Page 73 of Not Another Happily Ever After

“She was his first and only love,” Merrek continues, tossing his bread into the fire. “He didn’t know that when he asked her to stop and make a delivery on her way that he’d be sending her into a fire. He didn’t know there was a plan to kill the queen.”

My body stills as bile slowly creeps up the back of my throat. For the little girl whose remains stopped my father from cutting out my heart…was Red.

“No…” I swallow hard, but it’s too late. The realization rips through my stomach, forcing the guilt and shame to come up in chunks.

“Oh shit!”

“Princess?”

The twins cry out as all three men jump to their feet, their faces pinched in varying shades of concern and disgust as I retch all over where they’d been sitting.

“Oh you’ve done it now!” Myrrdin spits, eyes burning into his brother.

“Me? I just told her the truth, which is more than R—ahhh!”

Merrek falls back, letting out a high-pitched shriek as the purple-pinned arachne Myrrdin just tossed on him climbs up the terrified knight’s chest.

“Oops. Sorry.” Myrrdin shrugs, looking anything but as he stalks over to where Merrek is frantically rolling on the ground.

My mouth hangs open, still dripping with spew as I watch the pair struggle to catch the speedy little spider in stunned silence.

“Well then.” Rhidland slaps his palms against his thighs, groaning as he climbs to his feet. “Tea, My Lady?” He blinks, unfazed by the two large knights now wrestling in the grass behind him.

“I…please,” I nod, swiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

The old guard goes to fetch the canister of herbs from his bag when its front pocket spills open, and with it his extra undergarments.

“What in the realm—who stole my bloody buttons?”

Rhidland’s stony eyes cut toward the twins, his fist winding up to swing. And of course the oblivious oafs are too busy bickering to see they’re being blamed for something our feathery friend did and?—

“Oh my God! Buttons!” I gasp.

“Is perfectly alright,” answers the familiar timbre of a painfully shy knight.

Frog!

I stand and spin on my heels so quickly that even his eyes are wide with surprise.I wonder how surprised he’d feel if he knew it’s taking everything in me not to run up and throw my arms around him right now.

“I thought…I didn’t know. I—are you, is he, alright?” I finally spit out.

Because full sentences are so hard now, Sunday?

I inwardly cringe at my sudden inability to speak in his presence.

Frog’s eyes soften.

“Wolfe needs to run it out. Buteveryoneis alright.” He winces as he reaches beneath his cloak with his bloodied arm and gently pulls out a sleeping pink-and-white fluff ball.

“Buttons!” I coo, taking the small dragon from Frog’s hand into my arms. Apart from an exhaustive case of the sleepies, he appears to be otherwise unfazed by tonight’s events. Which is more than I can say for some…

Frog’s tunic is torn to shreds, hanging off his chiseled body in bloodied ribbons beneath his muddied cloak. Though—by some miracle—the cuts look superficial. Nothing that would warrant a pontiff or a sloppy set of stitches. Still…

“You should take that off so we can clean those,” I suggest, nodding toward the shallow lacerations that line his muscled chest.

The men fall silent at my back. Before me, a stunned Frog stands, his dark brows lifted high above his fire-lit eyes. It’s only after the words have fallen past my lips that I realize my mistake.

“I didn’t mean that I would—I just meant—” My dying limbs warm, brought back to life just to paint me with embarrassment.