Page 29 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
“It must have happened in the marketplace,” Kit said behind them.
Brendon glanced at her. “You saw it happen?”
“No, but he didn’t have a bite before we left, and he went off onhis own to speak with someone for a while. It probably happened then.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” Francesca demanded. The bliss of their evening together could not withstand the fury of seeing her younger brother injured.
“I didn’t exactly know how to bring it up. All I saw was that he was upset after he came back to me, and that he was sweating profusely after we returned to the castle. For all I knew, he was just out of shape!”
“Whatever,” Brendon said, “we need to find a way to cure him before he loses that hand.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Kit said, her voice low and filled with regret.
Brendon refused to accept that because this was a comedy, dammit. “What about the Good Wizard? Has he arrived yet?”
Francesca shook her head. “He’s not supposed to arrive until tomorrow.”
“Do you have any health potions or anything that could help him?”
“Maybe,” she said. “I’ll go check our supplies.”
“Go with her,” Brendon ordered, waving Kit off.
She hesitated. “What did you mean, he locked you in a tower?”
He glared at her. “Do you really thinknowis the time to discuss that?”
She bit her lip, then shook her head and obediently ran after Francesca.
Once he was alone, he tried the only thing he could think of. History books were filled with stories from the time before the defense spell, and a kiss always woke the sleeping princesses—or in this case, prince. Running his hands through Rick’s sweaty, greasy hair, Brendon lowered his head and muttered, “Sorry that I can’t ask permission,” and pressed his lips to Rick’s. They felt like two dead slugs under his, decidedly unromantic.
Nothing happened.
Well, it wasn’t exactly true love’s kiss, but he’d really hoped that ‘mild aggravating affection’ would be enough to cure some mysterious, evil ailment. At least he’d sent the others away before the attempt, or he would have been extra embarrassed when it didn’t work.
A puff of purple smoke appeared before him. It clouded his vision and clogged his nose and mouth, and he gagged on the acrid taste.
A high-pitched voice exclaimed, “Thereyou are, slippery bastard!”
Thinking some evil fiend was taking an opportunity to attack,Brendon blindly lashed out. “What do you want?” he asked, then coughed horrendously as the smoke burned his throat.
“Stupid prince. Stupid antivenom. Stupid job. I should quit, see how he does without me to run his errands,” the voice muttered in irritation. After a few minutes, someone else gasped and choked, and then a hand wildly clasped Brendon’s wrist.
The purple smoke slowly cleared, and Brendon saw Rick gazing up at him, pupils huge. The hand that gripped him was still slightly swollen, but the small puncture wounds were closing before his eyes. Brendon relaxed and grinned down at Rick. “Feeling better?”
Rick muttered something unintelligible. Brendon leaned down to hear him and Rick’s hand shot up, fingers twisting through Brendon’s hair. “You’re pretty.”
Brendon stared at him in shock. “What?”
“You’re so pretty,” Rick slurred, tugging until Brendon’s face was barely an inch from his.
He didn’t know if it was an improvement or not. With every passing second, the wound looked better, but before, Rick had just acted like a little kid in pain. Now he seemed almost drunk.
“Yes, yes, I’m pretty,” Brendon muttered, trying to disentangle Rick’s fingers.
“Nooo, doooon’t.” Rick clung onto him, crying softly. “Don’t go.”
“I’m not going anywhere; this is just an extremely uncomfortable position.”
