He Chose Her, I Closed the Portal

In the 32nd year of the Kingdom of Eldoria, Oliver Whitmore officially ascended to the throne as king, and was set to enter a royal marriage contract with Eleanor Harrington, the hereditary duchess. Yet Emily, the woman who had crossed time and space to stand by his side for ten years, who had fought tooth and nail to help him secure his seat on the throne, was handed a public royal edict from him, ordering her to marry a gaunt, past-his-prime royal manservant. ***** "Emily, Servant Edward is up in years, way past the age of having children. You don't have to force yourself to put on a loving front with him, let alone bear his kids." Inside the side hall overlooking the lake, Oliver's tone was as casual as if he were chatting about afternoon tea pastries, carelessly sealing Emily's fate with this marriage. "Emily, I don't want Eleanor to hold any hard feelings. Arranging for you to marry Servant Edward is the safest, most sensible option." Watching him frame every single word around what was best for another woman, Emily felt a searing, tearing pain rip through her chest, as if warm blood was gushing out of the wound nonstop. Still, she forced a careless, unbothered smile onto her face and asked in return, "Oliver, you're the ruler of this country now. Since you're personally issuing this marriage edict, how generous of a betrothal gift are you planning to give me?" A flicker of scorn darted across Oliver's eyes, gone so fast it was almost unnoticeable. "You've been by my side for ten years, and you're the mother of my two children. I'd never treat you badly, of course. I'll arrange a betrothal gift fit for a marquis. 388 carts of gilded gift boxes, all checked and prepared by me personally. You'll get to marry him in style." Oliver then stood up, his fingertips brushing lightly across Emily's cheek, his voice as soft and warm as a spring breeze. "Emily, I still remember everything. How you popped up out of nowhere in front of me all those years ago, softly said you'd come all this way just for me, that you only wanted me to be happy in everything I do. I promise you, you won't have to stare at Edward's old, wrinkled face forever. Once Eleanor has completely let go of her grudge against you, I'll let you annul your marriage to him." Emily stared at the face so close to hers, and ten years' worth of memories came flooding unbidden into her mind. When they first met, she'd looked at the stunned Oliver and grinned bright and unapologetic. "I'm Emily. I come from a world hundreds of years in the future, and I'm here specifically for you." When they were head over heels in love, she'd dragged Oliver up the highest mountain in the kingdom and yelled her promise out across the vast open wilderness. "In this lifetime, my heart will never change. Every sunrise and every sunset, I'll choose you and only you." The night they'd secretly pledged themselves to each other, he'd cast all stuffy aristocratic etiquette aside, flipped the lace veil off her head right there, lifted the flushing, shy Emily up and spun her around in circles as he said, "Emily, from now on, you're my wife." Memory after memory flooded her mind, sharp as razor-tipped arrows, piercing through Emily's chest again and again. All that was left was a searing, bone-deep agony that left her cold to the core. She dropped her gaze, forcing down the bitter, stinging heartache that roiled in her gut. "Emily abides by His Majesty the King's edict." Oliver turned and left, perfectly pleased with her response. Emily sat on the icy marble floor alone, staring blankly at the palace doors. Her parents had died when she was little, so she'd grown up relying entirely on her grandmother. The old woman had doted on her more than anything, but she'd had one ironclad rule that was never to be broken. Emily was never, under any circumstances, to set foot in the study of their old family home. When her grandmother was on her deathbed, she'd clutched Emily's hand so tight her knuckles turned white, and repeated the warning over and over. "Emily, promise me. Don't ever go into the study." But curiosity always gets the better of people. A year after her grandmother passed, Emily finally caved. She pushed open the heavy wooden door to the study. Inside, an entire wall of bookshelves was crammed with ancient texts, all recording the history of the Kingdom of Eldoria, a dynasty that didn't exist in the real world. But the study's biggest secret was a strange door, a portal that led straight to the Kingdom of Eldoria. Emily pushed that door open and stepped into that strange world of nobles and royalty. The first person she met there was Oliver. He was the only man she'd ever fallen for, the only one she'd given every last part of herself to. She'd never imagined that the lifelong future together she'd dreamed of would fizzle out after just ten years. Emily clapped a hand over her chest. It felt like a sharp knife had been driven straight through her heart. Pressing it sent searing pain through her, and yanking it out would tear her apart just as badly. "Get out of my way, you useless lowlifes! How dare a bunch of male servants block a prince?" Emily lifted her head. An eight-year-old boy stormed into the room, seething with rage. He was dressed in a fine velvet suit, a tiny gem-encrusted crown perched on his head, and he was glowering at her with absolute fury written all over his face. "His Majesty the King said you turned down a respectable position as the royal consort just to sign a marriage contract with some old male servant! Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" Emily stared calmly at her eldest son. "William, I taught you before not to jump to conclusions based on only one side of the story." William's face flushed bright red with anger. "My father is kind and gentle, he would never lie to me! You're the one who's a suspicious freak with no family or background. Why would I ever trust you?" Emily's eyes widened slightly. She lifted a finger to point at herself, her voice barely more than a whisper. "A freak? You're talking about me?" "You're the only person on the entire continent without a noble household registration! No family, no roots, all alone! What else would you be if not a freak?" The words twisted the blade already buried in her chest another cruel inch deeper, but when the pain hit its absolute peak, she could no longer feel that biting, bone-deep agony. Instead, she slowly tugged the corners of her mouth into a pale, bitter smile. Yeah, it was true. In this whole wide world, no one had ever put Emily first, not fully, not unconditionally. After her grandma passed, all she'd ever fought for, all she'd ever wanted, was a love that was hers and hers alone. That was why she'd leapt across time and space, left all the conveniences of modern life behind, and thrown herself headfirst into the dirty, brutal fights for the royal throne. She'd never asked for anything fancy, just someone who would love her for real. After all she'd given up, this was the thanks she got. The man she'd loved with everything she had had forced her to marry a stranger, all to make things easier for his new noble fiancée. And her own flesh and blood had just called her a freak to her face. Emily tilted her head up to stare at the ornate painted dome overhead, forcing back the sharp, burning heat stinging at her eyes. She wouldn't let anyone see her eyes go red, not a soul. "William, before long, you won't have a mother that people call a freak anymore." William turned his head away, his face twisted with disgust. "Quit moping and putting on that poor little victim act to get people to feel bad for you!" Emily listened to the click-clack of the boy's formal dress shoes fade down the hall, then dropped her gaze to the main castle hall, already swallowed up by the deepening night. No one else knew it, but hidden deep in the very heart of that hall was a portal. All she had to do was yank it open and step through, and she'd be home.