Hathor and the Prince (The Dubells #3) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction Tags Authors: Series: The Dubells Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
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My shoulders slumped. “Your Majesty—”

“My official answer is no.”

My eyebrow rose as I looked over her face. Her “official” answer? Why say that?

“And the unofficial answer?” Sir Darrington questioned.

“Doctors must do whatever they must do to save their patients. However, should a certain gentleman wish to remain a doctor and not become a prisoner, he will not be caught, nor will he ever mention, doing such a procedure. For no one, not even the queen, would be able to save him.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“I do not have any idea what you are thanking me for. In fact, I am feeling rather ill. Lady Crane, fetch me the royal doctors.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lady Crane said, walking over to the door. Sir Darrington and I ran after her.

Theodore

It was one thing to study something in theory; it was another to actually do it. I did not even know why it had come to mind. The papers had suggested the blood be taken from multiple men, so as to keep a continuous flow of blood without endangering the donor, as no more than a cup—maybe two—of blood could be given. And a cup was ten syringes full. How was I supposed to do this?

“How are you to do this?” Lady Hathor eyed me and the syringe in my hand.

“You draw from one person’s arm, and place it in the other’s as quickly as possible,” I answered.

“All right, that is simple enough,” she said, and outstretched her arm to me. “Begin.”

The ease with which she offered herself up to something so utterly dangerous and unheard of was shocking to me. This was not at all the Lady Hathor I remembered, who was discontent sharing even a biscuit with her sister. “Do not be ridiculous, Lady Hathor. I cannot in good con—”

“It is either you or me, and we do not have much time before Dr. Alderton returns. And if you cannot rightly do this on yourself—”

“I shall take my own, as I do not know what could go wrong. You are a lady; it is not right. Besides, I do not know if the blood of a woman would have an adverse effect on him.”

“But—”

“It must be me, or it will not be done at all.”

She frowned but nodded. “Very well. Please tell me if there is anything I can do.”

“I must ask you to leave.”

“What?”

“It would be best for you not to see this. And I work best without the attention. Please, Lady Hathor.”

She frowned but nodded. She moved to his bedside and kissed his forehead. “Everything is going to be all right.”

For a brief moment, I was jealous. I wished my own wife were here to comfort me. Though knowing Verity, she’d be enraged by my impudence and hazardous choices. She was always telling me patients were important but so was I, and that as such, I could not be risking my own life to save them. Clearly, I did not listen well.

“I shall be outside.”

I nodded, waiting for her to leave before I quickly rolled up my sleeve and moved the syringe to my arm.

Hopefully I did not kill the prince or myself.

Verity would have my head.

* * *



I felt sick. So sick I had to move over to the corner of the room, sitting on the chair there and trying to rest. I could have sworn I had only closed my eyes for two minutes or so, but when I reopened them, the sunlight was blinding. Worse than that, the room was now reoccupied by the royal doctors, a footman, a maid, Lady Hathor, and Lady Crane. Meanwhile, I was nearly falling out of the chair.

“Forgive me—”

“Well, Doctor? How is he?” Hathor asked, sitting at his bedside. I quickly glanced around the room and noticed all of my things had been cleaned up. Even the bloody napkins were gone.

Had she done this while I was asleep? How disoriented was I?

“I am unsure, but he is alive, and that in and of itself is a miracle,” he answered, his eyes drifting to Wilhelm’s arm, which was a bit red and bruised in the same area where I had injected him. “I shall continue to keep watch over him. Sir Darrington, may I speak to you outside?”

When he turned to me, his face was stern, his nostrils wide as he took in air.

Nodding, I followed him out of the room and closed the door. He then stepped toward me in a fury.

“What have you done?”

Hiding my hands behind my back, I calmly replied, “Whatever do you mean, sir?”

“Do not be coy with me. I am no fool, and I’ve inspected all of Prince Wilhelm: His arm was not like that yesterday.”

“I have not yet seen his arm, and as such I do not know what you speak of—”

“He is a prince!” he snapped at me. “He is not some commoner on the street, for whom no one would question your science or methods. His blood is sacred, and—”


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