He heard someone snort inelegantly. “Matching hospital beds for the two of them, I suppose.”
Then Yuri heard no more, and the last thing he felt was someone stroking the hair away from his forehead and assuring him that everything would be fine, but the voice didn’t sound at all convinced of its own sincerity.
28
Angelo Is a Pillock
Regardless of his past loyalties, Angelo had no doubt that Yuri would be safe as houses with Philippe. It was obvious to everyone, except perhaps Yuri, that Philippe saw the young prince as a sort of surrogate son. Not terribly surprising, seeing as he had been a birth gift from Angelo's parents. They'd wanted eyes within the Mirean palace, but it clearly had never occurred to them that Philippe might change his loyalties. It was possible the man still spied for the king and queen of Tanzhir, but Angelo doubted it.
Sitting on the front steps, smoking a cigarette, was Roger. Perfect. It would save Angelo from having to bother Yuri's security.
“I'm taking a walk,” Angelo said.
Roger nodded and joined him on the pavement. “Any particular location we're to visit?”
“Just need to give Yuri some time, that's all.”
“Very good, sir.”
They walked along the streets of Oxford while talking very little, but it was a companionable silence.
Roger looked at his watch. “It's been thirty minutes. Should we go further or turn back?”
“Let's go back. Philippe was baking lemon drizzle cake and I'd like to have at least a piece before Yuri gobbles the entire thing.”
“Very good, sir,” Roger said with a snort of amusement.
They turned the corner onto Yuri's street and saw a man approach Yuri's house.
“Now, who might that be?” Roger asked.
“I'm not sure, but… dammit.” Angelo took off running toward the man, Roger right on his heels.
“Sir, stop. You need to stop now. This isn't safe—”
“Bugger that.” Angelo knew who the man had to be. “Blackheath. What the fuck do you think you're doing?”
“You!” Lord Dickface hissed in fury. “You aren't wanted here.”
“Kinda beg to differ. I have an invitation. You don't.”
Blackheath tried to look imperious but Angelo was entirely immune. “You have no way of knowing what I do and don't have. My relationship with the prince is private. Of course he doesn't talk about me to you, but why would he? You're nothing to him. An obligation to be borne. I can free him from a life he doesn't want.”
That made Angelo want to be sick. “How? By killing him?”
“How dare you. You may be the prince of some little jumped-up country no one's ever heard of but that means nothing to me. Yuri's mine.”
“Fuck. That. He’s mine. Find another pretty boy to terrorize.”
Lord Dickface eyed him coldly. “Where else can I find a prince willing to grovel and beg at my feet?”
Unable to control himself, Angelo leapt toward Blackheath, wanting to get his hands around the man's neck. Without warning, he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. He lost whatever grip he had on Blackheath, who sped away. Angelo wanted to pursue him, but his legs refused to move.
“Your highness! Are you injured? Dammit, how many times have I told you not to run right into danger? Do you ever listen to me at all?”
“Listening now,” Angelo panted. Why he was out of breath when he hadn’t been before was beyond him. He stood there, watching the bastard run away, and wondered what had happened. He touched his side and his fingers came back bloody. He’d been stabbed. That utter dickface had stabbed him.
“Sir, you’re bleeding. We need to get you to A & E.” Roger put a careful arm around him. “Can you walk?”
“I'm fine. Need Yuri. Make sure… safe.”
“After I call for an ambulance. Although I'm not sure how you're going to make it up those stairs.”
“Fine. I'm fine. Just a scratch.”
“Right,” Roger muttered, his ear to the mobile. “Pillock.”
“Prince Pillock to you. I want to see Yuri.”
“Soon, your highness. Why deal with only one pillock when you can have two?”
Angelo found himself leaning heavily on Roger's shoulder. “You love me.”
“Do be quiet, your highness. I'm trying to save your life.”
Angelo woke in strange surroundings. He'd just had a very odd dream but the details fled his mind. In the background, he heard beeping.
“Oh, thank god. You're finally awake.”
He turned his head to see Yuri by his side, holding the hand that wasn't hooked up to IV tubing. Angelo finally realized he was in a private room at a hospital, but he had absolutely no idea how he'd gotten there. It was dark outside, but Angelo had no idea how late it was.
“Yuri? What time is it? Why am I in hospital? Why do I hurt more now than I did when the dickface stabbed me?”
Yuri’s beautiful blue eyes were drawn and tired. He yawned and looked at his watch. “It’s about fifteen till eight. You’re in hospital because you were stabbed. Remember?”
Angelo remembered all right. “But why am I here? In this bed? Even if I needed stitches, I shouldn’t be here. And on an IV.”
“You were stabbed. Stop trying to minimize that.”
Angelo let it go and went on to the next important topic. “Where’s my mobile? I need to inform work that I’m in hospital. I’m not sure how long I’ll be here, though. Tell me exactly what happened. It was just a little prick—”
He was interrupted by a snort of amusement. “Francis had a lot of flaws, but a tiny prick wasn’t one of them.”
“Shut up, Yuri. Give me my mobile.”
Yuri stretched. “Roger contacted your work. Yesterday. It’s Monday night.”
Angelo started. “It can’t be.”
“Yeah, sorry, but it’s Monday night. The ambulance came and brought you to the A & E. I came with Philippe, Roger, and Sam. Security’s outside, but it’s Malcom and Trevor now.
