Page 13 of Iron Unicorn

On her way by, one of the nurses leaned over and whispered, “Please ask her if she is having any difficulty breathing through her nose.”

Once the nurse had moved on, I gave Olivia’s hand a squeeze. “Can you breathe through your nose now?”

With her eyes still crossed, she closed her mouth and gave a test sniff. She blinked, and then took another few tentative sniffs. When those worked, she tried a deeper breath.

Her eyes widened, and I realized I had approximately twenty seconds to do something, else she would start crying, and I had no idea if she could blow her nose if she became a blubbering mess. I gave her hand a squeeze and said, “We can plan some revenge on your brother for not addressing this sooner.”

That caught her attention, and while her eyes remained wide, I held some hope it was for a different reason. “You? Get revenge on Will?”

If it kept her from crying, I’d dig myself a hole ten feet deep. “I think I’ll recruit Daphne and Runs Amok. We’ll roll him through some mud. Daphne has to have a good reason to keep rolling everyone through the mud, so I think we should experiment to see what the fuss is about, using Will as our target for the experiment.”

Rather than break down and cry because she could breathe, she giggled. “I’m not sure we should be planning this when there are RPS agents around who can hear us.”

I made a show of looking around. “What RPS agents?”

“The ones by the wall trying to pretend they’re statues. It’s the black suits. They’re the darkest thing in here. Your suit is better, though.”

Considering it was an Armani, I couldn’t disagree with her. “I was not in charge of my suit selection this morning, but I’m glad you like it.”

“You should steal and keep that suit. Make them pay!”

As the last thing I needed was Olivia going on a tirade against the Texan royals for being their typical selves, I said, “Shh. We’re not supposed to say that where the RPS agents can hear us. That’s secret planning time for later.”

“Oooooh.” Olivia’s gaze dropped to where I held her hand. “I can’t clap.”

“You’ll be able to clap soon enough. Once you’re out of the recovery room, we’ll do some secret planning, and you can clap all you want. Clapping might startle the doctors and nurses. They’re a lot like skittish deer. And you know how those deer get.”

“Jumping, jumping, jumping over the littlest thing,” she agreed.

“Exactly. If they jump, they might break some of their fancy equipment. Do you know what those skittish doctor and nurse types do when their fancy equipment breaks?”

“They cry,” Olivia reported.

“That’s right. They cry. I don’t think we have enough RPS agents on duty to handle a bunch of crying doctors and nurses right now, so we’re going to have to show them that those from Montana are clearly superior and best behaved.”

She nodded her agreement. “My nose moved.”

Well, I foresaw having an interesting day, at least until the sedatives wore off. I’d cope, somehow.

FOUR

“Titles. Disgusting. Titles are unacceptable, Terry. Not today.”

It tookfour hours before the doctors and nurses tuned Olivia’s medications and deemed it safe to move her to the recovery room. Something about the class of drug induced excessive manic behavior, which offered significant entertainment at a low enough risk of complication. However, a royal on medications prone to making her giggle and want to bounce around could become a hazard—mostly to herself, although if provoked, to others as well.

Fortunately for the sanity of the RPS, one of the doctors explained the nature of the problem, why it was not a concern, and how they were addressing the issue.

I got the job of keeping her entertained, which involved helping her plan various ways her brother might pay for the situation with her nose. She loved the idea of me rolling him in the mud. I questioned her reasoning behind wanting us to get muddy, but as it kept her amused, I made commentary on how best to improve her idea. My strategy would never come to pass, but Olivia adored the idea of her brother’s detail cuffing him and leaving him at her mercy while she acquired payback.

Once in the recovery room, she underwent a series of tests, some magical and some mundane, to confirm everything had gone as planned with her surgery. I stayed along the wall with the other RPS agents, listening to the general chatter, which involved preparations to move the princess to the hotel next door. I approved of their caution; until Olivia could walk on her own, she’d be kept in the private recovery room.

I would openly accompany her while a team of incognito RPS agents supervised from a distance. With the alterations to her face, nobody would recognize her.

A change of clothes would be all the disguise we needed for her. I would be the only one out of place. Until Queen Jessica took mercy on me or I found time to go shopping, I was stuck in the Armani. I questioned the decision to put me out in the open as I’d gained an unfortunate amount of publicity due to being my queen’s primary agent. Where she went, I followed, and people knew it.

I could only assume the Texan RPS wanted someone to serve as bait and that someone was me. I could deal with being bait again. So far, my status as bait had done a lot of good.

Olivia could breathe again.

---