Page 32 of Yellow Belly

“His Majesty wishes to see you.” It was the man who’d overseen the torture session the previous day, and today he looked seriously put out. He handed over Henry’s clothing—somewhat worse for wear but better than nothing—locked his wrists behind his back, and led him through the palace. Three times Henry tried to talk to him about Stefano, but the man refused to answer, and Henry gave up.

They twisted and turned through palace corridors that would have been interesting under other circumstances. Had Henry ever given the matter thought, he would have assumed that all palaces were like King Cyrus’s, and he would have been wrong. He liked this one much better. Or would have, if he wasn’t a prisoner and worried sick over Stefano. He wondered what it would have been like for his prince to grow up in a place like this. But if he had, it was unlikely that Stefano would have been given a whipping boy, and then Henry would never have met him, and that was too horrible to contemplate.

They reached a tall, narrow door tucked into an unobtrusive corner. The man rapped once, loudly, before opening it and pushing Henry inside.

Whereupon he was attacked so fiercely that he lost his footing and fell backward. Before he could panic, however, he recognized the person now holding him in a crushing embrace. “Stef!”

Merciful gods, this was his prince, fully restored to his human form and sobbing so loudly into his neck that Henry barely heard the other raised voices in the room. They didn’t matter anyway. Not now.

And the iron bands that had crushed his heart broke free, shot through his chest like tiny daggers, and clattered onto the floor.

He screamed with mingled pain and relief. Stefano held him even more tightly and yelled his name. Everyone else in the room was also yelling. Henry, tugging frantically against the manacles that still bound him, cried over and over, “Stef, Stef, I love you, Stef.”

Chapter Seventeen

It took a long time for the room to settle, and even then Stefano was still dizzy with relief. Henry was alive, sitting next to him, his hand warm and strong in Stefano’s. And yes, Henry looked dazed, new lines of pain at the corners of his eyes. But he was alive, and he was right there.

They had an audience, of course. Verzant and Ebuka sat in chairs opposite them while Jusufi stood beside the king. All of them appeared wary, but they didn’t seem inclined to take action at the moment. Verzant had even ordered that Henry be unchained.

Dianora, on the other hand, had knelt to pick something off the floor and was staring at it curiously. “What are these?” She held up three narrow strips of metal.

Henry tried to answer but his throat was too raspy even after he cleared it, so Jusufi gave him a cup of water. After drinking deeply, Henry pressed a palm to his chest. “They were around my heart.”

“What?” exclaimed Stefano.

“Prince Louis put them there after he cursed you. They… restricted my emotions.”

Fresh anger heated Stefano’s veins. “That bastard! He thought you’d abandon me.”

“Maybe.” Henry frowned slightly. “But I think that he meant it as a mercy, mostly. To keep my heart from breaking.”

Stefano didn’t know whether this was accurate, but before he could argue, Dianora stuffed the metal into a pocket and took a step closer. “Your own brother turned you into a frog? Why in all hells would he do that?”

For a moment, Stefano considered whether to divulge the entire tale, potential parricide, fratricide, and all. To do so could be considered treason. But he wasn’t feeling especially loyal or charitable to his family. Perhaps if he was honest, he could find a way to avert more disasters.

He straightened his shoulders. “I’ll tell you everything, if you like. Just please give me your word that Henry⁠—”

“You are owed no promises,” Jusufi snapped.

But Verzant waved him silent. “I pledge that he will not be penalized for actions in which he holds no fault.”

Stefano nodded and made his own be quiet gesture at Henry, who appeared on the verge of protesting. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I understand that you owe me nothing and that you have excellent reasons to despise my family. Our misdeeds started—well, I suppose they started generations ago. But related to the matters at hand, they started when Henry was brought in to endure my punishments.”

“Stef, you don’t have to⁠—”

“I do. It’s all related, Henry.”

Looking unhappy, Henry nodded. But then he faced King Verzant. “I was an orphan, brought to the palace to be his whipping boy. But this was not Stefano’s choice.”

“It is a barbaric practice,” said the king.

“I agree, and I have not enjoyed the beatings. But Stefano didn’t deserve them either. And in any case, they were a small price to pay for the privilege of becoming his friend. Don’t glare at me like that, Stef. I loved you even with those damned bands around my heart. I’d… I’d like to have a bit more say in my own path, I guess. I’m not sure what path I’d even want. But loving you is my first and deepest desire.”

This was very much not the appropriate time and place for this discussion, but to hells with that—Stefano would not deny him. “There’s no honor I’d rather have, no gift I’d prefer. I’m yours, Henry.” He squeezed Henry’s hand and gave the king and princess a sad smile. “But you must understand our relationship in order to understand how we ended up here.”

Neither of the royal personages appeared displeased by this. Verzant may have even shown some compassion, while Dianora was clearly fascinated. She leaned forward. “How did your love result in your brother turning you into a frog? Did he disapprove because Henry is a commoner? Was he jealous?”

If only it were that easy, Stefano thought. “No. My father’s designs on your country got in the way.”