Page 30 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
“’S not fair,” Rick cried, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“What’s not fair?”
“All of it.”
Well, that cleared things up.
“I don’t want you to marry her.”
Brendon’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Yes, everyone has made that abundantly clear, but I don’t know what other choice we have.”
Rick sobbed softly and curled into a ball, pressing as much of his body against Brendon’s as possible. “Me.”
“You what?”
“Why can’t it be me?”
“Why can’twhatbe you?”
Brendon never got an answer. The sobs subsided into soft, sniffly snores as Rick fell asleep.
Two minutes later, Francesca returned with a bottle of potion. She didn’t see that Rick’s wound had already closed and the swelling hadreceded, so she forced the whole bottle down his throat. Since it couldn’t hurt, Brendon didn’t stop her.
“What are the conditions of the spell?” Brendon asked.
Francesca blinked up at him. “What?”
“The Kingdom Defense Spell. What are the exact conditions? You said you’d hoped Kit could act as my stand-in as long as my name was on the marriage certificate, but what does the spell actuallysay?”
“Oh, um, I don’t know the exact word choice, but it says that a member of each royal family must join hands in blessed matrimony.”
“Does it say husband and wife? Bride and groom? Anything gendered?”
After a quiet, thoughtful moment, she said, “No, I don’t believe so.”
He nodded and clutched Rick’s hand tighter. “Good. I need both of you to help me with something.”
Chapter Twelve
I woke up with a hangover from hell, which really wasn’t fair since I didn’t remember drinking any alcohol. My bedroom was blessedly dark, the curtains pulled tight, so for a moment I thought it was still night. I snuggled back into my pillows, wanting a few extra hours of sleep, when my eyes suddenly flew open.
How the fuck did I get here?
I was at the tower …
I was exhausted and fell asleep in the armchair …
You’re so pliable I could pick you up and use you like a damn key.
I threw the sheets off and ran out of my bedroom still wearing my rumpled clothes from yesterday.
“Frederick Woeful! Where do you think you’re going?”
I turned to find Franny hustling toward me, a breakfast tray balanced in her arms. “You get back into bed right this minute.”
“I can’t, I have to—”Fuck, wait, what would Brendon do after escaping? Would he come straight here and tell everyone what I did?I scanned Franny’s face for any clues, but only saw the typical mix of concern and frustration she wore whenever I was sick.
“Absolutely not,” she scolded. “You’re planning to run around again after the scare you gave us yesterday? Poor Brendon about had a heart attack when he found you.”
