Everything happens so fast. In one fraction of a second, I notice how heavily he’s slumped against my back. Half a heartbeat later, something knocks my shoulder, and I realize Liam is falling to the ground.

At first I think he jumped off, but a frantic blink shows me he’s crumpled on the grass.

“Liam!”

I’m tossing one leg over the top of the saddle before I jerk Peg’s reins, so when I dismount, I land on the grass with some bounce.

“Liam…” I’m reaching for him several steps before I’m close enough to drop down beside him. The moment my knees hit the grass, Liam rolls from his side onto his back, groaning as his eyes blink.

“Oh my God, are you okay?”

His brows draw down over his squinting eyes. The corners of his lips turn down. I notice that his face is white, so white it’s almost gray.

“Oh God, Liam—can you move?” My voice cracks as my right hand hovers over his forehead.

Finally, his gaze finds mine. His eyelids are heavy and his eyes glassy, but I feel better with him looking at me. I grab onto his hand, then let it go because if he can’t move, I might hurt him.

“I…can.” The words are grunted; low. He shifts his shoulders, then, before I can protest, he’s sitting up. He brings his hand up to his forehead, leaning over just a little. His mouth is still drawn up.

“What happened? Should I call somebody?”

“No.” He starts to shake his head, then stops abruptly, squinting from between his fingers. “No. I’m okay.”

He starts to get up, and I grab him by the bicep, helping balance him as best I can, considering I’m so much smaller. When he’s fully on his feet, he groans again, and winces—and I notice he’s holding his right arm at a weird angle.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t call someone?” My voice is shaking. My body is shaking. “I’m worried.”

His left hand reaches for my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I don’t know…” He shakes his head slowly. I watch him look down at his right arm, mouth pressing into a flat line as he straightens it. “I don’t know what happened,” he says quietly.

“I think you should let me call someone. I don’t think you should get back on the horse.”

“I can walk back.” His gaze moves to the trees around us.

“Are we close?”

“Yeah.” He rubs a hand over his eyes, then shifts his attention to my face. “Are you okay?”

“Of course! I’m fine. Are you sure you’re okay? What was that?”

“My head…” He blinks slowly. “I just need to get home.” His eyes shut for a moment. “You should ride Peg back.”

“Are you kidding me? No way.”

“It’s just…through there.”

It turns out Liam is right. We’re maybe two hundred yards from the castle. We walk arm in arm the whole way back, with Peg following behind Liam like some kind of big, obedient dog.

A few times, I think I feel Liam shudder, but I’m probably imagining things. He’s walking fine and talking fine and says his head isn’t hurting—at least not in a concussion sort of way. Obviously, he landed on his arm. He tells me he gets migraines sometimes; it’s nothing new.

Still—I have a feeling he’s trying to downplay how badly his shoulder hurts. I know I’m right when we reach the spotlighted lawn of the castle. In the low light, I see his face tighten when he moves his right arm.

“You must have landed on that side.”

He nods. When Liam notices me staring at him, he bumps me with his left shoulder. “Lucy…” He smiles faintly, then arches his brows. His face looks tired; he still looks pale, but he smirks a little as he looks into my eyes and tells me, “I’m okay.”

“If you say so.”

He pulls his arm from where it’s laced through the crook of my elbow and takes my hand. His is warm and slightly damp, but its fingers seem to know just what they’re doing, stroking mine with care. We go into a door I’ve never seen before, which leads into what appears to be a giant storage room.

“Kitchen stuff,” he says as he steers me between tall shelves.

At the far end of the room, Liam lets my hand go and opens a wide door. It puts us out at the bottom of the narrow staff staircase.

“Can you do the stairs?” I whisper.

Liam smirks. “Lucy.”

“Hey, just checking.” I stick my tongue out at him, and Liam gives me one of his sweet smiles.

We pass a female member of the help staff, dressed in a black and white apron outfit, as we walk toward our rooms. She nods at us, and Liam nods back. When we get to his room, he stops outside his door and grabs my shoulder.

“Luce…” He pulls me up against him, harder than I was expecting. “Thank you,” he whispers into my hair.

I pull away a little, so I can look into his eyes. “Are you going to call a doctor? For your shoulder?”

“Yeah, the castle has someone.” His eyes explore the hallway wall behind me for a small moment before returning to mine. “Do you want to take a few days? Do some traveling? I can send a guard.”

I realize with a start that he must want me to go.

“Do you think your migraine will be around for a while?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re pretty sure that’s what it is? I’m still worried, you know.”

He smiles, crooked. “Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t worry, Lucy Su. I’m just going to sleep it off.”

“Okay.” Is that why he wants me gone, or is there some other reason?

“I’ll have Mora recommend some places and Heath or Ain get some reservations for you, wherever you want to go.”

Tears fill my eyes. I have to blink quickly to hide them. I keep my voice steady as I tell him, “I don’t have to come back after that. Just let me know what’s on your schedule.”

“Lucy—” He shuts his eyes, inhaling deeply before he opens them. “I want you to.”

I can’t help a small smile. “Okay.”

“Text me?”

“Sure.”

He leans in for a light kiss. When he lingers there, his mouth inches from mine, I run a hand over his bearded jawline. “Take care, Liam. You sure you don’t need anything?”

He nods, one half of his mouth tugging up into a small, strained smile. “Thanks, Lucy.”

“Thank you.”

We kiss once more—it’s short and sweet—before Liam disappears into his rooms. I stand outside his door for a few minutes, wishing we were close enough that I could go inside and snuggle up to him. I don’t like leaving knowing that he’s sick.

Eventually, I give in to reason and go into my own room, where I perch in one of the chairs and text Amelia.

‘OMG AM!!!!!!! I told him!!! And it went AMAZINGLY! Prince Liam is the best guy ever. I’m not even kidding you. #Swooning <3’

I lie on my bed, Grey purring at my feet, for hours while Amelia and I text. About Liam and me. About Am and Dash. About the woodsy, sweet smell of the air here and the irritation of working on an animated movie. Sometime around 10 p.m. my time, I notice a long text from Heath that, at a glance, looks to be about B&Bs. I decide to read it later. In the morning.

For now, I fill my giant, sunken tub, running the water lukewarm for the baby, but with bubbles so it’s still a little fun.

When I emerge, wrapped in my robe, I find milk and cookies on my bed side table, as well as a printed itinerary.

Heath says these are Liam’s favorite places. –Pete

It’s not until I wake up around 3 a.m. to use the restroom that I notice: Grey is gone.

An hour and a half later, I’ve checked almost the whole damn castle, so I’m pretty sure Gray is in Liam’s rooms. At least, I’m hoping he is.

I stand outside Liam’s door for the longest time, listening for noise, trying to see if he’s asleep. His big, thick door is slightly cracked, which makes me feel more sure Grey must be in there.

I guess whoever brought the paper itinerary and cookies must have let him out by accident. If they brought something to Liam at the same time—and left his door open—it makes sense that Grey might have run across the hall.

I don’t want to intrude on Liam, especially when he thinks he won’t be seeing me for several days, but if I can’t find Grey…

I push the door open slowly, spilling a triangle of golden light into the darkened room.

Shit! I’m going to wake Liam. I crouch down and crab-walk my way into the room, praying that if Grey’s in here, he’ll...I don’t know, smell me or something and come out. As I creep along the rug, I notice movement along one of the walls. I pause for long enough to realize it’s the night breeze blowing through the curtains.

Before I start to move again, I glance up at the bed—and spy a pair of glowing, green cat eyes. The moment I spot Grey, he shoots down off the bed and out the door. I rise quickly, turning toward the door. Despite my need to follow Grey and get him into my room, my gaze glues itself to the bed.

If shadow vision serves me right, Liam is lying on his side, his body curled into a big “C” underneath the covers. After a second looking at him with a mix of hunger and concern, I realize he’s covering his face with both hands.

“Liam?” I don’t mean to speak, just like I don’t mean to move closer to the bed. But here I am. I’m right beside him. I can see he’s shirtless underneath the sheets, can see his shoulders drawn up. I can see him…is he shaking?

“Liam? Are you okay?”

His body tenses. Then, in a low, strained voice, he says, “It hurts…”

“What hurts?” My voice sounds breathless. My heart pounds. I lean down so I’m close enough to see the pain on his face.

“Is it the light?” I whisper.

“Yeah.” He holds his forehead with his big hand, and I want to kick myself for leaving the door open.

“Oh damn, let me close it.” I pull the door shut and return to his bedside. He’s got both hands over his face again, and through the wall of his fingers, I can hear him breathing heavily.

“Hey Liam… What’s wrong?”

“I have a headache,” he moans. “Really bad.”

“Is it a migraine?”

“I don’t know.” The words are almost whimpered.

I look around for his phone or an intercom, my eyes distracted by a tumbler on the bedside table. “Is this liquor?” I sniff it, and Liam lets out a breath I hadn’t even known he’d been holding.

I stand there, listening to his measured breaths, and wonder what the hell is the right thing to do.

“I’m calling someone,” I whisper. “I think you need some medicine or something.”

“Heath.”

I’m pulling my phone out of my robe pocket when Liam rasps, “Five-two-two. Over on…the intercom.”

I hit the sequence of numbers, watch Liam flinch at the soft crackle, and hold my breath until his cousin answers, “Yeah?”

“Heath? Hi. It’s Lucy. Rhodes. Um…I was wondering, have you seen Liam tonight?”

“No,” he answers. “Why?”

“He has a bad headache.”

“Okay…”

“I think he needs a doctor.”

Heath makes a sound that I can’t quite ID as a laugh or a snort. “A doctor? For a headache?”

“Yeah. Is there a castle doctor? For his migraines?”

“For his migraines?” Heath sounds incredulous. “Liam doesn’t get migraines.”

“He doesn’t?”

Liam clutches his head, fingers digging into his skull, and my body goes ice cold. I stare down at him as Heath says, “Fuck no. Nothing’s wrong with Liam like that. What have you been doing with him?”

“Doing? Nothing. We were camping and he fell off his horse.”

“Liam fell off a horse? Is he fucked up on something?”

“No. I promise.”

Heath sighs. “All right, Lucy Rhodes. You better not be lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I’ll send someone.” There’s a short pause, followed by, “Please be discreet. My cousin doesn’t need any bullshit right now. I’m not sure if he made you sign the castle’s NDA, but—”

“I would never.”

He snorts. “Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t do that. And Heath?”

“Yes?” He sounds exasperated.

“Tell whoever you call to hurry up.”

I hear the click of Heath hang up the phone—or leave the intercom, or whatever it is he’s doing. Then I’m in the dark again with Liam. He’s breathing hard and sounds like he’s in awful pain.

I lean carefully over him, daring to rest my fingertips on his forehead. “Hey…” I gently stroke a strand of his hair. “I’m sorry. Is there anything that I can do?”

His lips flatten as he shakes his head, and I see a tear drip down his cheek. It makes me feel sick, seeing him like this.

“I’m so sorry.” In the dark, quiet room, my voice sounds loud.

I take one of his hands in both of mine and stroke his long, strong fingers as he writhes and pants.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps.

“No—don’t be. If the doctor doesn’t get here soon, I’ll call again. And if you know of something I could do to help, just tell me.” I lean down and kiss his forehead. “I’m here with you. I’m so sorry you’re in pain.”

As I lean against the bed, my eyes go back to his nightstand. I stare at the liquid in the tumbler, thinking how awful he must feel to guzzle liquor for his headache. What could be wrong?

He’s been quiet and still for a few minutes when I lift my hand off his hair. His hand in mine squeezes. I press a kiss on his knuckles, then climb carefully up onto the bed beside him. I can’t help thinking how much this reminds me of the first night we met.

He stayed with me; I’m going to stay with him.

Sometime not much later, I hear a slight click, and turn and find a man in khakis and a plaid shirt standing in the door. He’s got thinning gray hair and black hipster glasses, which look strange on his oval-shaped face. As he steps inside, he takes a flashlight from what looks to be a briefcase.

“Liam?”

Liam covers his face with my hand and his. I watch the man’s eyes widen slightly as he realizes Liam feels too bad to talk.

His gaze meets mine. “What’s this?”

I recount what happened on the horse and what Liam told me about migraines. When I say that particular bit, his eyebrows narrow.

“I’m Doctor Burns,” he tells me as he turns the bedside lamp on. His eyes sweep the room, lingering on the table by the bed. He picks up the drink and has a swallow.

His mouth is tight as he motions me away from Liam, who’s lying on his back now. The doctor takes a stethoscope and listens to Liam’s pulse and shines a flashlight into his eyes.

“Fuck,” Liam groans, recoiling.

The doctor’s gaze moves from Liam to me. “What’s he had?”

“You mean like—”

“Drugs.”

“Um, nothing. Nothing that I know of. We didn’t…”

The doctor doesn’t even look at me as I trail off; he fishes in his bag, eventually pulling out a blood pressure cuff. Liam’s eyes remain shut, his face still and pale, as Dr. Burns wraps the cuff around his bicep and presses a small, black button on the attached box, making the cuff inflate.

Liam shifts as it gets tighter. “Lucy?”

“I’m right here.” I gently touch the hand in the cuff. “Oh wait… This is his right arm! He fell off his horse and landed on it.”

“He fell off a horse?”

I nod. “Yeah. I told his cousin that. It was like he passed out.”

“What time was that?”

“Earlier. Um, maybe five or six hours ago. Or seven.”

The doctor takes another swig of Liam’s drink, and I’m kind of surprised he’s drinking on the job.

When the blood pressure cuff beeps and deflates, I look at the number, even though I know it’s nosy—and am stunned to see the reading: 220/111.

I can feel my mouth hang open. “That’s really high, right?”

The doctor’s face is set, his brow rumpled, his mouth pressed into the thinnest line.

“How long, Liam?”

I frown down at Liam, clutching his head with his free hand, the cuff still around his bicep.

“How long?” the doctor asks again.

“Maybe April.”

I frown. It’s the first week of September. What are they talking about April?

“Did you sign the castle NDA?” the doctor asks me.

I nod on impulse, sincere in my intentions if not honest.

His blue eyes move from Liam to the nightstand, and finally back to me. He picks the glass up as he looks into my eyes. “It seems Liam here is in alcohol withdrawal.”