Page 115 of Thus with a Kiss I Die

“Do it,” Cal said.

“No!” Holofernes exclaimed.

Cal and I looked at him.

“She’s a woman! A mere apprentice!” Holofernes was ruddy with dismay. “You’re the prince! Wait for Friar Laurence, I beg!”

“Holofernes,” Cal said, “I’ll pledge my life to Lady Rosaline very soon and put myself into her keeping.”

My heart lightened to hear him uphold me.

Unfortunately, he added, “Besides, as my wife, she could end my life with a well-placed cup of poison. If she’s going to kill me, might as well get it over with now.”

Elder cackled.

Princess Isabella exclaimed, “Cal!”

I sighed. “You really are your father’s son.”

Cal didn’t smile. Of course not. But he did that one-sided lip twitch and closed his eyes halfway.

And in full view of Marcellus, Holofernes, Princess Isabella, and every single servant who could crowd into the room, I went to work on him.

By the time Friar Laurence arrived, the blade point had been extracted, the wound bathed and poulticed, a temporary bandage had been put in place, and Cal, who had stoically borne the extraction process, took my hand, kissed it, and thanked me in a voice that projected to the far reaches of the corridor.

The man knew his audience.

Friar Laurence heartily approved my handiwork. I shot Holofernes the side-eye as Friar Lawrence gave Cal a lecture on what he could and could not do for the next fortnight or until given permission. Approved activities included walking, reading, talking, drinking moderate amounts of wine to build up his blood, eating the higher foods, like birds and eggs and fruit, rising late, sleeping during the afternoon, going to bed early, and devout prayer. Unapproved activities included dancing, fighting with fists or swords, practicing fighting with fists or swords, excessive wine consumption, and nocturnal activities of any nature. When he saw Cal’s bodyguards smirking, he enjoined them to follow their master’s lead to encourage him in his recovery.

I carefully did not smirk.

He then announced that since I’d assured Verona’s populace of my firm intention to wed Prince Escalus the younger—apparently, there’d been some worried discussion among the citizens of my irked and formidable resistance—he would now bless our betrothal in front of this assemblage. He had me kneel on the bed beside Cal, had us join our hands, and went into a loud, long-winded prayer of thanks to the Virgin Mary and all the angels that I’d at last perceived my feminine duty to my prince and Verona. Then more thanks that I was a woman of chastity, who would come untouched to the marriage bed, and yet more thanks that Prince Escalus was a lord of patience, who would gently guide me into my proper role as a submissive wife.

By the time Friar Laurence said, “Amen,” Cal gripped both my hands so hard I couldn’t wrestle them away to take a swing at the beloved monk or the attendants, who chuckled and nudged each other.

Cal thanked Friar Laurence and asked for a moment alone with me.

I don’t know what Friar Laurence saw in Cal’s stone countenance, but he said, “No.”

“Do not worry, Father, we’re never really alone.” I glared at Elder’s grinning ghost hovering near Friar Laurence’s left shoulder.

He glanced, saw nothing, said, “Nor will you be,” and seated himself solidly in the chair close to the door.

“I’m glad this whole marriage kerfuffle is settled.” Elder sounded positively smug. “Luckily for you, Rosie, I’ll be here to offer sage advice for the rest of your days.”

Cal turned his head as if he’d heard a voice.

“That’s not necessary,” I assured Elder. “I’m sure it’s time for you to go on—”

“Yet it appears I cannot.” Elder cut me off. “So I’ll help you through the difficult early days of your marriage. I’ll take command, make sure you behave with the pomp and dignity of a proper princess, realize how privileged you are to be the bride of—”

“Papà, she is not privileged. I am.” Cal had interrupted his father’s full-blown discourse.

CHAPTER63

Hearing Cal address his father, stare at the place where the ghost hovered—that was eerie and unexpected and . . . validation.

Cal didn’t wait for his father to recover his ability to speak. “Lady Rosaline will lead all Verona, show what a princess must be, for she’ll set her own stamp on the task.”