Page 8 of Thus with a Kiss I Die

“Emilia, stop picking your nose!” Mamma commanded.

“It itches!” Emilia protested.

“Come here, child.” Mamma held a linen towel to Emilia’s face. “Now blow.”

Emilia honked.

“He’s in for a rude shock,” Katherina told me. “What else?”

“He wants an older sister to care for Princess Isabella.”

“You have the creds for that.” Katherina tried always to look on the bright side, but now in a biting tone, she added, “It would be pleasant if you could have been left in place to act the older sister tous.”

I hugged her. “I’ll always be there when you have need of me.”

“Don’t wrinkle!” Nurse shrieked from the basin, where she scrubbed at Imogene’s hands.

We deftly separated.

“He said I’d proved myself to be a good household manager.” (This was true; Mamma was a grand woman, but a disaster at managing the Casa Montague and I’d early taken the reins.) “And because I come from fertile stock, I’ll provide him with a crew of strong sons to row his barge and a flock of lovely daughters to listen, enraptured, as he spins the same tale over and over of his past triumphs.”

The last was a jest of a kind; at the dinner table, Papà did enjoy repeating tales of his youth until we all cried, “Desist!” Not that he ever listened.

“He’s the prince. Of course, he wants heirs.” Mamma sounded prosaic.

“He did mention that,” I said, “and he seemed enthralled with filling the empty, echoing corridors of the palace with progeny.”

“Ahhh.” Mamma and Katherina sighed sentimentally. “How sweet.”

I covered my face with my hands. I know my place in society, but the hop from lifelong virgin to breeder of nations seemed sudden, jarring, and—considering the bedroom duties necessary to bring this about and the partner who had elected himself as my mate—a lot of work for a few minutes of what I assumed would be pleasure.

Someone tugged at my arm. I looked down into Emilia’s wide eyes. “Yuck,” she said.

“Thank you, Emilia. I couldn’t agree more.” I stared at the others. “Then he cited that I’d trusted him to rescue me from murder charges.”

“He did do that,” Katherina agreed.

“A lot of people helped with that,” I snapped. “He said I teased him. He seemed much struck by that.”

Mamma’s soft heart was wrung. “No laughter, no teasing. Since the deaths of his parents, Escalus the elder by assassination and dear Eleanor after she gave birth to Princess Isabella, Prince Escalus has lacked a normal family life.”

“He’s not like us,” Emilia said, and it wasn’t a compliment.

“He said something about admiring my courage.” Then I lied. “And that’s all.”

Imogene arrived holding out her distinctly cleaner hands as if they belonged to someone else, someone she didn’t know or like.

Nurse followed close on her heels, and she mocked me. “That’s all? Really? What about what he gave you?”

This woman had been my mother’s nurse and my nurse and supervised the care of all the children. She slept in my room, she bossed us all, and now she butted into the conversation when I least wanted her.

I glared, conveying my displeasure without words. “He didn’t give meanything.” That I wanted to admit.

As was her wont, she blithely ignored my palpable hint. “After you met with him, you clutched something in your hand and held it to your heart.”

Mamma and my sisters all began to smile.

“Let me assist your faulty memory,” Nurse said. “When I asked you about it, you said he gave you something to think about.”