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The King's Wives Chronicles

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King's Wives Chronicles, Volume 15


Dear Mom,

I know you won't ever receive this letter. I'm locked underground, and up there you're probably going crazy looking for me. Mom, I'm alive. You've probably almost given up that hope now. You probably just want to bring my killer to justice, the man who caused me to disappear that October night. But in your heart, you still hope that I'm alive somewhere.

Mom, I'm alive, but you'll never know.

Mom, I love you and I wish that I could see you one more time. I want to stop you from suffering over me. I want your pain to go away.

But what I really want is for you to send someone to rescue me.

I know that no one is coming to rescue me. No one is going to let me out, and no one will ever find me. I'll die here, in this strange twilight land.

Mom, I miss you.

Love, Megan


She locked herself in the bathroom the night she got married.

Her husband hadn't been expecting that. One moment they had been talking calmly, or more correctly he had been talking and she had been ignoring him, then the next she had grabbed a pillow and a blanket and locked herself in the bathroom.

Marriage is a bit tough when you're the goblin king. Especially since your bride hadn't been expecting to marry you that day; in fact, she hadn't been expecting to marry Marak at all. One moment she had been walking to her college dorm, the next, she was waking up in a tiny room underground, with a demon who informed her she was marrying him.

In the bathroom, Megan piled up every piece of furniture she could find against the door. She then curled up in the corner farthest away from the door, wrapped herself in the blanket, and went to sleep.

She made a point of not talking to him. She talked to almost every other goblin she saw; she learned their names and their children's names, and their favorite games and everything they wanted to tell her. But whenever he said something to her, she just gave him a blank stare, looking at him like he was slightly crazy.

She didn't bother to learn anything about him. When talking about him to the other brides, she referred to him as "that crowny guy," a name that made everyone else nervous. They quickly stopped asking questions.

She never said his name. Eventually, her constant talking with the guards and her silence with him caused his anger and irritation to rise to boiling point.

"What kind of marriage is this, where neither of us say anything to the other?" he yelled one day, at the door.

Megan looked up from the book she was reading and sighed. "It's not," she replied.

Marak turned around in surprise as she spoke to him, then stopped. "Of course we're married, what do you think that means?" he asked, pointing at the golden snake around her neck.

"According to you, it means we're married," said Megan. "That's your social values. But if you can impose your social values on me, that means I can do the same to you. And unless you can produce a certificate of marriage signed by a judge, we're not married."

"And if I got one, would that satisfy you?" snapped Marak.

"Of course not," said Megan quietly. "This is a forced psuedo-marriage. It isn't legal at all. If I went to the police, you would be arrested right away." She frowned. "I was going to be a lawyer you know. You need to be more of a people person."

"A people person?" laughed Marak bitterly.

"I can see you'll be no use," said Megan. "Good night." She got up to lock herself in the bathroom again, but Marak beat her to the door.

"You're not locking yourself in there again," he said.

"Fine then." Megan grabbed a blanket from a drawer, curled up on a chair and closed her eyes. When Marak woke up in the morning, she was gone from the chair. And the bathroom door was locked.