Page 5 of Undeclared Heir

“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.

Anna

“Anna, you’re flushed,” the older woman worries and rushes towards me. I’m pretty confident she’s Mrs. Thompson—my mother.

“I’m fine,” I assure her as she takes my hands, and then presses the back of her hand to my forehead.

“Kathryn!” she calls to the chambermaid, “Can you assure Miss Anna is taken care of? She feels warm.”

“I’m not warm, I just made out with Jam— I mean, I might be unwell. Thank you.”

“Miss Anna, a word?” James demands from behind me.

I inwardly groan and stifle an inevitable grimace, painting on an angelic smile as I turn. “Yes, Prince James. Of course.”

Once out of earshot of my fake family, he asks, “You felt that earlier, didn’t you? Or are we both mad?”

“I know you’re looking for a wife,” I whisper, glancing around the room to ensure no one can hear me, “so you can become king. You have to find Eliza to make that happen.”

“I told you before, I’m a prince and may marry anyone I please.”

“Then do it!” My voice carries, garnering the attention of everyone around me. “Do it,” I repeat in a hushed tone, “but you won’t find love if you don’t marry Eliza.”

James pierces me with a glare and—without his eyes leaving mine—announces to my family, “Miss Anna and I are to be married…”

“What?” I squeak. “No, I’m sorry, you must’ve misheard me.”

“...tomorrow. We shall celebrate our engagement at the ball this evening.” He leans in, and through the murmurs of the family, he whispers, “You give wonderful advice, Miss Anna.”

I attempt to counter him, but I am instantly surrounded by everyone and their congratulations. How can it be that I’m single-handedly ruining my favourite novel? No. This is his fault. The only thing that could make this worse would be…

Fucking hell, I don’t know how to dance.

“Mama is right. I’m feeling quite ill, I should lie down. Excuse me.”

I push past everyone, hearing someone behind me say, “It must be worse than we thought, she’s confusing her aunt for her mother…”

James has to find Eliza. They’re the fake dating, enemies-to-lovers, hot sex in the library, ideal couple. I need to remind myself that I don’t have the ability to change the author’s story; it’s all just a nightmare I can’t seem to wake up from. There’s no Miss Anna, no Kathryn the chambermaid, and Miss Eliza doesn’t have an aunt in the book.

I continue recalling parts of the story, finding more holes—namely James never visited the library by himself with Eliza until the ball. I don’t have a moment to enjoy the fantasy of pretending to be in this book as I rush down the hall, trying to find the room I stayed in last night. Everything here looks the same—white walls adorned with old paintings, and every door is identical.

Fuck, which one is it?

“Miss Anna, wait,” James calls after me, stopping my hunt for the room. We shouldn’t make a habit of this chase, but I remain rooted in place as my shoulders fall, and I sigh, wondering whether maybe I’m cursed.

“Yes, Prince James.” I curtsy, but I have no idea if I’m doing it correctly. My only reference for proper etiquette in this situation is from books or the movie adaptations of Pride and Prejudice.

“The arrangements have been made, but I have something I must discuss with you at once.”

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