This upcoming week, I’ll take this scene from His Abducted Bride and swap heroes to see how they would react in Gavin’s shoes. 😀
Here is the original scene from His Abducted Bride (It takes place before Gavin forces Sandy to marry him):
Gavin strode into the castle, giving a curt nod to the servants who bowed as he passed by. As much as he wanted to tear the seal off the missive and read it right away, he needed to wait until he was alone. He went straight to his planning room and bolted the door shut. Finally! He stopped by the round table in the middle of the room and peeled the seal off and rolled the parchment open.
I couldn’t help but notice everything I’ve worked hard to build over the past year has been wiped away in a single instant. I don’t know why or how you changed the course of the author’s story, but I demand you put things back to the way they were at once. Send the author back to where she belongs. If you don’t, I will. And you won’t like what I’ll do to you if I have to take matters into my own hands.
King Petros of Reinhold
Undaunted by the man’s threat, Gavin snorted. Did King Petros really believe a threat would work? Gavin was a dead man if he returned Sandy to her world and King Petros knew it. Even if he wasn’t a main character in the story, Petros knew enough about the plot to figure out Gavin’s end.
A sudden banging on the door grabbed his attention. Before he could ask who it was, Sandy yelled, “Open this door!”
He rolled his eyes. Leave it to the author to want to know what was going on right under her nose. It was good that she wasn’t privy to everything that happened in this world anymore. It gave him an advantage. He shoved the parchment into his pocket and strode to the door. He removed the bolt and opened the door, slightly amused when she almost fell into the room.
“You wish to speak with me?” he asked, making sure to keep his tone light in case she sensed his unease about King Petros.
She straightened up and smoothed her dress. Clearing her throat, she made eye contact with him. “You know very well why I’m here.”
He crossed his arms and walked back to the table. “Maybe I want to hear you say it.”
She grunted and headed over to him. “I saw the messenger come here. Who sent you word and where is the missive?”
Raising his eyebrow, he turned to her and leaned against the table. “You mean to tell me you didn’t recognize the messenger?” Interesting. He thought she would know who the messenger was since she created him.
“Don’t be cute. I’m not in the mood to play games. What did the message say and who sent it?”
“It was a message to congratulate us on our upcoming marriage.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t believe you.”
“It doesn’t matter what you believe or don’t believe. I’m telling you that’s what it said.”
“Must you continue to be difficult?”
“Do you still want to kill me off?”
“Do you mean, do I want to go back to my world and write this story the way it’s supposed to be? The answer is yes.”
“Fine. Then yes, I must be difficult.”
She stared at him for a moment then gritted her teeth. “I hate you.”
“Your feelings for me are of little concern to me,” he replied, refusing to let her know she could upset him. With a smirk, he added, “All I want is results. If you can’t give me what I want, you’ll be chained to me for life, figuratively speaking of course. Though I think it might be fun to try it for real, especially if we don’t wear anything.”
She frowned and turned to the window which overlooked the land. “You are aptly named Blackheart. You will do whatever you want to get your way, no matter who you hurt.”
“That’s not fair,” he argued. “I haven’t hurt you in the time you’ve been here. In fact, I’ve seen to your every need. You have everything befitting a queen.”
“Everything but my freedom.” She turned around and glared at him. “I’m nothing but a glorified slave.”
“A slave? I assure you that if you were a slave, you wouldn’t be wearing the finest dresses in all the land or eating in my banquet hall. I have given you the best position a woman can have in this kingdom. And what’s more, I fully intend to keep you alive, which is much better than you would do for me.”
“How many times do I have to remind you that you’re a character in a story? You aren’t real.”
“I guess you’ll have to remind me every day since I’m too stupid to realize it.”
She stared at him, her mouth forming a thin line and hands clenched at her sides.
He honestly didn’t know how to get through to her. There had to be a way to get through her wall, but she had no intention of listening—really listen—to him. She was bound and determined to kill him off. He questioned the sanity of marrying a woman who could very easily slip a knife under her pillow and kill him while he slept, but he assured himself that he wouldn’t dare get that close to her. The least of his concerns was getting an heir. What he most needed was to secure his standing in the novel.
Releasing his breath, he pulled out his sword, satisfied when he noted the flicker of apprehension cross her face. He didn’t think he could kill her since she didn’t originate in this world, but maybe if she questioned her mortality here, she’d get a better appreciation for his predicament. “I need to practice in the courtyard,” he finally told her and lifted the sword. “It wouldn’t do well to go lax on my skills in case you decide to try to come after me.”
“You know very well that I couldn’t find any weapons.”
His eyebrows rose. “I didn’t realize you tried to find them.” He couldn’t read her expression, and that both intrigued and alarmed him. As much as he wanted to know what she was plotting, he knew he’d have to wait and see what stunts she’d pull to get back to her world. Forcing a smile, he added, “You’re welcome to watch me practice.”
“Can I have a sword?”
He chuckled. “Do you really think I’m so foolish? I wouldn’t dare give you the skills you need in order to get rid of me.”
“And what if you had to go into battle? Wouldn’t you want someone who is qualified to fight with you?”
“A queen’s job is to have children, not engage in battle. Besides the fact that you intend to kill me, my biggest criticism of your story is that you would go into battle without an heir to take your place. What if you died? Who would rule your kingdom?”
She crossed her arms and turned back to the window. “I’m the author. I control each and every battle, and,” she glanced over her shoulder and made eye contact with him, “I never die. There’s no danger that my kingdom would be without a ruler.”
“There wasn’t that danger when you were in your world. You’re here now. And that means you’re just as vulnerable as the rest of us.” At least that was a possibility. There was the other possibility that she was invincible, but he’d never give her that idea. It was better to let her think she could die here. “Since I have no heir yet, you will do what good queens do and stay out of battle.”
“I’ll never give you an heir,” she snapped.
He thought he detected a hint of regret underlying the anger in her tone but quickly dismissed it. She was being difficult, as usual. “Not today of course.” He walked over to the door. “I have more pressing things to tend to than getting under your dress.”
She gasped. “You needn’t be so crude.”
“I’m merely stating a fact. I have a possible issue to deal with, and I’ve wasted enough time talking to you. We have a library here. Why don’t you read a book so you can learn how to be submissive to your king like a good queen is supposed to do?”
She gasped again, but this time she didn’t remain still. She ran to the wall and picked up a sword. He hurried out of the room before she could pursue him.