“I’m going to need more than an ‘mm-hmm’ to know you’re okay,” he says, his voice at point-blank range. I open my eyes and find myself staring directly into his. I could kiss him, if the thought of moving didn’t make me want to die.
My eyelids feel heavy.
He places his hand on my cheek. “Don’t check out on me now.”
I inhale something sharp and painful. (I didn’t realize pain could be a smell.) My eyes water as they fly open, and my brain catches up with reality.
Theo is crouched next to me, a pinch between his brows. “Tell me you’re okay.” It’s a command if I’ve ever heard one.
“Did you lick my ankle?”
“That was me,” Henry says gravely.
Theo’s eyes widen in alarm until he looks down and sees Comet at my feet. His gaze returns to mine, and I use the very last ounce of energy in my body to wink. He pushes up to his feet, but not before giving his brother a hard shove. “She’s fine.”
A ringing endorsement.I’m too tired to say it.
“How’s Winston?” he asks.
Winston’s eyes are still closed. He gives the King an unenthusiastic thumbs-up. Naomi and Victoria are hovering by his side.
“We gave him some painkillers from the first aid kit and did our best to stabilize his leg, He’s going to be okay. We’re all going to be okay,” Naomi says.
“Let me know if you need anything. I have to go.” Theo turns to his brother. “Henry,” he says in a steely voice.
“I’ll try not to make it worse,” Henry says.
A beat passes. “If anything happens to her—”
“No dead Yanks on my watch. I’ve got it,” Henry says.
“I’m serious,” Theo says, and then he gazes down at me. “Go easy on him.” He stalks away, leaving all of my focus to land on the needle in Henry’s hand.
“You might want to turn your head,” Henry says as he takes Theo’s place by my side. He pinches my cut between two fingers and Naomi and Victoria both inhale sharply. Naomi covers her eyes with her hands.
“Naomi, can you go find Wren’s sister?”
“I’ll be right back,” she says.
“Take your time,” he mutters as she runs toward the forest. He lifts the needle again, but even I can see Victoria flinch in my periphery. “You’ve got to go, Tor.”
She stands with a huff and whistles for Comet to follow her.
When we’re alone, Henry takes a steadying breath. “You ready, darling?”
I’m so thrown by the word “darling” that I forget to anticipate the pain, and before I know it, he’s made the first stitch. The tug of needle and thread is sickening.
“Victoria wants to push me over the cliff.”
“Hmmm?”
“I bet the Firm would bechuffedif you let her do it.”
“Ah.”
“She’d take your crown as the most beloved royal, for sure. They’d be grateful for the person who solves this problem for them.” I’m rambling, but I can either talk, or pass out from pain.
“A bit of a stupid thing to say to the person who has a needle in your arm, innit?”
