AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Fuck it.
It was time for the prince to speak some truths, and I knew how to wring them from his peachy lips.
CHAPTER11
The lesser-known servants’ entrance into Arin’s chambers took some bribery to find, but after applying the right amount of pressure and threatening to reveal a few secrets, I found it and snuck inside. He wasn’t here, and was likely at the dinner I was barred from.
I shifted a chest of drawers over the side door. This time, there would be no interruptions.
As the night wore on, growing darker with every hour, I flitted about his rooms, skimmed his books, admired his clothes. Oil lamps flickered, and the fires burned low.
He was usually back by now.
I dropped onto the end of the large, four-poster bed. My black trousers, shirt, and waistcoat contrasted with the white and golds draped over the bed’s canopy and all around the room. The courts loved their colors, and wore them with pride. Justice, blue. War, black and red, and Pain… black and purple. So stuck in their traditions, their ways.
I stroked the golden silk drapes, tied to the bedposts. Luxuries like this were the reason the Court of Love was coinless. It didn’t matter though, as long as they were seen to prosper, or so Albus believed. The king was a blind fool, and his son… His son was about to discover who I was beneath my smiles.
The main chamber door opened. I ducked out of sight, tucking myself into shadows alongside a large dresser, and caught sight of Arin striding through his chambers, peeling off his cloak, then his jacket. As he passed by, the air around him smelled of sea salt and flowers. He’d been to the cove, the place he went to think and be his truest self. His long hair, tied up in a tail, swished down his back, damp from mist. Even knowing how he’d lied, or perhaps due to it, I couldn’t shake the desire to have him moaning, his ass slapping my hips and his back arched under my hands.
He stopped by a standing mirror and loosened his shirt. If he shifted a little to his left, he’d see my hiding place.
“How was dinner?” I asked, stepping from the shadows.
He froze, fingers on his shirt buttons. Irritation snuffed the surprise out of his eyes.
“Dull, I presume, without the entertainment. Did they ask after me?”
“You should not be here.” He continued unbuttoning his shirt but tension kept his shoulders rigid.
He gleamed in gold and white, so brilliant next to my darkness. Two sides of that same coin, pain and love. Surely, one did not exist without the other.
“Tell me to leave.” Stopping behind him—not yet touching—I freed the dagger I’d taken from him on that secret beach and kept it low at my side, out of his sight. “Tell me you don’t want me here.”
“What’s gotten into you?” He fiddled with his cuffs, head bowed, exposing his smooth, pale neck.
“I spoke with Draven.”
Arin shot right, as fast as a bow from an arrow. I caught a fistful of ponytail, spun him around, and flung him against his mirror, then pressed the point of the dagger to his chest, indenting his shirt, right over his heart, holding him there. He spluttered and tried to pry me off him. I leaned in. “Strange, I wondered, while with Draven, why there were no guards at his door. What if the imposter were to try again?”
His eyes shone with their beautiful, silvery hatred. “Unhand me.”
I freed his hair, but as he slumped with relief, I grasped his neck instead. Its lithe length fit so perfectly in my hand. “But why would you need guards, when you know no killer is coming for him.”
“Lark?” he questioned, becoming concerned. Was I playing or not? What was this, he hadn’t seen me like this before. It felt so good to be the one delivering the surprises.
I plastered myself against him, with just the dagger between us. Loosening my grip on his neck, I pushed my thumb under his chin, tilting his head back. “You were born into the wrong court, my prince.” I gave the dagger a slight turn, knowing he’d feel its sharp point dig deeper. He bared his blunt teeth in a snarl. “Pain suits you.”
“Love and pain are not so different,” he said through his teeth.
Adrenaline, fear, rage, and lust—being close to Arin summoned them all. I’d felt the same in the tunnel when we’d first kissed. But oh how he wanted me. Even now, while he looked death in the eyes, if I were to drop my hand I’d find his cock hard.
Fear, I could smell it on him. “You’ve been lying to me.”
He bucked and shoved at my chest, trying to lever me off. His fist got free and flew at my face, skimming my jaw. I laughed, and Arin bolted from my loosened grip.
I snatched his sleeve, yanked, and spun him into my arms.
He pivoted and used that momentum to swing for me a second time, knocking us both backwards—through his dressing mirror. Glass shattered. My back hit the wall, his fist slammed into my middle, stealing the air from my lungs, but breathing through agony was child’s play.
