Page 78 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

I knock his hand away and grab hold of the fence to pull myself up.

“Nat—”

The world spins once I’m on my feet. I hold on to the fence to keep from falling. With my other hand, I press his cold shirt to my swollen face. At least now no one will recognize me as Lady Vandermore! I choke back a hysterical laugh.

Then I face the prince. “Again.”

He’s on one knee still, as though he means to propose marriage. I fight back another delirious giggle and repeat firmly, “Again. Let’s keep practicing. I assume we ought to go over dodging once more?”

Laughter surrounds us. I startle and glance around, only to realize most of the men in the place hurried over in concern the moment I was hit.

“The lad’s fine!” one guffaws.

“He’s got the skull of an anvil!”

“Brings a new meaning to the mind being a steel trap, eh?”

I want to laugh along with them, even though the barest chuckle makes my head feel like it is splitting in two. But the prince is staring at me with such an iron focus, it’s almost as if he’s angry I would suggest such a thing.

“We’re leaving,” he growls, his voice low and cold. When I start to protest, he comes very close to my face and says, “At once.”

I clamber over the fence, mopping up the blood still seeping out of my nose, and try to move quickly despite my dizziness so the prince won’t decide I need to be carried. A few men clap me on the back and give me wishes for my speedy recovery or proclaim I’m as tough as nails. I’m reminded once again why I’ve tried so hard to avoid them and their marriage proposals. Most of them seem to be genuinely good-hearted people and I simply cannot risk being tempted to give up my fortune.

I sway. The prince’s hand latches onto my upper arm. He doesn’t move too fast for me, but we quickly exit the sparring yard.

He doesn’t speak a word to me the entire way home.

Chapter 24

Kat

“Minorconcussion.Restdayand day. No better—me,” pronounces the doctor.

Rahk looks to where I sit on the settee in his foyer, his magicked shirt still pressed to my face.

“I think he’s saying to rest two days and if I’m not better, to summon him again,” I say dully.

The doctor nods. Rahk flicks his attention to Edvear, who produces the coin to pay for the doctor as he leaves. Mary is at my side the next minute. She kneels on the rug, tsking her tongue and trying to get a look at the swelling on my face. “How can you be such a boy? Every time I turn around, you’ve gotten yourself injured again!”

The prince sent for Mary the moment we got home, and I could not be gladder to see her. It takes the edge off the radiating pain through my skull.

Rahk stands by the door, watching us, arms crossed over his chest and I’d almost think the emotion that flashes across his near-inscrutable face is guilt. “I’ll be in my study. If the boy needs anything, send for me or Edvear.”

“Thank you, my lord,” says Mary.

We wait until there is no chance of his hearing, and then Mary hisses: “What were you doing? You’re supposed to be staying out of trouble! And Charity Finch tells me you were bedridden withpoisononly a few days ago!”

“I thought someone called my name—my real name. I thought Lord Boreham had recognized me!”

“He was there?” she demands.

“And Lord Cranswick and Sir Alsbee and—”

Mary covers her face with her hand. “I cannot decide if you’re the most orleastlucky person I’ve ever encountered.”

She helps me to my own room, where she shuts the door and helps me change. She gives me a new chest binding so she can clean the old, browning one. The moment we peel it off my skin, I take in a deep lungful of air. I’ve gotten so used to the garment I forgot what it feels like to be free. But we cannot dally, no matter how glorious those few seconds of freedom are, and I’m once again tightly bound up in the new garment.

“How are things at home?” I ask in a hushed tone, after updating her on all of my recent misadventures.

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