Page 14 of Heartbreak Prince

In one of my classes, the professor taught us to deal with what he called “panic spasms.” I can’t remember any of the solutions—except one.

I grab the prince’s jaw, pull his face up, and kiss him firmly on the mouth.

He shoves me away, coughing. “What the fuck? Why would you—Why?”

“I’m sorry!” I cover my mouth, wincing. “I thought that would help!”

“You made—it—worse. I think—I might—pass out.”

“Not here. Alleys like this are covered in piss and shit.”

“Ugh.” The prince shudders, pushing himself away from the wall he was leaning against. Oddly enough, the thought of tumbling into someone else’s fecal matter seems to snap him out of his frenzy. His breathing is still rough, but it’s slower.

Or maybe the kiss did work.

“You need time to grieve,” I tell him quietly. “But I can’t give you that. Not yet. Mask or not, it isn’t safe for us to stay out on the streets tonight. As the word of the coup spreads, there will be more unrest. And the assassins aren’t going to stop looking for you. They will know that the best place for you to hide is in the city, among the people, so that’s where they’ll look. We need shelter, money, and a destination—anything far from here. So I’m going to have to ask you to take your grief, pack it up, and put it away. Just until I can get you somewhere safe.”

He releases a shaking breath. “You sound as if you’ve had experience with this type of thing.”

“With the destruction of the monarchy—no. With the postponement of grief—yes.” As my own emotions start to intensify, I press them into their closet in my mind and hold the door shut. “I know where to get money, but can you think of a destination? Somewhere you might find refuge?”

“I would say with family, but—” He presses a fist to his forehead, frowning deeply as if it’s painful to think. “Possibly Lord and Lady Kaenan at Anyssir Castle, in the Grey Province. They’re almost family.”

“That’s on the way to Tularesk, the kingdom to the north of us,” I muse. “I heard they’ve been in talks with your father about an alliance. Do you think they might be willing to make an arrangement, maybe help you take back the kingdom?”

He gives me an odd look. “Maybe, but I’d rather not.”

“Xarsi to the east is insular, and they don’t have much of an army. There’s the ocean to the west—no help there, only pirates and monsters. And Kredissia to the south is busy fighting their own war with Mondeid and the Ferran Confederation. I think Tularesk is your best option.”

“How do you know so much about politics?”

“I like to stay informed.” I pick up the mask and hand it back to him. “We have a destination and a plan. The carpet can transport us, but we’ll need money for food, lodging, and necessities, including warmer clothes. It’s still cold in the north at this time of year.”

“So we head to the Pink Lycan first?” Vawn asks.

“Yes. My license chip is still good there.”

“License chip?”

“You can’t just walk in off the street and perform at the Lycan,” I explain. “You either have to participate in open tryouts, or you need a reference from a performer.”

He nods. “How long will it take to earn what we need?”

“Eight to ten hours if I just do peep shows.” I pick up the mask and hand it to him, avoiding his eyes. “It’ll be faster if I do one of the touch pods.”

“Twice as fast with two of us, though.” He pulls the string of the mask over his head and fits it above his ears.

“Two?”

“Of course. I’m performing as well. You can give me a reference.” Shock paralyzes me for a moment, and the prince gives a humorless chuckle. “I’m not about to let you do something I’m not willing to do myself. Won’t we earn the money faster if we both perform?”

“Yes…”

“And I assume performers are masked?”

“Always. And if they have glyphs, they’re given false nails to cover any distinctive glyph work. You don’t have tattoos, do you?”

“Of course not. You know as well as I do that they inhibit the accumulation of magic.”