Page 89 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
Franny shook her head no.
“She said ‘why wouldn’t I want such a fine young man as my customer?’ Even though she must have heard all the rumors by then.”
Franny’s brief amusement at Madame’s response quickly faded into concern. “Freddy,” she murmured, voice soft like it used to be when she soothed me as a child. She cleared her throat and corrected, “Rick. What … What really happened with Mattias? I don’t believe for a second you abused him, but why did you lock him away?”
I rested my cheek on my knees and stared at a random spot on the wardrobe wall, following the swirl of the wood grain. “Did you know his mother ran away when he was only two years old?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did you know there are spells for sleepwalkers?”
Her brow furrowed as she struggled to relate the two questions. “No.”
“If you cast them on a person, whenever they fall asleep, they always find their way back to the caster. Most magic isn’t inherently good or evil. Like fairy dust. It’s an important ingredient in enchantments but it can also control people when it falls into the wrong hands. The sleepwalking spell was designed to keep people safe. Mattias’ father used it to make sure that every time Mattias fell asleep, he would return to him.”
“You had to lock the tower from the inside,” Franny whispered, “so he wouldn’t return home against his own will.”
I nodded miserably. “It was only a temporary solution. Back then, I couldn’t break the enchantment on him. He left to find someone who could.”
“But …” Franny began, her eyes wide. “But you were crying when he left!”
I grimaced, remembering theextremelybad timing my family had when they’d burst into the tower. “I’d rather not explain that bit, if you don’t mind.”
She scanned my face, then nodded. “Alright, if that’s what you want. Thank you for telling me as much as you have. I’m sorry I never asked during all these years.”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” she said firmly, “or you wouldn’t be hiding in a wardrobe.”
Pursing my lips, I tried to put my fear into words. “I fuck upall the time, Franny. If I’d made better choices with Mattias, I could have avoided all those rumors. I almost fucked up the whole wedding by kidnapping the goddamn groom!”
Franny’s hand settled over mine and squeezed tightly. “Sometimes things need to be a little fucked up in order to set them right. If you hadn’t stepped in, who knows what would have happened to Mattias? Who knows what would have happened to Brendon and me? I’m not saying you always make the right choice, but you took the initiative to try to change things for the better. That’s more than I’ve ever done.”
I stared at her for a long moment, thinking about every mistake I’d made in the past week that had somehow led me to Brendon. The only mistake I would truly regret would be staying here, cowering, when I could be meeting him at the altar. “I don’t know what to wear,” I muttered.
Franny grinned and tugged on my hand, pulling me out of the wardrobe and to my feet. “Nowthatis a problem I can help you with.”
Thirty minutes later, dressed in black and white as originally planned, with a statement piece red jacket with black embroidery, Franny continued to fuss with the smallest details. “Fran, I’m going to be late,” I complained, shifting back and forth on my feet impatiently as she styled my dark hair, putting every strand in its place.
She arched her eyebrows at me but refrained from pointing out that I was the one who’d wasted time first. “So, what if we are? The wedding isn’t going to start without you, and Brendon isn’t about to leave you at the altar. You’ve already done the hard part. You don’t have to race against the clock to stop Brendon and I from marrying, or fight any monsters, all you have to do now is walk down the aisle.”
“Yes, but what if Cyril and Lucinda grow impatient and change their mind about attacking the kingdom?”
Her hands stilled and she pursed her lips. “You’re right, best not to make them wait.” She looped her arm through mine and together we made our way to the converted ballroom.
Guests trickled into the ballroom through the main door to take their seats. Franny and I slipped around them to the far left entrance. Somewhere on the other side, Brendon would be waiting for our cue. Without him in view, my heart began to pound in fear and anticipation.What if somethinghashappened? What if he isn’t standing over there?
“Breathe, Fr—Rick. Everything will be fine.”
A few guests looked our way, eyebrows arched. Had anyone told them of the change of plan? Since Franny and I both stood there in formal wear, they could still think she was the bride. They had no way to know that she was only wearing hersecond-best pink dress.
A purple flash drew my attention to the front of the room, where the Good Wizard appeared in all his glory. He fluffed out his sleeves, then nodded grandly to the string quartet. The first notes of a happy, hopeful wedding march sang through the ballroom.
With one last bracing breath, I walked toward the aisle.
Brendon met me in the middle, and I sighed in relief. His red hair burned like embers and his freckled skin had a cheerful, excited flush. He wore greens and browns that played with his coloring wonderfully. Most important, his blue eyes were locked on me, little crinkles on the edges hinting at a smile even as his lips remained stoic. I only caught a brief glimpse before we faced the front, walking toward our future side by side. Maybe it was a good thing I had to turn away, or I’d have pounced on him, audience be damned.
We weren’t supposed to hold hands yet, but the back of his fingers grazed mine, assuring me he was there.
