My Lady's Choosing: An Interactive Romance Novel(47)

“I did! With physical proof, too!” says Henrietta, her voice wavering slightly but her expression mutinous. You exchange shocked glances with Benedict and stand shoulder to shoulder with Henrietta. She barely needs the protection.

“I don’t care what you do to me anymore!” she cries. “All I care is that Benny and his true love are happy!”

“You—you little bi—” wails Cad before being cut off.

“It’s over, Cad,” Benedict says with frigid calm. “Get out.”

Cad hesitates for a minute, looking at each of you before turning tail and fleeing, never to be seen again.

Lady Evangeline gives a round of applause and then embraces Henrietta.

“Well done, my dear,” she says to the wide-eyed young woman. “You know, if it doesn’t work out with your young farmer, you would be very welcome to accompany me on my travels to Egypt…”

As Henrietta decides her fate, you barely notice, for you have already decided yours. Benedict grins, his dark hair falling into his silver-gray eyes, now clouded with desire.

“What say you to getting the banns published today?” he says to you. “I don’t particularly wish to wait any longer to be married, do you?”

You grin back.

“I think you are being exceptionally cocky, Sir Benedict, assuming that I even wish to be married to you.”

“Oh, you know,” Benedict says as he leans in and whispers into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, “I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”

“Then persuade me,” you whisper back.

Benedict doesn’t answer, but instead pulls you behind a convenient pillar.

Within seconds you find yourself extremely convinced.

The End





“Vincit qui se vincit!” you find yourself yelling to the small child.

“Vincit qui se vincit!” he yells back even louder, and then quickly breaks into fits of giggles. You both laugh and roll about the floor, which only makes him laugh harder. It warms your heart to make him happy.

“What have you taught me, miss?” he squeaks out. “It sounds like a magic spell!”

“It is a magic spell, in a way,” you say. “It is Latin, an old language that hides underneath all of our new language, breathing life into it, giving it form. The words of the spell mean, ‘He who conquers himself, conquers all he wishes.’?”

Alexander scowls. “That sounds like it means you need to behave in order to be strong.”

“In a way,” you say. “It also means you must know, and conquer, what is in you that needs conquering to be able to stand strong against anything that might come your way.”

“So I can be a hero?” Alexander asks, intensely skeptical.

“Of course,” you answer, pleased with how motivational you are being until you notice the tears in his eyes.

“Mama said I wasn’t strong.” A tear slips down his face. “Mama said I was silly and bad, and that life was better before I came.”

You reach out to comfort the sniffling child, only for him to flinch. “I’m sure Mama didn’t mean that, darling. Mamas love their babies—”

“Not all mamas!” Alexander shrieks, his eyes now pouring tears. “Mama didn’t love me! She said I ruined everything and she dreamed of killing me in my sleep! And Mama said…Mama said…” He flings himself into your arms. “Mama said I would never be a hero,” he whispers. Your eyes lift to meet the taunting gaze of yet another portrait of the late Blanche Craven, née von Badwolff.

“Sometimes,” you say carefully, “mamas are wrong. Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” Alexander wipes the tears from his eyes.

“To be heroes, of course.”





Time to learn some fencing, fools! Turn to this page.





As Fabien momentarily releases your hands, you seize the opportunity as viciously as your captors have seized you. You half dismount, half tumble off the camel, punch Fabien’s pretty face, then kick sand at his already streaming eyes, and flee.

Another henchman tries to tackle you. You duck, then knee him in an area that is sure to have him singing soprano for the foreseeable future. As he collapses to the ground, screaming, you grab one of the camels by the reins and attempt to swing yourself into the saddle.

Fabien’s hands firmly grasp your waist and pull you off the grunting creature. Kicking and screaming, you both tumble to the ground. Fabien throws his well-muscled limbs around you and murmurs in your ear.

“Do not be stupid, chérie. I would hate to have to restrain you any more than is necessary. But believe me, I will do what I must bring you to my employer.” He binds your wrists.

You spit in his face. He laughs.

“You have spirit. I like that.” And with that he hauls you onto the camel and onward to Delphine.





What, did you actually think you could fight off four enormous henchmen single-handed? Come on now. Think of a better plan and turn to this page.





That evening, you wait in the eldritch garden for the handsome vicar, your bosom heaving in anticipation. Something hangs in the air tonight. Something seething…and unwholesome.