Page 114 of Thus with a Kiss I Die
Ah. Elder had come along to see the entertainment and make sure his son survived my tender care. I should have known he wouldn’t whisk away on a cool, heavenly breeze. Or a hot, hellish wind, either.
“Marcellus, I need whatever bandages and medicines you keep here,” I told him, “and when Dion returns with Friar Laurence, bring them at once to this room.”
Marcellus bowed and departed.
Cal seated himself, then eased himself backward onto the pillows.
I observed the care with which he moved and diagnosed pain and blood loss as the reasons he hadn’t remained on his feet to argue with me. “Holofernes, if you would meticulously remove the clothing from the prince’s upper body, I’ll endeavor to preserve his life for another day.”
Cal gripped my wrist and gazed at me, his lids partially lowered over his dark eyes. “It’s not my first visit to the altar of losing to win. Barnadine and I knew each other too well. For me to defeat him, I had to suffer the molestation of my flesh on his knife. It is as naught when compared to the serving of justice for my noble father.”
“I wouldn’t call a stab wound to the chestnaught!” Elder said. “Listen, boy, I do appreciate your seizing the moment to avenge me, but let us not sacrifice your life, too!”
“My prince, in your youthful years spent in the dungeon, you suffered an exaggerated experience in grave wounds, which leaves you unfit for medical judgment.” I watched as Cal’s bodyguard unlaced his doublet and shirt and Cal eased his arms free, revealing the close-fitting leather vest. A blot of blood marked the place where Barnadine had stabbed him, and as Holofernes unlaced it, he revealed the crimson stain that spread like a malicious miasma across the white linen of his undershirt.
Elder swore.
Holofernes echoed Elder and, pulling his knife, slashed the material, revealing Cal’s bronze skin, with its dark, curled hair, already scarred from the torture of his youth, and the sullenly oozing wound on his chest.
Princess Isabella gasped and turned white. “Sit down and put your head between your legs,” I told her. She was twelve, and all girls of that age found the sight of blood fearsome, and knowing how the womanly years would unfold, for good reason.
Yet upon hearing Cal’s casual assurances, I’d hoped for better. “Light!” I demanded, and climbed on my knees on the bed to better examine his wound.
The always hovering servants appeared, opening curtains and windows and lighting candles, which they held close.
“Bandages!” I held out my hand. Someone thrust a wad of soft cloth in it and I blotted the wound and examined it closely.
The cut was small and deadly aimed, placed exactly at the center of the chest over the heart. Indeed, the only thing that saved my prince’s life was the leather vest and Barnadine’s precision, for he had stabbed exactly at the thickest part of the breastbone. When Cal’s blade found its final resting place in Barnadine’s body, he’d been unable to complete his last act of brutal treachery against the Leonardi family.
Cal read my face and offered the obvious. “He failed.”
“Barely!” Irritated, I stuffed pillows under his head and shoulder to raise them and slow the bleeding.
He continued, “However, I suspect the slender tip of the stiletto broke off and remains lodged in the bone.”
“Yes.” I could see its silver glint. “That’s actually fortunate, for the metal blocks the heaviest blood flow. Yet . . . intense pain, I think?”
I watched Cal struggle with the need to proclaim it only a scratch, but under my steady gaze, he admitted, “Every time I breathe, it’s as if the piercing occurs once more.”
I turned to the servants. “The medicine chest and more light.”
Marcellus came forward, placed the chest on the bedside table, and opened it; then stepped aside for more candles to be brought close.
“Is all in order?” I asked him. “Labeled?”
Princess Isabella appeared at the bedside, still pale but steady. “It is, for after I met you, I took over its tending. What do you need?”
I lightly touched her cheek. “Thank you, dear sister. You’re brave and thoughtful.”
Cal did the same with a kind touch and a brotherly smile. “I feel stronger knowing my sister is nearby.”
“I’m so glad to have the chance to see them together.” Elder gazed at his children fondly. “They are very caring.”
Princess Isabella used her royal voice to me. “What are you waiting for, Rosie? Fix him now!”
Elder chuckled. “Although she takes afteryou.”
I smiled. “I hope so,” I told him. After a quick calculation about the time of Friar Laurence’s arrival, give or take, I said, “Cal, if you wish, I can remove the sliver and poultice and bandage this wound. It’ll be a miserable few minutes, but I know not whether Friar Laurence is in his shop or out answering a call for mercy, and with so much of the citizenry surrounding the palace, I fear traffic clogs the streets and his arrival could be delayed.”
