Prince Nathaniel did not stir. Daphne turned her accusing eyes onto Jonah and Atticus. "How hard did you hit him? If he dies here, we'll have a diplomatic disaster on our hands!"
Atticus shrugged again, more cavalierly. "If he does, I'll cut him to get the blue kyanite stone. Can't waste it on him."
Meanwhile, Jonah had a more rational response. He shook his head, scratching at his scalp. He badly needed a holiday. First Sirona, now Atticus. These two were giving him a headache that would last hundreds of lifetimes.
"Sirona might have overdone it a bit," Jonah said sheepishly. "She still harbored a grudge over how his healers imprisoned her. Let me instead."
Jonah drew out a flask and sprayed its contents onto Prince Nathaniel's face. Daphne had no clue what was inside that flask but whatever it was, it worked like a charm.
