Page 12 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
He finally released me. When I stood up, my knees wobbled a little. Purely from relief to be away from him, of course. I straightened my waistcoat and tucked the loose edges of my shirt more firmly into my pants before turning to face him. In that time, he’d put as much distance between us as the little kitchen allowed.
“So,” he said, crossing his arms, “I’m at your mercy. What do you want in exchange to release me? A promise that I won’t cheat on your sister?”
I snorted. He and Franny could probably work out a deal where they both pursued whoever they wanted. Honestly, their bigger problem would probably be competing for the same ladies.
His face darkened. “Whatever you’ve heard, Icanbe faithful.”
Apparently, he’d interpreted my snort as doubt in him. “I believe you,” I replied solemnly.
“Then what is theproblem?”
“You see, Brandan—”
“Brendon.”
“Sorry, right, it’s just—” I paused. The silence stretched between us as I tried to articulate my reasons. “I want her to be able to marry for love. Not because of some spell.”
He ran his hand over his face, stretching his eyes out in a weird way. “Don’t you think we all want that? But the defense spell is the only thing keeping the Desolated Lands from, you know, becoming actually desolated.”
“Do you have a sister?” I asked. “Or a female cousin? Someone else who could fulfill the conditions?”
He looked at me oddly for a moment, then rolled his eyes. “What, you want to take your sister’s place?”
“I could,” I said quietly.
“So, your sister deserves to marry for love, but you don’t? My hypothetical cousins don’t?”
I didn’t have a reply for that.
He sighed. “No sister, no cousins. Not from Bane, anyway.”
Since he was answering my questions willingly, I asked, “What about a brother?” Maybe that was who had come in the suit of armor.
His lips pressed into a thin line. “So, the problemisme? As long as it’s not me, the marriage can go through?”
“No!” If a man would have worked, Franny could do a lot worse than Brendon. “It’s just, someone arrived at the castle wearing a full suit of armor claiming to be you.”
“Oh, that would be Kit.”
The quick answer shocked me—he didn’t even have to think about it. “Who’s Kit?” I remembered hearing that name last night.
“My bodyguard.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Part of their job is to act as my stand-in during dangerous situations. We kind of look alike, from a distance, so they’resupposedto be the ones who are attacked or kidnapped in my stead.”
“They did a shit job.”
“No one expected theprincessto kidnap me.” Scowling, he added, “And you weren’t even the real princess.”
“There’s a lot of that going around.”
Brendon snorted, then looked disgusted by his own amusement. “Anyway, if you planned on embarrassing me and blaming Bane for the lapse in the spell by making it look likeIwas the one with cold feet, it’s not going to work.” He walked past me into the main room and flopped onto the couch, covering his eyes with his arm.
“What are you doing?” I asked. He looked so … defeated. I wasn’t trying to demoralize him, I just wanted Fran to be happy.
“I’m tired of looking at you, Not Fred.”
“Rick,” I muttered.
He ignored me. “Why don’t you go back to the castle and leave me alone? Since you’re not going to let me out anyway.”
