Page 82 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
“Kit,” Kit said, with no further explanation.
The imp didn’t introduce itself. I wasn’t sure imps had names, or if they did, whether they were pronounceable to humans. Then again, maybe it was just preoccupied picking paper out of its teeth.
“I’m sorry my honey-bunches caused you so much trouble,” Lucinda said, swatting her husband on the shoulder. “We really were only supposed to attend the wedding, no magic or mischief.”
“And that’s all I wanted for you, cookie,” Cyril insisted, snuggling closer to his wife. “But then it looked like the groom was cheating on the bride, and I was concerned it would all be canceled, and you’d be devastated. I really was doing it all for you.”
“Mm-hm,” she said and pursed her lips. “And I suppose you weren’t intending to ruin it at the last possible moment in an act of Great and Terrible Evil?”
Cyril sunk into the chair sheepishly. “No, no, of course not.”
“Wait, it reallydidn’thave anything to do with the defense spell?” Franny demanded, looking between them with wide eyes. “You were only concerned about the wedding going through?”
“Franny, darling, maybe don’t provide the evil mage with potential evil plots,” Kit said, her voice gentle but stern.
“Don’t worry,” Lucinda said. “I’ve made him promise to behave.”
“Even if—” Fran began, but quieted when the three of us hissed her name. She sealed her lips and scowled in annoyance. Turning back to the evil couple, she informed them primly, “I hope you will not be disappointed to learn that I will not be marrying Brendon.”
Cyril’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I hadn’t expected you to.”
I guess now was probably the time to set him straight, since no one else would be put in danger by the knowledge. “Franny and Brendon were supposed to marry tomorrow,” I explained, pointing to both of them.
“So, you … aren’t the groom?”
“I wasn’t, at least officially, until about ten minutes ago, when Brendon accepted my proposal.”
“In the bathroom?” Franny asked, aghast. “Fred, where’s your sense of romance?”
“Good on you, Brendon,” Kit said, grinning at her best friend. “Knew you could do it.”
I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that. I shot Brendon a curious look and he just grinned. “No one is surprised,” I said carefully.
“See?” Brendon said. “If we’d just sat down and talked at the beginning, you never would have needed to kidnap me.”
“Ooo, you kidnapped him?” Lucinda asked, sitting up straighter. “How romantic! That’s how Cyril and I met!”
“He kidnapped you?” Not that I was surprised. Definitely seemed like the way an evil mage would meet his bride.
Except she threw her head back and laughed, the harsh cackle contradicting her stately beauty. “Gods, no! I kidnapped him. It was part of my apprenticeship under The Devourer of Men.”
“She stole me away and stole my heart,” Cyril replied with a lovesick expression.
“And, uh, how did you go from cannibalism to romance?” I asked.
She lowered her eyelashes. “I suspect much more easily than you went from captor to prospective groom. After all, we both expect and respect evil in our daily lives. Marriage is much easier when you have similar interests.”
“We share enough,” Brendon replied, squeezing my thigh gently.
“So.” Lucinda clasped her hands together and looked eagerly between us. “You two are getting married tomorrow?”
“As long as neither of you interfere,” I said carefully.
Her eyes narrowed. “We’re invited to attend?” The question had a dangerous undercurrent, warning me that there was only one correct answer.
“Of course, front row seats if you like.”
“Oh, goody!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands and bouncing up and down on her husband’s lap. “This is so exciting!”
