“Rally, soldier!” Cuthbert barked like an excited Chihuahua, prodding Bryce’s prone form with the tip of his wooden sword.
Bryce lay flat on his back, eyes squeezed shut, his sword a few feet away.
Before I could stop myself, I passed off the daisy chain I’d been making to Sage and sprang up. I swept to Bryce’s side like he’d collapsed on a battlefield. My crush had apparently crushed my kneecaps, because they buckled, and I half fell beside him. “Bryce?” With one finger, I pried his eyelid open.
Bryce’s blue eye snapped to look at me. Letting out a weak cough, he whispered, “I downloaded the Bible app on my phone a month ago in the event that, if we both died, I might make it to Heaven and avoid this reunion.”
“We’re not in Hell, silly.” I laughed the laugh of a pick-me girl who’s just squealed the phraseYou’re sooooo funny!
Bryce opened his other eye. “It feels like it.”
I tugged on his arm, more as an excuse to sink my claws into him than anything else. He begrudgingly stood. Awkwardly, I tried to do that thing where you loop someone’s arm over your shoulder to support them, but his arm was too heavy, and he gave me aWhat the fuck are you doing?look, so I stopped.
“Sorry. Just trying to help,” I mumbled.
“Thanks, Court,” he said, brushing off his shirt, and the damn nickname made my damn heart soften.
“Don’t expect it ever again.” I tried to add my usual bite to the words but couldn’t quite manage it.
“Trust me.” He snorted softly. “I never expect anything from you.”
I rolled my eyes. On the inside, I treasured his words—I never expect anything from you—like a love letter. The thing I ran the risk of losing every time we touched, every time one of usbothered. If we grew too close, he’d stop saying rude, beautiful things likeI never expect anything from you. Love expected everything, and I had nothing to offer.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Bryce said, barely audible. “I can’t fight anything.”
Back when being a Chosen One felt like a competition, a game, I would have been gloating, but not now, after meeting the village girls and realizing how vital our success was. Bryce couldn’t quit. He was the Chosen One, the reliable one. The gravity that kept me tethered to the earth. My moral compass. Without him, I couldn’t navigate what it meant to be a hero. I would lose my way and fail like always.
“Nonsense. You’re fit for war.” I fetched Bryce’s sword and tucked it into his limp hand. He immediately dropped it. “Whoops. Looks like someone has a bad case of the dropsies.”
Cuthbert’s eyes grew wide. “Dropsy? Lord Bryce has come down with dropsy?”
“No,” I said. “No, no. I only mean he dropped his sword.”
But more people started gathering around murmuring, “Dropsy? The Chosen One has fallen ill with dropsy?”
“It’s a phrase!” I yelled over the chaos. “?‘Having the dropsies’ means you’re prone to dropping stuff.”
“His limbs are already failing him!” a soldier wailed and fell to his knees, his own limbs apparently failing him.
“We must boil water,” Rose yelled frantically.
“How do you think water will help?” I asked, pulling at my hair. “What do you plan on doing with it?”
“We will boil it, my lady,” said Rose.
I let out a frustrated growl. “I know he looks like a sickly, fragile Victorian man who’s constantly on the verge of death, but he’sfine.”
“He’s on the verge of death?” a third person sobbed.
Bryce’s eyes focused, flitting from one concerned face to another. “Yes,” he said quietly. Then, louder, “Yes!” He dramatically clutched a hand to his chest. “How I suffer so! How misfortune has struck the land! How the mighty have fallen!”
The castle folk nodded and clapped one another on the back, fighting off tears.
“Behold, my appendages already retain fluid. See how I have been rendered useless!” Bryce raised his arms, which were the opposite of swollen. “I fear I will no longer be able to serve as your leader. My henchwoman will take my place until I feel better.” With that, he collapsed onto the ground.
CHAPTER 19INWHICHCOURTNEYTRIESTOSUCKMEDRY
BRYCE
