Page 63 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

The wait for Edvear and the doctor to arrive is agonizing. Charity stays by Nat’s side while I pace at the far end of the room, thoroughly chastising myself in every way I can think of. The cook’s daughter comes in at one point, and her little eyes grow wide at the sight of Nat’s pale face and bloodied temple.

“We must ask the saints for help for Nat,” whispers Charity to the girl.

Their murmured prayers hum in the air, turning it thick. Nat must have saved me because she didn’t think things through properly. She must have reasoned that if I were killed, she wouldn’t have been able to keep her position and would have been turned out on the streets. It is the only thing that makes sense.

The click of Edvear’s heels makes all of us look up.

“We’re coming!” he calls from down the hallway.

My relief is so sudden, I pull out a chair and drop into it. The white-haired, portly doctor follows Edvear straight to Nat’s beside.

“Yes, poison,” says the doctor in a strong accent immediately upon seeing her. He sets his case on the bedside table and pops it open.

“We can take it from here, Mrs. Finch,” says Edvear to the cook, who looks at me.

“I don’t want to leave the girl alone with three men,”that look says.

I nod briefly, acknowledging her concern and bidding her to listen to Edvear. She purses her lips but leaves with her daughter. Edvear’s eyes are glued to them, and when Becky glances back at him, he gives her a gentle pat and steps outside with them.

“I will be here if you need me,” he tells me.

Only the doctor and I remain in the room with Nat. My fingers drum on the tabletop as the doctor places a tablet in Nat’s mouth and holds it shut until she swallows, wincing. Then he withdraws a sharp scalpel and a small bowl. In his thick accent, he says, “Poison. Out.”

He places the bowl beneath Nat’s cheek and makes a small incision with the scalpel, just below one of the blue veins, until the dribbling violet blood turns red and thin. He works on each vein, moving clockwise around the wound. One of the incisions is dangerously near her eye. I briefly wonder if the doctor had come any later, would he have been forced to partially blind her?

She wouldn’t have saved me if she’d known how much it could cost her.

I look away, clenching my jaw.

A moan drags my attention back to the bed. Just as the doctor is about to make the last incision, Nat thrashes her limbs.

“Sir, sir!” cries the doctor, just as Nat nearly rolls straight off the bed.

I am there the next moment, my knees digging into the mattress as I grip her arm in one hand and her jaw in the other.

“Still!” says the doctor, and I hold Nat’s head still against the mattress, no matter how hard she tries to fight as the doctor slices into her forehead.

The last of that ugly, thick, purple blood clears to red.

Kat

Thesideofmyface stings. My throat aches. I drag open my eyes to see a sharp instrument dripping with blood and an unfamiliar face. I let out an“Uhh!”of surprise as I try to throw myself backward away from him.

A large hand lands on my shoulder, restraining me. “It’s alright, Nat. The doctor is helping you.”

That is the prince’s voice. I swivel my head toward it, only to find the great mass of Prince Rahk kneeling at my side, on the bed. Aside from when I massaged his back, I’ve never been this close to him before. What if he discovers . . .?

The assassins.

The poison.

I groan.

His thumb presses into the hollow above my collarbone. “Relax.”

Absolutely not. What is happening? Why is he so close to me? What if he—

The doctor lifts the bottom of my shirt.

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