Free Truth about Leo by Katie MacAlister

Witnessed.”
    She managed to smile wanly. “I will sign a statement that, once married, I relinquish all claims upon you.”
    Frederick thought for a moment then shrugged. “Very well, I give this marriage my blessing. I will instruct the bishop to marry you this afternoon. Be at the church in—”
    â€œNo, it has to be at Yellow House,” Dagmar interrupted, getting wearily to her feet.
    Frederick never liked being interrupted. He scowled at her. “And why is that?”
    â€œI told you that the major was wounded. The bishop will just have to come to my house—your Yellow House—to marry us there. Don’t neglect to tell the bishop that the major is slightly feverish and might ramble a little bit.”
    â€œI won’t neglect to do that,” Frederick said, regarding her as one of the more repugnant species of insects. “I pity the poor fellow, but it’s nothing to do with me. So long as you’re out of Copenhagen in the next few days, I will advise the bishop to marry you no matter what the groom’s circumstances.”
    And so it was that early in the afternoon, Dagmar Marie Sophie, Princess of Sonderburg-Beck became Dagmar Marie Sophie, Princess of Sonderburg-Beck and Mrs. Leo Mortimer.
    The bishop hadn’t wanted to perform the office, but blanched when Dagmar, having had less than an hour’s sleep, told him in no uncertain terms just what the crown prince would do if he found out that his commands were being ignored. Dagmar’s small bedroom was filled with various clergymen, there to act as witnesses to this important event, and all of them stared with varying degrees of pity and disbelief at the raving man who thrashed on the bed.
    Leo was in full grip of the fever, his face wet with perspiration, bright red circles high on either cheek. Dagmar, sitting on the bed next to him, wiped his face and leaned down to whisper, “Leo, the bishop has asked if you take me as your wife. You must say yes. Can you do that?”
    His eyes opened, but they were glazed and unfocused. “Hrn?”
    Dagmar turned to the bishop. “He said yes, he will marry me.”
    â€œHe did?” The bishop frowned.
    â€œHe said it in English. He is an Englishman. Thus, he speaks in English when he’s feeling out of sorts.”
    â€œOut of sorts? Out of sorts? The man’s about to expire from fever,” the bishop said, pointing.
    The other clergymen backed hastily out of the room, several of them holding up their robes to cover their mouths lest they catch the infection.
    â€œI ought to be reading the office of the dead over him, not marrying him to you.”
    â€œHe’ll be fine,” Dagmar reassured him and sent up a little prayer that she spoke the truth. “And Frederick will be most unhappy if we aren’t wed today.”
    The bishop looked like he was going to refuse, but in the end, decided that he couldn’t be blamed if the groom later claimed he had been wed against his will. After all, the crown prince had told him distinctly to see that the princess was married no matter what the man’s state. With a clear conscience, the bishop hurried through the rest of the ceremony, ignoring the fact that the groom’s statements were neither understandable nor coherent.
    At the conclusion of the ceremony, the bride swiftly kissed the groom’s damp brow, then with a businesslike manner wholly at odds with such a romantic moment, forcibly administered fever medicine to him.

Four
    Princesses who hide in an unused carriage solely in order to watch the new head groom disrobe will find themselves confined to their bedchamber for an entire week. Without any of the dreadful novels they so love!
    â€”Princess Christian of Sonderburg-Beck’s Guide for Her Daughter’s Illumination and Betterment
    Leo swam in a sea of hellfire, now and again drifting into a dense black cloud that seemed to swallow up all thought and