Dragged Into Another World By The Obsessive Villain

Dinner was served promptly, plates of roasted game and carefully arranged vegetables were laid out before them by the servants. Elara's eyes darted to each dish, amazed by the exquisite placement. She'd never gone to any fancy restaurants before. In fact, the most fancy she'd ever gotten was The Cheesecake Factory. So seeing such artistically placed food served on such fine plates was really a treat for her eyes.

I wish I had my phone. I'd love to take a picture of this.

She reached for her fork, but Caspian gently brushed her hand away.

"Allow me," he said softly, taking her fork and knife and cutting a piece of roast before holding it out to her. Her mind blanked as she stared at him, her lips parted in utter surprise. She glanced over at the servants, all of them blatantly staring, and her cheeks heated as she leaned forward and took the bite, her face aflame. The food was rich and savory, but the intensity of Caspian's gaze made it difficult to enjoy it.

My heart can't take this. I mean, am I happy to be doing this with Husband Number One, of course I am, but it's so embarrassing I might actually die.

When she swallowed, he leaned back, seeming oddly content with her reaction. "We wouldn't want you to tire yourself."

Allowing the hint of boldness to take over she said, "If you continue doing this, I might never leave."

His lips quirked up into a smile. "That would be a most fortunate outcome for me."

Just when she was sure her cheeks couldn't burn anymore, they did. The intensity of Caspian's gaze reminded her a lot of the way he'd looked at her when he'd summoned her yesterday. Like she was a mystery he simply couldn't put his finger on. 

She shot another glance at the servants lining the wall, each with expressions that ranged from mild astonishment to carefully concealed curiosity. She didn't fault them. She knew how out of character this was for Caspian. Actually, his cold, unapproachable demeanor had been part of the appeal that had drawn Elara to him.

They continued on with their meal, occasionally exchanging words about the day they'd had. There was something so mind-numbingly normal about it all. He told her of how he'd spent the vast majority of the day in his office, catching up on all the duties he'd missed out on on the day he was gone. Despite the short break he'd taken, the documents that needed to be signed and the policies that needed approval had almost tripled. He told her of the new knights applying to join his charge, squires seeking the approval and the honor that came with serving as Grand Duke Caspian's knight.

"And at the beginning of the week, we will begin our journey to the capital," he was saying during the second course, carefully scooping soup into his spoon. "But before then, I would like it very much if you're as comfortable and settled as possible. I'll call a dressmaker for you, a shoemaker, and a jeweler, too. Think nothing of cost and pick only what you like."

After dessert--a tart that was both sweet and fragrant with hints of citrus--she watched as Caspian stood smoothly and held out his hand to her, "Shall I lead you to your chambers?"

"Yes." It came out nearly inaudible so she cleared her throat and said again, "Yes, I'd like that." And she placed her hand in his. Once she had risen, he looped her arm through his and the two of them left together.

She glanced at him the whole time, searching for any sign that this might be difficult for him or he found it annoying, but his face remained smooth as ever. He stopped only when he'd led her to her room. He took her hand in his and placed a kiss on the back of it, his lips pillowy in their softness, and looked up at her through his surprisingly long lashes.

"Good night, Elara," he said, his lips brushing against her hand.

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Elara sank deeper into her bath, her hair blooming around her like flowers around their vines come summer. All of her tension from the day released and she could hardly believe so much had happened in such a short period of time. Just yesterday, she'd been summoned into a new world and now she was in Grand Duke Caspian Isyndor's castle in Chirondale and had agreed to pretend to be his lover and aid him in achieving a better ending.

The more she thought about it, the more surreal it seemed.

Maybe this'll all disappear when I wake up, she thought.

But as she gazed around the stunning decor of her room's bathroom, she knew that wasn't the case. She'd thought the same thing last night only to wake and find herself in The Moonlit Stag.

Unbidden, thoughts of Caspian lifting her hand with a type of elegance that was lost to men in her world a long time ago and placing a feather-light kiss along her knuckles came to her. His eyes, framed by long lashes, flicked up at her, their steel-colored depths smoldering.

The memory sent a warm flutter through her chest and she sank lower into the water, as if it could stop the feelings coursing through her.

This was Caspian. She had to get and keep ahold of herself. It wouldn't do to get swept away. They were acting. Fooling the servants first so that, when it came time to meet the king and queen in a few days, not only would they come off as natural because they'd already grown somewhat comfortable with pretending, but rumors of him being completely infatuated with her will have spread through Chirondale and to the capital by the time they arrived. 

After all, she knew Lyanna had sources planted in Chirondale who wrote her of Caspian's movements.

It wouldn't do for her to behave like a teenager experiencing their first love every time he touched her. She had to be prepared for physical contact. Who knew how far they'd have to go to convince Lyanna they were a real thing? 

No way in hell Lyanna doesn't try to push us, just to see how we'll react.

And when the time came that she did, the two of them had to be ready to deal with it. When that happened, Elara couldn't crumble like she was doing now. Even if he was her favorite character, even if he was Husband Number One, she couldn't let herself bend like this.

Her bathwater cooled as she closed her eyes and leaned back, but she didn't mind. Caspian wasn't something she could actually hope to touch. She loved him, of course he did. He meant more to her than he could ever possibly realize. But she couldn't be in love with him.

Maybe, as they worked to overturn Lyanna and the king's schemes, she might help him find a nice woman. Someone like Duke and Duchess Carlisle's daughter, Francesca. She was a nice enough woman. In the novels, she always had kind words to say whenever the Grand Duke was concerned. Actually, she was the only one who never spoke ill of him.

Whatever she decided, she knew she could and would never let herself fall for him. After all, when all of this was done, she'd be going back to her own world. Her time here would be an odd occurrence that, as time passed, she'd be unable to tell if it was a true experience or a long, strangely realistic dream.

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Muted rays of sunlight filtered through the silken folds of her canopy as she stretched and yawned. Sure enough, she was still in the Grand Duke's castle in Chirondale.

Crisseda, the culprit behind the opening of her drapes, rushed over to her. The room was filled with servants, all running around completing different tasks.

"Good morning, miss," Crisseda said, curtsying. "His Grace has requested you break your fast together. Your bath has already been prepared. I wasn't sure which scented oil you'd like, so I added dawnpetal and jasmine as they complement each other well." As she spoke, she was helping Elara out of bed and all but shooing her into the bathroom. "Take your time, miss. We'll help you dress when you're ready." And then she closed the door of the bathroom, leaving a still groggy Elara standing there confused.

After she'd finished with her bath--which smelled heavenly--she rose, the scent of jasmine and dawnpetal on her skin. The demure muted notes of the dawnpetal really did go together with the wild, musky scent of jasmine as Crisseda had said. New undergarments and a robe were sitting on a towel rack, and she put them on before heading back into her room.

Crisseda and two other maids all but rushed her when she came out. One began untangling her curls while Crisseda and the other one helped her into a new dress. This one was emerald green and hugged her figure just as nicely as the one she'd worn yesterday, but this one was leagues better than the one she'd worn yesterday. As Crisseda laced up the back of the dress, she truly felt like a noblewoman in some medieval fantasy. Her dark curls were tied up and away from her face, exposing the smooth brown skin of her slender throat.

Looking at herself, she felt she looked the part of the Grand Duke's companion.

After she was dressed, Crisseda led her to the dining hall again. Like yesterday, Caspian rose when she entered, his gaze flickering over her in unmistakable approval.

"Good morning, Elara. How did you sleep?"

She smiled, taking the seat he held out for her. "Like a baby," she said, and it was true. Her bed had been so soft and the sheets and her duvet had been so pillowy that she'd felt as if she were sleeping on a cloud.

He grinned. "That's nice to hear."

A maid rushed forward and poured her a cup of tea as Caspian said, "I've called a dressmaker for you," conversationally as if he were giving her a weather forecast. "She has a good reputation and her quality is something I'd swear by. You're lovely in dresses purchased from merchants, but you deserve something far more deserving of your beauty."

Elara flushed and thanked him.

Breakfast passed in comfortable conversation. It felt a little less charged today than it had yesterday. Maybe it was because of all the sunlight filtering in from overhead eliminating the need for candles. In the light of day, Elara felt like she could keep herself composed far better than she had last night.

Once they'd finished eating and were just sipping tea and chatting, Crisseda showed up in the doorway, announcing the dressmaker's arrival. Caspian inclined his head toward her, his smile deceptively warm. "You should go. You wouldn't want to keep her waiting. I have engagements of my own."

The two of them parted ways, and the Grand Duke promised he would finish his work on time to eat dinner together. Elara followed Crisseda to a sitting room where a woman was waiting. She was dark-skinned and dark-haired with eyes the color of turquoise. She had a shrewd, sharp face and a confident air. Everything about her, even down to the way she dressed, implied she was a woman with high standards in all regards of life and she was very used to those standards being met.

The woman glanced up as they entered, her gaze narrowing slightly as she took Elara in and she stood up. Elara couldn't help but feel a tad intimidated as the woman swept over Elara's dress with shrewd eyes before she curtsied.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss. Elara, I am Madame Faylan. It's an honor to serve you."

"Nice to meet y--" Elara stopped and gaped at the woman. "Wait, did you say you're Madame Faylan?"

Madame Faylan's eyebrows quirked at Elara's odd response. "I am."

"Like the Madame Faylan?"

"There's no other."

Elara gaped at her. Because, shit, Caspian hadn't hired just a dressmaker. He'd hired Madame Faylan, the best dressmaker in all of Isyndor.