Chapter Two-3
143 Words
Hakim and Ismael stood, intending to accompany him.
“If you come with me,” Ren lectured, “there will be no such discussion again. I am only about freeing a despairing waif.”
“I promise to be on my bess behavior, Your Grace,” the prince drawled. A servant filled a large flask with the port as Hakim instructed and handed it to him.
“You are going to have a hell of a cracked skull tomorrow.” Ren tossed back the remaining contents of his glass.
“Only because I have not imbibed since your last visit.”
Ren quirked an eye to Ismael for confirmation, and the physician nodded knowingly.
“Mayhap your green-eyed runaway will turn out to be a fantasy in the flesh,” Hakim said, linking arms with Ismael, as the two headed from the room. “A woman to stir the loins,” Hakim paused, exchanging a look with the physician, “and possibly the heart.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Ren muttered, following the two from the dining hall.
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