I showered again and this time put some effort into the work that needed to be done. Hair removal, scented drops, lotions, a pedicure. I put on a silky pale blue party dress. I worried it was overly dressy for the restaurant we were going to, but it fit the occasion — my wedding reception.

He had spent a couple of hours talking security with Quentin and rushed in to get dressed.

Emma had laundered his linen shirt. He wore a kilt of course. From the looks of his drawer he owned four now. I wondered where he got them, did they sell kilts in Jacksonville, or were they mail ordered? He spread the long tartan fabric on the floor, kneeled beside it, drawing it into pleats, then laid down on it and wrapped it around his waist.

“Well, you aren't getting dressed in a hurry.”

“Tis why we wear it all the time. I imagine twould be easier tae pull up a pair of pants.”

“And what is that called?” I asked as he fastened on the bag thingy he often wore at his front.

“A sporran.”

“What do you keep in there?”

“Wee bits and pieces of things.” He opened the top and pulled out his bank card with a grin. Then he sifted through it and pulled up the shark tooth I gave him the day we went to the Fort. “You kept it? That's so sentimental.”

He nodded. “Aye, Kaitlyn Sheffield gave me the tooth of a monster, I plan tae keep it tae guard me.”

“I'm Kaitlyn Campbell now.”

“Och aye, ye gave me the tooth of a monster. I had tae marry ye. I'm nae a fool.”

I pulled my bare feet up under me and sat on the bed watching him get dressed. Strapping on his belts — one around his waist holding the sporran, another holding the sheath for his dirk. He slid the dirk into it with a fondness that was kind of thrilling to watch. He was so gentle and kind and good natured for all these armaments.

He picked up his coat, pulled it on, and buttoned it up the front.

“It will be hot for so many layers.”

He nodded like he didn't hear me. “I might need it, I winna know.”

Then he pulled out a wider belt with his sword's sheath and strapped it across his back. There was a steel circle at his chest, leather straps pointing in three directions, the sheath centered on his back. He picked up the sword that lay on the floor beside our bed, swept it over his shoulder, and shoved into the sheath.

“What is that sword called?”

“Claymore.” He ran his hands through his hair. He had grown quiet, his expression was pensive.

I pushed my feet into a pair of strappy, overly high heels encrusted with rhinestones.

“You can walk in such a verra high shoe?”

“Boy, can I.” I strutted, catwalk style, across the carpet and back.

He chuckled. “Och aye, ye can.”

“It's cool with you that James will be there tonight?” I checked my makeup in the mirror.

“James Cook is the easiest man in the world. He is much like my uncle and my cousins. I am used tae men like him.”

I grabbed the keys to the Mustang off the dresser and we went down to the car.

When we entered the garage, Quentin was waiting for us. I said, “Oh, is he coming?”

“Aye, for protection.”

“Fine, but—” I jangled the keys. I really liked driving the Mustang, and it was mine now, officially. Mine. I had been kind of psyched to drive it. My own, really nice, fast, sexy car. It was a convertible. It wasn't sensible at all, unlike my Prius in almost every way.

Magnus smiled and said to Quentin, “Kaitlyn wants tae drive.”

Quentin said, “Yes sir,” and slid into the back seat as I climbed in behind the wheel.

“So, you're working for us now?” I looked at Quentin through the rearview mirror.

“Yes ma'am.”

“What the hell, Quentin, I am not your ma'am. I'm your exact same age. I've been in school with you since first grade. You have to call me Katie, same as always.”

“Okay.”

Magnus twisted around. “And I would like tae be called Magnus.”

“Yes, sir. I mean, yes, Magnus — sorry guys this is going to take some getting used to.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, totally.” I pulled the Mustang out of the garage. I got to drive. I looked awesome. My new husband was hot. The party was all about us. Quentin called Magnus 'sir.' Plus, I had a designated driver for the ride home. The day had started out scary as hell, but this night was getting our honeymoon back on track.

It was still daylight out, and would be for a while. It was hot, but not terribly. Eighty-eight degrees instead of ninety eight. In Florida you learn to be grateful for a few degrees of cool. And shade. And the bounteous awesomeness of AC.

The restaurant was in the historic downtown just off Center Street on a little side street that barely anyone went down. The restaurant was popular though, the food delicious, the ambiance good. The outdoor patio filled an entire lot and was surrounded by a low two-foot brick wall. Open air, it was strung around and through with little white lights. At night it had the feel of a grotto, although I didn't really know what a grotto was. But even during the day the patio was nice, shady, cool, because huge oak trees grew right up out of the middle of it. Their roots busted up the pavement all around. The tables, about twenty, were all a bit tilted one way or another because of the marvelous trees.

It had long been my favorite restaurant in the area. We were directed right to the patio where James, Hayley, and Michael had reserved six tables for the entire crew. Everyone I knew and then some were there and cheered when we walked in.

As soon as we got to the table the bartender, Rob, beelined for us, “Hand it over.”

Magnus sighed. “Tis always the same in these places. What if I need it?”

“If you need it, you just ask for it. But seriously, it's Fernandina Beach; you don't need a sword. Promise.”

Magnus handed the sword over but kept the sheath on his back, which was kind of hot, the straps stretched across his wide chest. The bartender continued to stand, hand out. “My dirk as well? Fine.” Magnus unsheathed the dirk he wore at his hip.

“Jeez man, these are heavy.” Rob carried them away and put them behind the bar.

James had his arm around a girl I didn't know. I was introduced to her, and then quickly forgot her name, because it was James, ex-boyfriend, philandering-ex-boyfriend. Plus I was a bride. Brides got to not care about anyone else; it was in the handbook. If he introduced me to her at a second event I would remember her name then.

Michael poured Magnus and I beers from the pitcher, and then everyone held up their cups, “To Katie and Magnus and their super fast, overly convenient, arranged-marriage!”

I said, “Hear hear!”

James called across the table, “So how're you liking marriage, Magnus? Is our Katie giving you her green card?” He chuckled like that was a great joke.

“Aye, I like it verra much. She's a bonnie lass.”

I chugged the last half of the beer and swiped my arm across my mouth. “I think what Magnus is too polite to say is yes, I've given him the ol' green card and would give it to him again right now if there was a spot with some privacy.” I leaned down to look under the table.

Magnus, James, Michael, the whole table burst into laughter.

Hayley said, “I don't want to interrupt your honeymoon, which sounds awesome so far, but Magnus, I need to borrow Katie tomorrow, so I can hear all the steamy details.”

I said, “You're coming to our place tomorrow for July Fourth anyway. We'll sneak away, and I'll tell you all about it.”

Magnus began a conversation with James and Micheal about hiring Quentin and how he made Quentin sit just outside the restaurant in the car. They all thought that was hilarious. I was poured another beer, and Hayley and I turned our conversation to living in my new house. Amazing, of course, because I had a staff. I never knew anyone with a full-time staff.

Hayley said, “I have a staff at work. But I don't get to order them around all day long, and I don't get to demand things twenty-four-seven. Having them around at night must be pretty weird. I mean, Zach lives there now. Emma. It's like you're running a little hotel.”

“It's way better than a hotel; they make ice cream for us in the middle of the night, and I don't have to worry about the bill. It's not weird at all. It's awesome. The security guards work in shifts and go home to sleep.”

“What happened to Lady Mairead?”

“OMG I forgot to tell you, she left last night, in the middle of the night, and...” I glanced at Magnus. We hadn't discussed whether the story was one I could share. And it crossed my mind that it would freak Hayley out. It was frankly unexplainable. It might also expose my new husband to undo scrutiny. I didn't even know everything about him, yet.

Hayley asked, “How'd she get to the airport, Uber or something?”

“Yep, weird huh? Magnus said she probably won't come back, so yeah, I'm the woman of the house now.”

“Well, I'll tell you what, girlfriend, that is the best news for you. You do not want your mother-in-law living with you. That would totally suck.” She raised a glass. “Let's chug.”

We both gulped down our beers and giggled merrily.

Magnus turned his attention back to me. “My head is beginning tae hurt from the noise.”

I tore strips off napkins and wadded them up. He leaned forward so I could tuck them into his ears. “Have your ears always been so sensitive?”

“Tis a recent issue.”

James poured another couple of beers for us. The girl he was with leaned across the table to yell, “James tells me y'all got married for his green card? I would never be able to do that. Are you going to actually live together or just pretend to be married?”

Hayley said, “She's not pretending to be married, it was in a church.” She rolled her eyes and gave me the 'see what I have to deal with' look.

“Well, James told me it was just business...”

I looked at James with my brow raised. “Really, you have a lot of opinions for someone who doesn't know how to keep their pants zipped up.”

He shrugged. “You should know. You were unzipping them just a few weeks ago.”

He glanced at Magnus, “Sorry man, habit. Katie and I have a long history due to the fact that I was there first.”

Michael's eyes went wide. “Shit James, the guy carries a sword. Keep your shit together.”

All eyes were on Magnus.

He shrugged. “I am aware of your long past history with my wife. But there is something ye need tae know about me. I was born a son of Clan Campbell. My father, I am told, is a king. My uncle is an Earl. My mother is a Duchess. My whole life I hae been ruled by men who rule simply because they were there first. But see, they will die. Or they will make the missteps of fools. And when they do, then I will take their crown and t'will be my turn tae rule as a king.”

“What is that supposed to mean, are you saying you'll rule Katie?”

Magnus chuckled “I think Kaitlyn is most unruly. I mean it dinna matter that ye were anywhere first, I am there, now, best.”

Michael fell forward on the table laughing.

James smiled. “Well, you are right about one thing, Katie being unruly.”

I grinned. “I can be ruled, if the person is firm enough. Magnus does very well in that respect.”

Micheal laughed so hard he fell out of his chair. “I wish Quentin was here he would be dying.”

Magnus nodded and looked down at the empty plate in front of him. He said quietly. “I would wish tae add, Master Cook, ye hae a long history with Kaitlyn Sheffield, and I know she values your friendship verra highly, but in the future I expect ye tae show my wife, Kaitlyn Campbell, the respect she deserves.”

James nodded. “Yeah, yeah sure, I get that.”

Magnus nodded. “Thank ye.”

Everyone was quiet, looking from James to Magnus, though they seemed to have come to an arrangement that they could deal with.

Hayley said, “Okay, now that we've been interrupted, what were we talking about?”

Magnus asked, “I wanted tae ask ye Mistress Hayley, do all women here speak with the same kind of mischievous tongue as Kaitlyn?”

Hayley said, “No way, Katie is a one of a kind. She has been saying crazy shit like that since forever.”

“It gets me in so much trouble.” I shook my head. “I try to keep it cool, but if I see the joke, I go for it. Can't stop myself.”

Magnus said, “Tis a wonderful wit, I marvel that such a boisterous voice comes from such a wee bonnie lass.”

James said, “Here's to Magnus and Katie, a woman with a sharp tongue, a man with a sharp sword, and a marriage of convenience.”

They all raised their glasses and drank robustly. But Magnus shook his head. “Aye, tis most true, but the marriage is nae for convenience...I hae vowed more.”

He turned in his chair to me and said slowly with meaning, “Kaitlyn, mo reul-iuiel, is ann leatsa a bhios mo chridhe gu bràth.”

My heart swelled.

Hayley whispered, “Do you know what he said?”

“No, but I can see what he means by his eyes.”

Magnus grinned. “It means I like ye.” He grabbed the pitcher of beer off the table, “Slainte!” And chugged more than half of it down. Then he passed it to me, and I finished off the last.

After that the conversation grew less testy and more fun.

Hayley, Michael, and James talked about past parties and adventures, and I joined in, and we laughed and told Magnus all about our wild youth, and he and James were even friendly.

His hand reached out to mine and rested on my knee.

When he got up for the bathroom, Hayley waited until he was gone and said, “Oh my god, I'm dying. I wondered if the church was just an act, but he is so into you. This is like, real.”

“It is, it — I can't explain how real it is. I feel so—”

“You're speechless. James, Michael, she's speechless.”

“I really like him, I mean, that's weird, because he's my husband, and I can barely get used to that, but you guys like him too, right?”

“I do, he's hot, he's really nice, and he's rich as hell. And he seems to like you a lot, so I'm a huge fan.”

Michael said, “Well, he didn't kill James after that 'I was there first' comment, so he's got to be some kind of superhero. Maybe he has an ass repelling tool. I would have punched a guy for saying that about my wife.”

Hayley laughed. “You don't have a wife!”

I turned to James. “What about you?”

He nodded. “I think he's great. I just don't want you to get hurt.”

“How's he going to hurt me?”

“You know, something about him isn't right — his backstory. I talked to you about it at the kickball game.”

“Because he doesn't know anything about soccer—”

“Football.”

“Football, maybe he's just not—”

Micheal said, “Katie, he didn't know anything about soccer. Even kids living in the mountains of Afghanistan know soccer. Kids in the Amazon know soccer.”

James corrected him. “Football. And he wears a freaking sword.” He leaned back and flicked a napkin away. “I like him, I do, and that's all I'll say. He can drink me under table, plus he carries a sword. Also he's your husband, apparently.”

Magnus was headed across the patio toward our table.

James said, “Plus, it's a wedding party. We're celebrating your future life together. Right Magnus? Friends forever?”

Magnus said, “Aye. I am happy tae know ye.” He sank into his chair as the waiter brought trays of appetizers and placed one at every table. Magnus studied one of the trays. “What's this then?”

“Mozzarella sticks, careful, super hot inside.”

He bit into one and puffed and grimaced because I was indeed right. Then he smiled, chewing. “This is delicious! Could Chef Zach make this dish?”

Michael overheard. “He could, but he won't. That's junk food, he likes his food pretentious and hip.”

Magnus said, “I think he will be jealous I tasted something he didn't cook. You will come tomorrow, to our house for the four month of July party?”

James grinned. “The Fourth of July, man. Independence from Great Britain. When we fought against that King, what was his name?” He watched Magnus waiting.

Magnus looked blank for a second. “Was it Charles?”

James squinted his eyes. “King George.”

Michael, totally oblivious to the point James was trying to make, said, “How did you remember that?”

“It's been crammed down my throat since I was five.”

Magnus said, “I suppose in England we daena wish tae talk about losing the New World. I haena remembered it.”

James said, “Yeah, that's probably it.”

We ate heaping piles of mozzarella cheese sticks, and a blooming onion. It was twilight, the little twinkling string lights glowed over our heads, and the scented citronella torches wafted around the patio. Cicadas hummed. It was still steaming hot though, even with night coming on. “You don't want to take off your coat?”

“Tis possible I may need it.” He straightened the front, where it clung to his body. He looked very handsome in it. Broad shoulders, angled jaw line.

“You got your dirk back.”

“I did. On the way tae the necessary room, I went tae the bar and explained tae the bartender that wearing my dirk was a part of my whole suit. Without it I am just a man in a skirt, with it I am a true Scottish Highlander at his wedding party. He relented, but would nae give me my Claymore. I dinna ken.”

I jokingly rolled my eyes. “Makes no sense, it's only five feet long.”

An elderly couple interrupted us. “Excuse us, Dearie, we overheard that this is your wedding party?”

I said, “It is.”

“My husband and I have been watching from across the patio, and you're looking at each other just the way I remember looking at my dear Arnold, fifty-five years ago. Right, Arnie?”

Her husband said, “Aye.”

I said, “Oh, are you Scottish?”

Arnold said, “American now, but Scottish in my blood. You're Campbell clan?”

Magnus said, “Aye.”

“I'm Clan Munro. Wore my kilt on my wedding day too. And if you keep looking at her like this, you'll have a long and happy life, my friend.”

His wife said, “Ah yes, it warms my heart to see two young people in this much love. May your hearts stay full, your bed happy, and your voices kind.”

“Thank you,” I said and felt a bit weepy about it all.

She and her husband congratulated us once more and left the restaurant.

Magnus said, “Kaitlyn, I think tis time for us tae go as well.”

Hayley said, “Stay! One more thing — you guys need to dance. I'll take pictures!”

“Dance?”

I said, “Yes please can't we stay, please?” I batted my eyes. “After a wedding the bride and groom have a sworn duty to sway in circles together in front of their friends and family. Just once, maybe twice. We'll leave after? Maybe after another drink?”

Hayley said, “I'll go request your favorite song.” She ran away without even asking what it was.

Magnus's hand rested gently on my thigh. I loved a big strong hand so stilled and gentle, I wrapped his in both of mine and held it tightly.

It washed over me again that he was all mine — this felt so much like a first date, I had to keep reminding myself.

“I am nae certain I know how tae dance.”

“Honestly, all you have to do is put a hand on my hip and smile like you're enjoying it. I'll do everything else.”

Hayley came buzzing back with the newest super sexy Rihanna song playing through the patio's sound system. “See? Anything by Rihanna, your favorite. For years.”

“It is, isn't it?” I stood, held out my hand to Magnus, and led him a few steps away to an open space where the weekend musicians usually sat and played.

I faced Magnus and stepped closer. I drew his hand around my waist, centered it on my lower back, and began to rock to the music. Our other hands entwined and he held them to his chest. His lips on my forehead, my hips swaying. His hand lowered on my back, holding, a little bit pressing. I said, “See? Easy, just count the beat...”

He said, “Tis nae easy. Tis hard tae count now I know how wee your undergarments are under your dress.” For that I pressed closer and swayed a bit more.

“Tis hard for me too, now I know what's under your dress.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Ah, Kaitlyn, you art a won—” His eyes went to the sky and he stopped. “What is — a storm?” He looked wildly left and right.

I said, “And horses.”

“What?”

He pulled the paper wads from his ears as the front legs of a giant horse with a man yelling “Ha!” bounded over the low wall crashing down against a table. The table flew to the side. Chairs tumbled and crashed. The horse's back legs hit the patio with a rush. People screamed and ran for cover. The horse, ridden by a man, dressed in a dark cloak, tromped and spun, huge, menacing, trashing the patio all around underfoot.

The horse's legs tipped tables and smashed chairs.

In the sky above a bank of clouds rolled, roiled, and rumbled higher, the color of dark gray, almost soot black, climbing. Lightning arcing. A flash struck the road right in front of the restaurant. People scrambled away, diving over the wall as a second horse with a cloaked rider crashed over and trampled and spun. The wind was blustering around. The two men were yelling. The horses destroying everything in their path—

Magnus grabbed my arm, hard — twisting it. He shoved me toward a low wall. A flung chair crashed into us, knocking me to the ground, right behind an overturned table — Magnus landed on me with a crush. Pain shot through the side of my thigh as it landed on a metal table leg, with Magnus's full weight on top of me. I screamed, loud. Magnus gripped both of my hands, painfully, “Kaitlyn, Kaitlyn! Shhhhhh, daena be afeared, shhhhhhh, I will come back, I will do whatever it takes tae get back tae ye.” His face was an inch from mine, his whole weight on me, pressing. His hands gripped around mine. His voice beseeching. “Nae matter what, I am trying tae come home tae ye, I—”

I screamed again as another chair crashed onto his back. “Shhhh, daena be afeared.” I clamped my eyes shut.

“Kaitlyn, look at me, I need ye tae run and get my sword. Stay low, slide it tae me. Okay?”

I nodded.

He climbed up from my body and looked out from behind the table top. Then he jumped and ran at the men on horseback, unsheathing his dirk as he raced. In three steps Magnus leapt with his blade raised.

I scrambled up, checked my path, shoved a chair out of my way, and ran, in my heels, across so much overturned furniture, broken dishes, spilled glasses, picking my way, ankles twisting, repeating to myself, “Go, go, go, get the sword, go.”

Behind me Magnus roared as he fought.

I swung myself under the bar. “I need the sword!”

Rob, the bartender, glanced up from where he crouched, eyes wide, and gestured with his head toward the sword on a shelf a few feet away. I scrambled to it, grasped it with two hands, and dragged it to the ground. It was so fucking heavy. Why was it so heavy? Using momentum, I swung it beside me and half-dragged it around the bar.

Magnus was close, facing away. One, two, three, I hurled it toward his feet. The sword slid, then stopped short by about three feet — I burst into tears.

Magnus lunged at one of the men, then deftly jumped to the side, three steps, bent for the sword, swung it in an arc behind him, and roared forward, swinging wildly.

The first man dropped from the horse, swinging in return. Their swords clanked, metal on metal, sharp scraping sounds, clank, crash, crank, crashing, wind howling, people screaming. The wind whipped the tree limbs, flying paper in gusts. My hair was wild in my face.

People cowered all around the edges of the outer wall.

I slid to the ground, and shoved myself backwards to the bar, cowering around my knees while I tried to breathe.

Thunder crashed. The air sizzled as lighting struck a chair leg. It electrified, popped up like corn, and banged to the ground. The whole place smelled like fire.

I peeked around the bar as Magnus roared forward, swinging his sword wildly.

Quentin jumped over the lower wall, crouched low, and ran to my side. “You okay?”

“Do something, please, please, do something!”

He peeked out from behind the bar. “Can you follow me to the wall?”

I clutched at his shirt sleeve. “I need you to help him, Quentin, help him!”

“My orders are to keep you safe.”

He yanked me up by my forearm and pushed me toward the opposite side of the patio. In a low run I raced toward Hayley, Michael, and James. I tripped at the end, stumbling, and someone's hands grabbed me under my arms and yanked me over the wall, scraping my thighs.

Quentin scrambled over the wall just behind me, but my view was this: Magnus doubled over. The man he was fighting brought his sword down in an arc, hitting him with a blunt blow. Magnus stumbled under the force of it, his knees and hands hitting the stone patio. I screamed. Magnus had almost been killed. Ohmygod, ohmygod, Magnus was going to be killed.

James to Micheal on one side of me, “You concealing?”

“Nah man, it's a wedding party. It's at home.”

James said, “Shit, mine's in my glove compartment.”

Quentin on the other side of me pulled his pistol. “I just need a clean shot.”

Hayley was hunkered down right behind me, her phone to her ear. “Yes, I have an emergency. Yes, there's a sword fight with horses in the middle of the Cafe on Third Street.”

The wind whipped my hair in every direction. I said to Hayley, “Don't get him in trouble, it's not his fault.”

The man swung his sword around to attack again, but Magnus recovered his footing, and arced his sword up. The force of it set the man off balance. He stumbled back as Magnus, swung around with his dirk, forcing the man to lose his footing and fall to the ground.

Magnus dropped onto him, holding him down by the throat, and thrust his hand in the man's sporran. He sifted through the contents, tossing them away, diving his hand into the sporran again. He yelled into the man's face, “Where is it!”

Magnus stood, looked wildly left and right and focused on the second man on horseback now on the road in front of the restaurant. Magnus ran in two big leaping steps to the wall, bounded over it, and charged the second man, with a bellowing war cry.

I screamed “Magnus!”

The second man swung his sword down. Magnus ducked just in time, narrowly missing a wallop to the head.

James said, “We've got to help him, man.”

The wind was whipping around the street, leaves, paper, debris spinning. He and Micheal ran across the patio toward the front of the restaurant. Quentin stood. “Katie, don't move, stay right here,” and ran after them.

Magnus and the man on horseback were in a full spectacular sword fight. Magnus swinging up, the man carving down, the horse turning and stamping, and making that crazed screaming sound. The first man stood, climbed back on his rearing horse, and jumped it over the wall to the road to join the fight.

Magnus was lunging and backing and ducking — dust and sand spun in gusts around his body. He stumbled back three steps and the man on horseback deftly turned and charged him. Magnus dodged out of the way, twisted, but the man slashed his sword down on Magnus's left shoulder. Magnus yelled in pain and stumbled, clutching his shoulder, dragging the sword behind him. A bloom of blood red appeared on his sleeve. Two men were circling him now, two horses rearing, two swords arcing toward him.

Magnus charged the second man on horseback, bellowing, using momentum to drag his sword up in an arc — a forceful blow aimed at the man's side. The man jerked sideways, dropped his sword, but was able to hold the reins.

Magnus swung his sword up and slid it into the sheath on his back. The man turned his horse around and charged again.

Quentin yelled to Magnus, “I've got a shot! Want me to shoot?”

Magnus whipped around. “Take it, now!” And Quentin fired, hitting the stranger in the shoulder. The man jerked backward, then slumped forward as Magnus grabbed the reins and yanked the horse's head sharply to the side, drawing it to a shrieking, trampling halt. Then Magnus swung up behind the rider. In one second he had his dirk at the man's throat, his other hand diving into the man's sporran, as their horse raced down the street with the first man on horseback thundering just behind them.

An arc of lightning flared around them as they disappeared down the street. The storm rose and roiled and thundered. Lightning flashed, and for a terrible moment the storm grew even more frightening, cutting our visibility to zero with gale force winds. Then suddenly it rolled and rumbled and rushed away.

I scrambled to my feet and screamed at James, Micheal, and Quentin, “Get him, oh my god, get him!”

“We'll find him Katie,” James called. He and Micheal dropped off the wall to the road and raced down the street.

Quentin returned to my side.

“Shouldn't you go look for him too?”

His jaw was set, firm, security-guard-business-like, but his eyes looked as confused as mine. “Magnus told me not to leave your side.”

The air stillsmelled burnt. The sky had the glowing pallor of an extreme weather incident, green, like some shit just went down. Sirens were wailing from a near distance. Dust was settling. Rubble was adjusting and falling.

The bartender stood and called out. “Anyone hurt?”

Restaurant diners climbed up from their hiding places, carefully picking places to step. The place was trashed, food, plates, glassware, blood, grime. One of the horses had pooped right in the middle of it all.

The wails of the sirens were close, just around the corner. Then three police cars screeched to a stop along the front of the restaurant. Police rushed the patio.

Rob, the bartender, along with the chef, and the manager, met them at the front gate and tried to explain.

The world had gone slow-mo around me.

Hayley was clutching my arm. My hands were shaking. I knew this much. I had hands, they weren't behaving right. All my blood had rushed to my head, and my ears had stopped working — buzzing like an hour after a Foo Fighters's concert. My eyes were searching around, independent of my brain, my body, my other senses. I was disjointed. Discombobulated. Undone.

I heard the bartender say, “One of our patrons. Yes, he's a local. It was his wedding party. Two guys assaulted him and they went off that way. That's his wife over there.”

He pointed in my direction.

My head was spinning.

I stared in the direction that James and Micheal had gone.

Hayley's voice emerged from my fog. “Where do you think they went?”

An ambulance and a fire truck pulled up outside. The police voices on the radio said, “We have a sword fight, apparently on horseback.”

Across the patio over the wall in the middle of the road another police officer was walking around a small puddle of Magnus's blood. Magnus was hurt. He needed an ambulance. Where was he?

James and Micheal returned, doubled over and out of breath. They spoke to the police out in the road, pointing in the direction they had already checked.

I convinced my feet to walk toward them. James shook his head. “We didn't see him Katie, but the police are sending out a car.”

A police car sped away as he said it.

“But he went that way. They were right there. You didn't look hard enough. Oh god.” I clutched my face, holding onto my jaw trying to get it to stop chattering.

James said, “We looked. We went as fast as we could. There was no sign of them. Who were those guys?”

I shook my head.

Micheal said, “What if they went toward the docks? Let's get your truck, James, and go look. Officer Brand, do you need us any more?”

“No one can leave until we've secured the area.”

What followed took hours.

There were gold coins on the ground that were unexplainable, so there was a mystery, a trashed restaurant, a missing husband.

I wanted to see the coins, the sword that the first man left behind; there was a familiarity to them that I needed to investigate. But they were impounded before I could calm down enough to ask.

Quentin stood beside me the entire time. He answered questions, a lot of questions, because he had discharged his weapon in downtown Fernandina Beach. Reports had to be filed.

I needed to pee, but he asked me to please hold tight until he was through. He didn't want me out of his sight for some reason. I asked him, “Do you think Magnus could be home already, waiting for me?”

“I don't know, I hope so.”

The questions the police asked of me were the most difficult. How long had I known him? Did he tell me he had enemies?

Yes, he paid for security around the clock, plus he was armed. Yes, he had enemies. I don't know why — maybe because he was royal? Yes.

When asked to elaborate I couldn't, because none of my answers jibed with what I knew about European politics.

So I repeated it again, as if repetition would make it real. He was a royal. That was true. His enemies were because he was a royal. James corroborated. So did Quentin. If enough of us agreed it might be true.

The police set up a command center. A helicopter was called in. Cars were searching and reporting back. Police were bustling around. And then later, much later, I was asked if I would be available for questioning the following day.

“But you'll find him, right? Before tomorrow? He couldn't have gone far — he was injured. The other man on the horse had a gunshot wound. They were all on horseback. Where would they be? He...”

I trailed off because the faces of the men and women around me looked so blank, completely noncommittal, kind of hopeless.

Finally, we were free to go. I said goodbye to everyone. James hugged me in a bear hug. “Micheal and I are going to keep looking Katie. I don't know what happened to him, but we'll find him.”

“Call me, as soon as you know anything?”

“Of course.”

I hugged Michael and then Hayley for a really long time. “That was so scary! Katie, where did he go?”

“I don't know. That was...” It had been terrifying, abrupt, and physically hard. My adrenalin had pumped through my body, then left so drastically, now I felt like throwing up. And it was way dark out.

I checked my phone, dead. Great, what if Magnus was trying to — he wouldn't though. He didn't have a phone. “Do you know what time it is?”

Hayley said, “Eleven-twenty.”

“I'm so tired.”

“I know, Sweetie, you go home, try to rest. James and Micheal will find him. When you wake up in the morning he'll be there.”

Quentin led me to the Mustang. He talked nervously. “I was out here, feet up on the dash. He told me what to look out for, but I didn't really think he meant it, you know? Jeez, I can't believe I shot someone, and then there's nothing. Jeez. He's just gone. Gone.”

He helped me into the back seat and raised the roof.

Then he drove in silence until I asked, “What were your orders exactly?”

“He told me to listen for a storm, and if there was one to come to the restaurant. He told me to guard you. No matter what. And that I shouldn't intervene unless I was at a distance with a good clean shot.”

“I don't understand why protecting him wasn't your job. What did he think would happen to me? They were clearly after him.”

He sat quietly for a few minutes, but kept glancing in the rearview mirror at me, like he was uncomfortable.

I asked, “What, tell me.”

“I got the impression I wasn't really protecting you, but guarding you to keep you out of it.”

“I'm not that hotheaded. I'm not going to jump into a fight with swords.”

“I don't know, I think he knew he was leaving and didn't want you to follow him.”

I humphed angrily. “How the hell would he be leaving? From the middle of Center Street, an island, on a horse? He doesn't have goddam wings. Or even a phone to call an Uber. Did you call him an Uber?”

“No Katie.”

“Yeah, so that's just speculation. I don't want to hear any more about him leaving me. That's just not fair and don't you dare tell the police that; they'll stop looking for him. I can already hear it in their voices. They think he left me — he married me and left me. Well, that's not what happened.”

I glowered out the window, then added, “His last words to me were, 'I'm coming back.'”

He said, “Yeah Katie, I won't mention it again.” He turned up our street. “But if you think about it, he said, 'I'm coming back,' like he knew he was leaving. That's all I meant. He kept saying things that sounded like he was.”

I glanced at his eyes, irritated, partly because it was true. Magnus had been saying goodbye since we met. The whole reason we got married was because he wanted to leave, and Lady Mairead wanted him to stay. Well, guess what, it didn't work. I didn't work. I wasn't enough.

We pulled into my driveway.

When I opened the front door of the house, everyone rushed me with questions. Apparently Quentin had called the other security guy, and he told Zach and Emma, but now it was up to me to give the blow-by-blow.

Two hours ago, on pure adrenalin and agitation, I would have been up to the chore and then some. I probably would have embellished and dramatized it. Now, exhausted, scared, and broken, I wasn't up to the task. Quentin told them all about it, from when he arrived, so they didn't hear about how I stuffed wads of napkin in Magnus's ears so he didn't hear them coming. How I begged him to stay longer at the restaurant though he wanted to leave and come home.

How a freaking horse leapt over a wall in downtown Fernandina Beach and just about killed us. How I almost got Magnus killed.

Or maybe I did.

Because he wasn't here.

What the hell happened — my husband got into a sword fight and disappeared on the back of a horse?

While Quentin told them the story, I listened. And it sounded crazy. Like a movie that involved superheroes and villains-with-robotic-appendages crazy. Fernandina Beach was a super small town; how could this be the kind of thing that happened here?

I asked Zach. “Do you think he left me?”

Zach lightly tapped his fingers on the table. “He kept mentioning that he needed to leave, but it was an 'if.' I don't think it was about you at all, but I don't know. I know it was a strong if.” He dropped his head to his hands. “He told me I would stay on to cook for Lady Mariead. Now neither of them are here. I — Katie, do I still have a job? Emma and I really liked it here and— “

I said vaguely, “We'll talk about that tomorrow...” and stared down at my hands thinking about all the decisions I would need to make. It had only been that morning when I signed all those contracts. I was in charge of Magnus's fortune, and he was missing, and...

Zach's face looked worried.

I said, “You know, that's unfair, I'm sorry. Magnus thinks the world of you, of all of you. Of course you still have jobs.” I took a deep breath. “None of this matters though, because he'll be here any minute now. Worst-case scenario, tomorrow.”

Quentin asked, “Katie, could I go out looking?”

I said with as much snark as I could muster, “I don't know, you think Magnus is okay with you leaving my side?”

He chewed his lip, then said, “Katie, I've only had this job for a few hours. I did the best I could. I followed his orders because it was my job to.”

I glared at him for a moment, but I couldn't stay mad because it was a hundred percent true. “Yeah. You're right, I just, I'm pretty overwhelmed and… I'd appreciate it if you'd go looking, thank you.”

Quentin stood from the table and headed for the front door.

Zach jumped up to get me a cup of chamomile tea and some aspirin.

Emma said, “The police, James and Micheal, Quentin, they're all looking for him. He's on horseback, they'll find him.”

“Yeah, that's the only thing that makes sense.”

I took a sip of tea and realized I needed to get into bed or I would pass out right there on the table.