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Which suggested whoever had attacked Draven lived in the palace.
There was another killer in the Court of Love, muscling in on my territory. And that would not do.
* * *
The sun’smorning rays warmed my window when I returned. No guards waited for me, so I hadn’t been identified as Draven’s attacker. Hopefully, the warlord would do the sensible thing and keep quiet, if his voice returned.
I filled the basin and washed Draven’s blood from my hands. I hadn’t been the one to silence the lord, but the outcome had been desirable, nonetheless.
Draven wouldn’t be telling any secrets, not for a while. And now I had room to breathe. The queen’s death, Draven’s attack, my arrest. These things, while unfortunate, were not my fault.
Collapsing on the bed, I let my eyes close, let my heart slow and my mind wander. The quiet settled over me like a quilt. Just a moment to stop, to breathe. A moment all my own.
“You seem so innocent like this, asleep.”
I open my eyes and froze.
“Vulnerable.” Prince Arin’s face hovered an inch from mine. His cool fingers pinched my chin, holding me still while his silver-eyed gaze roamed over me, drinking in my unguarded expression.
I hadn’t heard him enter.
The prince jerked my head to one side as he let go. He straightened, revealing two men behind him—not guards. Something else. Their faces stoic, eyes cold, and they carried enough muscle to rival Draven.
My morning was about to get painful.
“Welcome, gentlemen,” I greeted, leaning back against the wall. “If you wanted to join me in bed, Prince, you merely had to ask.”
Arin’s eyes widened, and for the briefest of moments, shock stole his rage, but it didn’t last. His lip curled, and his anger flooded back in. He raised a hand, flicked his fingers, and his brutes rushed in.
CHAPTER5
Perhaps Arin expected me to fight, because when his men pulled me from the bed and flung me to the floor, he watched, as though waiting forsomething. But as soon as the first punch landed, I stopped watching his face and concentrated instead on protecting mine. The first punch was always the worst, the second, less so. And by the third, I’d withdrawn into my own mind.
The blows kept coming, and the prince watched it all, stoic and unflinching. Or so I thought, but at some point, he turned away and moved toward the window. A little blood stained his pearly-white cloak. My blood, I supposed.
Thick hands gripped my neck and pinned me to my bedside. Everything burned—my chest, my stomach.
My head lolled, vision blurring, then sharpened to Arin on one knee, peering into my eyes. Whatever he was searching for, his frown suggested he hadn’t found it. “Why didn’t you fight?” he asked, his voice soft now. I preferred this softer, less sneery version.
I smiled and licked blood from my lips. “Ifyouhit me, we both might enjoy it.”
His slap landed hard, splitting the inside of my cheek. I hadn’t expected him to do it. But now he had, I might have won this little battle of ours. His face suggested I wasn’t the only one surprised by the slap.
I tongued the cut in my cheek, spat blood to the side, and smirked up at the Prince of Love. “What use is there in fighting when I cannot win?”
His lips ticked, almost smiling. “You’re not even sorry, are you?” He straightened, looming over me.
“And what am I supposed to be sorry for?” I dabbed at my lip, wiping more blood away. If he’d thought to hurt me, a beating was not the way to go about it.
“You have my father seduced, and the rest of my court under your spell, but not me. This is the least you deserve.”
I dabbed at my tender cheek, struck by a guard and now a prince. I really must have been special to warrant such attention. “Nothing I say will convince you I’m innocent, will it?”
He turned away and swept toward the door. Something had snagged on his cloak’s fluffy, white hem. A twig of some sort, with tiny green leaves. I’d seen its like before, but I couldn’t remember where.
“Answer me one thing,” I croaked. “Just one?”
He paused but didn’t deign to look back.
