Kyra’s stomach dropped. “What?”
“Kyra.” Fred caught Kyra’s eyes. “I’m not in love with Ariana and I don’t want half the kingdom.”
“You don’t?”
He shook his head. “But I might stick around for a little while longer. There are some interesting things in the Kingdom of Mohr.”
“Like what?”
“Like a certain funny and extremely talented potioner.”
Kyra took a breath. “I have to warn you, Hal isn’t that great as a boyfriend. He’s pretty self-absorbed.”
The edges of Fred’s mouth turned up a fraction more. “Kyra, I think you know who I mean.”
“Is this because you found out I’m a princess?”
He shot her a look.
Kyra smiled inwardly, but she didn’t quite know what
to say.
She didn’t have to say anything, because Fred continued. “May I ask you one thing?”
“Mm-hm.”
“What in the world were you doing wearing that ridiculous underwear when I first met you?” He started laughing.
“You try picking out reasonable underwear when you’re fleeing an entire staff of palace guards!”
“Wouldn’t it have made sense to pack
before
you attempted to kill the princess?”
Kyra looked at him seriously. “I wasn’t planning to run away after I killed the princess. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself after having murdered my cousin and my best friend. I was planning a nice trip to prison, and from there to the executioner’s. So when my dart didn’t kill the princess, all I could think was, I’ve got to get out of here so I can finish the job later. After I finally ditched the guards, I had to hide in a dumbwaiter for a good four hours before I could sneak into my room and away.”
Fred had been listening intently, but started laughing again. “You hid in the dumbwaiter?”
“Yes.”
“What if they’d called it down to send up some tea or something?”
“They would have been in for a surprise.”
“I’m glad you escaped, Kyra,” Fred said, looking serious again. “And that I found you.”
“Me too,” Kyra said, glancing up at him. “It wouldn’t have been much of a life trying to live in the dumbwaiter.”
Fred leaned down and kissed Kyra full on the lips.
Kyra pulled away. “How do you know I’m interested in you? Just because you’ve decided I’m worth hanging around for doesn’t mean I feel the same way.”
Fred cocked his head at her.
“Really?”
“Oh, okay,” Kyra said.
Then she kissed him back.
T
HE SIGN OF A LIFE WELL LIVED
is that there are always too many people to thank.
A few of those who helped bring
Poison
to print: Bridget’s writing family—the Madison, Wisconsin, Writers’ Group: Georgia Beaverson, Judy Bryan, Emily Kokie, Michael Kress-Russick, Rosanne Lindsay, Julie Shaull, Kashmira Sheth, and Melinda Starkweather.
Friends and fellow authors who lent their insights: April Henry, Janet Piehl, and Emily Whitman.
Publishing pros and industry shepherds: Michael Stearns (agent and friend), Tamson Weston (who bought it), Catherine Onder and Hayley Wagreich (who saw it through), and Stephanie Lurie and the rest of the dream team at Disney-Hyperion.
And always and ever, those who loved it first and fiercest: Richard Zinn (Daddo)—“Okay,
now
you can read it”—and Barrett Dowell, husband, best friend, and soul mate.
“Thanks for everything. Love to you all.”