve missed the train every day for the last two weeks since the dreams began, and I refuse to miss it today.

I rush to the station right as the train pulls up. The doors open, and I find a few empty seats, including one next to a brunette woman with green plastic-rimmed glasses, focused on her e-reader. I sit next to her, and a few minutes into the ride, she sucks in a breath and I can’t help glancing over, curious at what she’s reading.

“It’s just a pussy, James,” she laughs, but it feels like a song tugging at my soul.

Kissing the inside of her thigh, I whisper, “It’s mine now.”

I do a double take. The same words from my recurring dream dance across the screen. “Excuse me, what book is that?” The woman fumbles her device, which falls to the ground. I reach for it, handing it back to her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. It looked familiar, and I wasn’t able to place the title.” The lie slips from my lips too easily.

“Undeclared Heir. It’s, um… women’s fiction, definitely not inappropriate for a train commute,” she insists, adjusting her glasses.

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