It’s Day 3 of Klonnie Weekend, and the prompt is “Arranged Marriage!” Inspired by Queen Charlotte, Bonnie's already planning her escape from a marriage she never wanted. But when she runs into a handsome stranger in the garden, things take an unexpected turn.
The gown was too tight, the jewels too heavy, and the garden wall far higher than it looked. Bonnie hiked up her skirts, braced her foot on the ivy, and scrambled over with a graceless thud into the grass below. She ran away from the palace, the altar, and the judgmental eyes of the court.
Then, from the hedges, a figure emerged. He wasn’t a guard. Or a royal. Just boots, an open shirt, and eyes that watched her in confusion.
“Forgive me,” Bonnie said breathlessly. “Are you lost?”
The man chuckled. “That depends. Are you offering directions or looking for a companion?”
“I’m offering nothing.” She narrowed her eyes. “Unless you know of any women nearby willing to take my place.”
“In this gown. At that altar. In that life.”
The man looked her up and down, slowly. “Doubtful.”
“I doubt any woman would look half as good in that gown as you do. A beautiful woman,” he said, “is not so easily replaced.”
Bonnie was startled by his flattery. “That’s not even the point!”
He smirked. “Oh, forgive me. What is the point?”
“This was never supposed to be my wedding. Or marriage. My mother left years ago—fled the country, left her debts behind. And now I’m the one meant to pay for it all. With this.” She gestured to the palace behind them.
“I see,” the man said quietly.
“You’re handsome,” Bonnie said bluntly. “Surely you know women—young women—who would gladly marry a king.”
“Most women,” he said, “would give anything to be a queen.”
“Well, I don’t care for titles.” She crossed her arms.
“Strange sentiment. Why do you care so little for power?”
“Because I’d rather have freedom.”
He tilted his head. “And where have you not been free?”
Bonnie sighed. “Everywhere. My entire life, I’ve been the one who cares. Who gives. Who cleans up. Who stays behind. Now I’m meant to marry a man I’ve never met, live for him, breathe for him, bear his children, and what do I get in return? Nothing. I don’t know anyone here. I have no allies. No way out.”
She took a breath. “Running away is an act of treason. But staying feels worse.”
The man folded his arms, thoughtful. “Power,” he said, “is freedom. You could have anything you wanted. No one would force you to do anything. Not as queen.”
She looked at him. “And what if the king doesn’t agree with what I want?”
He gave her a crooked smile. “Then the king would be a fool.”
That startled a laugh out of her.
“You’re kind,” she said. “But it’s still a terrible idea to go back.”
“There has to be another woman who’d take this life. This crown.” She looked at him. “What do you think of the name McCullough?”
“Or Annie. Annie McCullough. I’ll need a new name if I’m to disappear. Something… plain. Easy to forget. I’ll have to be comfortable never seeing my family again.”
“It’s a fine name,” he said carefully. “But not as fine as Bonnie Bennett.”
She smiled, barely. “You like alliteration?”
“Shame,” she said, voice quieter. “I don’t want there to be a wedding. I’ve heard things about the groom.”
He arched a brow. “Things?”
“Terrible rumors. That he’s cruel. Cold. Aggressive.”
She nodded. “He might be a monster.”
“Mm,” he said. “He might.”
“You already know my name. Shouldn’t I know yours?”
He hesitated—just for a moment. Then offered a hand.
“Klaus,” he said. “But you can call me Nik. Just Nik.”
Bonnie took his hand, and he placed a kiss upon her knuckles.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For the kindness. I know I’m… dramatic.”
He bowed his head. “Not at all. It’s not every day a beautiful woman runs away from marrying me.”
Bonnie stiffened. “What?”
“I mean,” Nik added casually, “a mere hour before the ceremony, no less. Very theatrical.”
Her mouth opened. Closed. “I—what?”
He smiled wider now, teeth flashing. “Cold feet, was it?”
She gasped, face flooding with heat. “I didn’t mean—I was joking! I mean—of course I wasn’t really leaving. That would be treason! Beheadable treason!”
Nik chuckled. “Relax, darling. You weren’t wrong. Most people are terrified of me.”
She stared at him. “So… you’re the king.”
“And you let me ramble about fake names and treason?”
“I liked hearing what you had to say.”
“Because you didn’t speak to me like a king.” His gaze softened. “You spoke like someone who wanted something real.”
She examined him with uncertainty. “And what do you want?”
“Someone who challenges me,” Nik said. “Someone who doesn’t bow unless she damn well chooses to. Someone who tells me when I’m being a nightmare.”
Bonnie studied him. “You might regret saying that.”
“I might,” he agreed. “But I don’t think I will.”