Appalled by the turn of events, Prince lay on the massive bed like a frozen corpse. He wanted to groan but the sound wouldn't pass his constricted throat. Mayhap he was dazed by a lump on his head. He placed fingertips to his temples. There was no lump. Oui, the wood nymphs. He would have them imprisoned.

Familiar surroundings with doses of deep even breaths helped calm him. He'd heard tales of midwives using similar techniques for childbearing. He bit back the bark of hysteria, too absurd for words. There must be a lump on his head-pressing in, if he recalled talk of not only childbearing, but midwives. Nineteen! He should have no inkling what a midwife was.

He sat slowly, testing the back of his head, shifting his gaze about the chamber. He started with the heavy armoire, then moved to the comfortable sitting area, the dressing table that held his grooming tools, shaving apparatus.

A manly chamber.

A chamber he would never swoon in.

A chamber that exuded viral masculinity…save for the portrait of his parents from a much younger time. Prince rested his gaze on that painting. The one residing proudly over the bed. His bed.

The artist's skill captured Maman's soft knowing smile slighted to Papa, Papa's oblivion, even then. They sat in a field surrounded by vivid purple, orange, and yellow perennials. The knowing quirk in Maman's eye seemed penned on Prince.

He should rethink the painting over the bed.

Disgusted, he glanced at Arnald. His smirk was remarkably similar to Maman's. With his arms folded across his chest, Arnald held the haughty down-the-nose stare to an art.

"Would you care to explain?" Arnald asked.

Prince's temper snapped. "Go ahead, bellow to your heart's content. You know you want to, but at least bar the door beforehand." His temper faded just as quickly as it had appeared. The abhorrence of what happened settled over him, leaving him queasy. He groaned. "How unfavorable, would you say?"

Arnald shook his head, managing to restrain the laughter once more. He'd better. One did not laugh at the prince.

"The future king just fainted. How unfavorable would you say?"




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