Page 23 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
Cyril dropped the imp and stroked his chin in thought. “Royalty, hmm? Did you catch his name?”
“Ricky or something like that.”
Since Cyril had always thought the Desolated Lands were, well, desolated, he’d never paid attention to the names of their royalty, but he remembered his wife mentioning Prince Frederick of Woe during the carriage ride. “Was it the groom?”
“I don’t know. He was arguing with another man. It sounded like they’d broken up recently.”
“That makes sense. If he’s going to get married, he’d have to break it off with any lovers before the wedding, at least for a little while.”
Several evil mages took on paramours outside of their marriage. Not Cyril though. Aside from being genuinely in love with his wife, he would quite like to keep his balls in pristine condition. Her nicknames might range everywhere from ‘cookie’ to ‘darling,’ but before they’d married, she had apprenticed under a hag titled ‘The Devourer of Men’ whose reputation was quite literal. His wife had given up the life of evil for him—otherwise they would never get to see each other—and he valued her sacrifice, but he would never forget her origins.
“We can’t have the wedding canceled.” His wife would never forgive him. Besides, being an evil mage required a sense of showmanship. If anyone was going to ruin the wedding, it would behim, and he’d do it at the most crucial moment—right before the couple said their vows and sealed their union with a kiss. “Take this and give it to the man you bit,” he ordered, handing the imp a vial of antivenom. Any evil mage who worked with imps knew to keep half-a-dozen on hand.
The imp glowered at it. “Do I have to?”
Damned brat was getting less obedient by the moment. Cyril might have to call in a higher-level minion. “You’re the one who bit him without my permission; now you have to take responsibility for it.”
The imp snatched the bottle from him and stuffed it into its bottomless pockets. Before it popped out of existence, it narrowed its eyes and asked, “What if I can’t find him in time?”
“See that you do,” Cyril replied sternly. “Butdon’tget caught again.”
“Sweetie? Who are you talking to?” his wife called from the doorway.
The imp disappeared and Cyril hastily lowered his hood, hurrying back to his wife to sweep her into his arms and kiss her in a way thatwould hopefully make her forget her question. “All done, my dear? Are you ready to continue?”
Her eyes darkened with desire, and she wrapped her hands in his collar. “Oh, I’m ready to continue,” she said, her voice low and husky. She dragged him to the carriage, grinning as they prepared for a bumpy ride.
Chapter Ten
I found Kit with a stack of books in their arms so high that, if they weren’t the only person wearing full armor in this marketplace, I wouldn’t have seen them. “What are you doing?”
A muffled voice emerged from the bookstack. Sighing, I took the top five from them and rephrased. “Why did you get somany?” Andhowdid they get so many? Where had they hidden the purse? Did they somehow get it all on credit? If I was a store owner, I certainly would not extend a line of credit to someone in armor and a fox mask. That was asking to be cursed, enchanted, or otherwise magically inconvenienced. It wasn’t safe just because our kingdom had been purged of evil—aside from the imp, who for all I knew was a complete and total coincidence. The little blighter didn’tseemlike he had a heart as black as the bottom of the ocean. Gray was more likely. Maybe he had gotten into the kingdom because he truly meant no harm and just wanted to watch relationship drama unfold like a bad play.
I shook my head, forcing myself to stay on track and pay attention to Kit’s response.
“I couldn’t choose just one,” they explained, sounding as sheepish as a fox could.
“Then what about two? Or three? Or any number other than a dozen?”
“Because it’s a series,” they explained, dumping all but one of thebooks into my arms. My injured hand twinged but I managed to hold onto the stack. They held up the book and waved it in my face so I couldn’t even read the title. “What if she reads the first one all in one night and immediately wants the second? This author is terrible about cliffhangers.”
“And what if she’s already read some of them?” I countered.
“She hasn’t,” Kit replied, almost offhand, as if having that sort of knowledge of my sister was perfectly reasonable.
“Well, whatever, let’s head back to the castle.”
“Oh, are you done with your shopping?”
I froze, the weight in my arms dragging me down.Fuck.I had completely forgotten that the entire reason I’d come out here had been to get something for Brandan to wear. I shoved the books back into Kit’s arms and said, “Wait here.”
Instead of listening to me, Kit followed me the rest of the way to Madame Trousers’ Everyday Casual Wear and Occasional Day Formal Wear.
“Rick, darling!” a woman exclaimed as she bustled out from the counter. “It’s been absolute ages since I last saw you.” She managed to out-height both Kit and me by a few inches, and she had to stoop to kiss both of my cheeks. Turning to Kit, she added, “I see you’ve already done quite a bit of shopping today! Come, come, put those right here on the counter, we can’t have your arms full when we’re taking measurements!”
“Measurements?” Kit asked, a bit dazed as the books were swept from their hands. “No, I’m not the one shopping today—Rick is.”
Since Kit and Brandan were the same size, it’d be more useful to use their measurements than mine. “Madame Trouser likes to have everyone’s measurements on file, just in case,” I said lightly.
