“I’ll send Dury to you next.” Audric has regained enough composure for the both of them, and he gestures to Rakos and Bell. “Let’s take this inside.”
Bell holds up a hand. “One second.”
Even Rakos doesn’t know what Bell wants, until Bell whirls around with pure love and joy beaming in his eyes.
Love, joy, and a heaping dose of mischief. Under Audric and Julien’s disbelieving eyes, Bell pulls Rakos into a kiss so tender and filthy, he forgets everything else in the world.
***
Rakos and Bell end up in a sitting room overflowing with potted plants. As they settle on the couch, Bastard blinks around the room. She climbs up one potted tree, then blinks to another and curls up near the base, her little chin propped on the rim of the pot so she can watch everything around her.
“See to Bell first,” Rakos says when the healer arrives.
The healer moves obligingly towards Bell, who says, “Ignore that. See to Rakos first.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” the healer says.
Rakos opens his mouth to argue but shuts it at the fierce glare in Bell’s eyes. He obediently relaxes against the back of the sofa.
The healer, a thin, dark brown man named Dury, touches Rakos’s forehead. Rakos is used to blood healing and barely registers a tingle before Dury pulls away.
“You have a slight concussion. You rode on dragonback?” Dury asks, aghast.
Rakos shrugs. “I’ve done stupider things.”
“I don’t want to know.” Dury touches Rakos’s forehead again. This time the cool touch of magic lingers, and there’s a shift in his head, like an uneven floor suddenly level again. A dizzy-wrongness Rakos had hardly noticed evaporates.
Once Rakos’s bruises and cuts fade, Dury moves to Bell. Rakos holds Bell’s hand as the healer touches his forehead.
Dury pulls away after a moment. “I’ve taken care of the deep bruises and scrapes, Your Highness. For the rest, you’re just exhausted, magically and physically. That headache is too complicated for me to touch, so all I can prescribe is an elixir and sleep.”
“Thank you,” Bell says.
Dury straightens up and bows to Bell. He looks askance at Rakos before apparently deciding to ignore him. “You’re very welcome, Your Highness. You can’t imagine what a relief it is to have two willing patients.”
With another bow, Dury leaves them alone with the bevy of oathguards watching from every corner of the room.
“Hello, Captain Nadine,” Bell says politely.
The hawk-nosed woman at the door inclines her head. “Good to have you back, Your Highness. Your brothers will be here shortly.”
“Thank you.” Bell nestles against the back of the sofa—and Rakos.
Rakos naturally lifts his arm to embrace Bell’s shoulders, and Bell snuggles in closer. Ignoring the guards’ consternation, Rakos tips his head back against the couch and lets his mind go blank. The race is finally over. He can breathe again.
After a while—five minutes or thirty, Rakos doesn’t know and doesn’t care—the door opens again. Prince Audric takes one look at Rakos and Bell, and sighs.
“Don’t wake him,” Rakos says quietly.
Audric slumps in the armchair across from Rakos. He looks tired, but there’s still a core of strength in him. A resilience Rakos recognizes from his time with Bell.
Rakos thinks he and Audric might have been friends, had they shared a banner when they were younger. He doesn’t know what to expect from Audric now. Threats or accusations?
But the first thing Audric says is, “Thank you for taking care of my brother.”
Rakos swallows hard at the love and pain in Audric’s eyes. He clearly adores his younger brother. It’s strange to see royals who care about each other. House Dire is nothing like this. Sure, the first and second prince get along well enough. But the king and queen? The nightmare of a third prince?
“Bell took care of me too,” Rakos says. “Your brother’s an incredible man.”
