Fantastical (Fantasyland 3)

I had found out that the other Cora had been there three days… three days… and in all her bitchiness she had left devastation in her wake. She was cold, imperious, demanding, haughty, impolite, patronizing and even cruel.

In all likelihood she hadn’t offended everyone in the entire city; she didn’t have superpower nastiness like Minerva had. But she did enough damage to those she came into contact with that it was clear rumor had run rampant.

The further fact (I’d heard whispers) that she had nothing to do with Tor, who was beloved (I’d heard straight out comments muttered loudly behind my back or around my person) not to mention the future king and therefore responsible for siring an heir to secure the kingdom (which she was stopping him from doing, again, I learned this from straight out comments) didn’t make her popular at all.

In fact, people thought there was something wrong with her (as they would, Tor was hot and his princedom was awesome) and whatever was wrong was no good.

As with Perdita, they didn’t even try to hide their contempt for Tor’s wife. Glares, scowls, catty, loud comments and one man even spit in the path behind me as I wandered the cobbled streets wishing to explore, be friendly and experience Tor’s city.

But the spitting, which was horrid, wasn’t the worst.

It was the maids I heard talking as I passed them in the castle after giving them a cheerful smile.

“He doesn’t like her gardenia so now she’s wearing one of his other women’s scents that we left in her room,” one whispered loudly and then joined in with her mate’s giggles.

One of his other women’s scents. That vast collection of bottles were left behind by Tor’s other women.

And the collection was vast.

And I was wearing one.

That tiny tear in my heart that started our night at the pub which I thought was long since mended split painfully further.

I was a friendly person, I was social person and I considered myself pretty strong. I’d weathered being switched to a whole different world and warrior princessed my way through a fight with the vickrants, for God’s sake.

But I was not friendly enough, social enough or strong enough to endure the quantity and intensity of hate coming at me that day.

In fact, in the end, I felt almost unsafe without Tor to watch over me.

And without Salem or Aggie (I was scared to ask anyone where I could find Perdita so I could ask for Aggie, so I didn’t), I spent hours with not a single kind soul around me.

And that was enough.

I could bear no more.

So I needed to get home before something bad happened. Like I fell in love with Tor or got stoned to death by his people.

“Please God, send me home,” I whispered through my tears as the beautiful vista lay before me, a vista no one in their right mind would ever wish to leave but one from which I had to escape.

“Cora!”

I heard Tor’s voice shouting my name. It wasn’t close but it wasn’t far.

Shit!

I hunched deeper into my chair and hastily wiped my face with the drenched, lace-edged handkerchief I found in the huge, walk-in wardrobe in Tor’s room.

“Cora!”

There it was again. And it was closer.

Crap!

The handkerchief wasn’t working so I dashed my fingers across my face, thankful that I hadn’t attempted any makeup heroics with the kohl pencil.

I heard boots on marble.

Fuck!

“There you are,” he said and I sucked in a steadying breath. “Bloody hell woman, didn’t you hear –?”

I pinned a huge smile on my face and turned it to him.

“Heya,” I greeted and he stopped dead.

“By the gods,” he breathed.

Okay, proof the handkerchief didn’t work.

I needed to cover.

“So, uh… how was your day?” I asked fake brightly.

One second he was five feet away, the next second he was right there, I was out of the chair and in his arms.

Um. Not good. Way too close.

“Cora –”

I looked down and to the side. “Is all well in your princedom?” I tried to inject lightness in my tone and knew I failed when he spoke next.

His voice was so firm it was steely when he commanded, “Look at me.”

I did as he asked, lifting my head and moving it in a swift arc, my eyes catching his for a brief second before I tried to look down to the other side but one of his hands caught me, fingers at my chin, and forced me to face him.

Foiled!

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “By the gods, what happened to you?”

“Nothing,” I replied instantly.

“Nothing?” he asked, his voice dripping with impatience and disbelief.

“Nope, nothing,” I repeated. “Everything’s cool. How are you? Did you have a good day?”

He stared at me. Then he stated, “Don’t lie to me, Cora.”

“I’m not –”

I stopped speaking when he shook me gently but firmly and semi-repeated, “I said, don’t lie to me.”

I looked into his gorgeous face, into his beautiful eyes, eyes that held mine the entire first time he moved inside me, eyes I could fall in love with and I lost it.

Completely.

I dissolved into tears in his arms, dipping my chin and shoving my face into his chest, my fingers fisting in his shirt by my cheeks as I wailed.

“Sweets, what on earth?” he murmured into the top of my hair and I jerked my head back so fast he had to jerk his up too.

“They hate me!” I cried.

“Who?” he asked.

“Everyone!” I shouted then shoved my face back into his chest and as quickly as I did, I pulled it out, looked through my watery eyes at his face and yelled desperately, “You have to find a witch! A wizard! There has got to be someone here who knows how to send me home. There’s always some magical type… person who inhabits enchanted animated movies that knows how to help!” I pulled his shirt out then slammed it back in and kept going. “You have to find someone to help. I have to go home. I have to.”

His body grew rock solid against mine but I was too far gone to notice and kept right on babbling.

“They hate me, God! You cannot imagine how much. The other Cora was a bitch!” I screeched the last two words at the top of my lungs. “And I like you. Your world is so beautiful. And you saved Aggie for me. And last night was so… so…” I hiccoughed through my sobs, “good. The best I’ve ever had by, like…” I couldn’t find words to describe how much so I shouted, “A lot! I don’t want to have it once then have to let it go.” I slammed his shirt into his chest and kept wailing, “I told you we shouldn’t do it! Now, forever and ever I’ll remember what we had and want it again and I’ll never have it!” My sobs turned to anger and I yelled, “See! I knew! I tried to tell you but would you listen? No! You jerk!”