“In the throne room. Armageddon says this is where he used to keep Xavier, too.” Her head lolls on her shoulders. “I have to go now.” Her eyelids flutter. “Look, I won’t have the strength to talk again and keep Maxon safe at the same time, so don’t try, okay?”
I nod so quickly, I’m surprised I don’t get whiplash. “Sure, Hildy.”
“Come get our boy soon. Before the Looking Glass wears out.” Her eyes close once again and she falls silent.
One or two days.
We have forty-eight hours, tops, before our son is subjected to Armageddon’s tender mercies. My tail sways behind me in a predatory rhythm. Beside me, waves of rage roll off Lincoln.
This is the moment when Emily decides to return, her bright smile back in place. “The Head Nurse is on her way. Would you like me to waken this girl with adrenaline?” She holds up syringe. “Perhaps you want to interrogate her for some reason?”
“No!” I bellow. “Put that thing away!” Whipping the syringe from her hand, I smash it onto the floor. “Now, bring the damned Head Nurse or my tail will skewer you where you stand.”
“Your Highness, I—”
“Head Nurse, now!” My voice echoes through the mostly-empty infirmary. A tall, bony woman scurries across the room, stopping when she reaches Hildy’s bed. Her long brown hair is tied into a bun at the back of her neck. I want to rip out every strand.
“So sorry I kept you waiting, Your Highnesses. I was checking the intake forms on this girl. She doesn’t seem to be affiliated with any house, so we didn’t know what to do with her.”
I point to Hildy, every inch of me vibrating with rage. “Nurse Emily just offered to wake her up for us.”
“I t-told her to m-make that offer,” stammers the Head Nurse. “She’s without a house, so we thought she was a prisoner. Someone you’d want to interrogate.”
I step close to the Head Nurse until we’re literally nose-to-nose. “Who’s your second in command?”
“C-command? The Junior nurse on staff tonight is Emily.”
I wave Emily over. She approaches us, wide-eyed and anxious. “Yes, Your Majesties. What can I do?”
“Do you know where to find the staff directory?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Good. How many of those workers could have anything to do with Hildy?”
“Oh, about thirty or so, Your Majesty. We’re a small operation. The main infirmary is about a mile from here, but the Head Nurse didn’t think Hildy needed to go there.” She face-palms herself. “But you know where the main infirmary is, of course. Do you want us to move Hildy to it?”
Emily’s babbling, not that I totally blame her. Lots of people get overwhelmed around royalty, especially their first time. “No, I want Hildy here, where she’s a short walk from the royal suites. So, that’s why you’re calling in all the support staff, right now. The King and I will talk to them. Once we’re done, we’ll assign the best team to Hildy.”
The Head Nurse purses her lips in frustration. “I assure you, I’m more than qualified to assign support staff—”
Lincoln glowers at her. “No one’s talking to you.” He turns to Emily. “This girl Hildy is all that’s keeping our child safe while he’s in Hell. No one’s by her side unless the Queen and I have personally approved them. Do you understand?”
“I’ll call them all in, just as you ordered, your Majesties.” Emily rushes away.
The Head Nurse sighs. “We’re all so sorry to learn about the High Prince, Your Highnesses.”
Lincoln steps up to my side. “Your sentiments are appreciated. You’re fired.”
Her mouth falls open with shock. “What?”
“You heard what the King said,” I snarl. “You’re fired. I can’t believe I have an infirmary run by someone who shoves thrax in a corner because they aren’t affiliated with the right house.” She keeps staring at me, her mouth open. “Fired means you move.”
“Yes, Your Highnesses.” At last, the Head Nurse walks away as Emily approaches us once more.
“I sent out royal messengers to find all the support staff. They’ll start arriving in a few minutes.”
Lincoln rubs his chin. “Thirty staff members.” He sits down on the cot across from Hildy. “How long do you think those interviews will take, my love?”
I scratch my chin, thinking. “An hour or two.” At this point, I can tell within two minutes if they someone has their head screwed on.
“Agreed,” says Lincoln. “What time is it, Emily?”
“You remembered my name,” stammers the young nurse. “It’s ten o’clock at night, Your Highness.”
“Thank you. Excellent work, Emily. You may go.”
Emily blushes, curtsies and then hurries away. Lincoln watches her leave. “She follows orders and fast. That one might end up being the best in the bunch.”
“True.” I loop my arm through his and rest my head on his shoulder. After I woke up in the cathedral, my guy seemed frightened and out of control. Now, with every passing second, he’s more and more his old Kingly self. It’s comforting.