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I hurried along the hall, passing the king’s chamber—still dark— and might have hurried on by the prince’s chamber too if I hadn’t spotted a shadow glide under the door. I slowed. The hallway was empty. No staff, no guests. No witnesses.
I pressed a hand to the prince’s closed door and listened. The crackle of a fire, perhaps the sweep of fabric—someone moving. Well, that someone could only be the Prince of Love. Color me intrigued. It had been so long since I’d seen him, I’d assumed he’d died behind these doors and nobody had noticed.
I plucked a pencil from my jacket’s inner pocket and a slip of paper from its opposite pocket—I never roamed the palace without my tools—and scribbled a note:
Why could the prince not see his crown?
I flipped over the note and wrote the answer:Because he was always loo-king in the wrong direction.
Not my best work, but it’s far harder to think of jests when I’d exhausted my repertoire months ago. I’d probably left him over a hundred notes. I posted this newest one beneath his door and watched for his shadow again.
The minutes ticked on. Had he kept my past notes? Did he collect them in a bureau? I didn’t have the time to waste waiting on the prince. Yet I remained standing at his door, apparently unable to leave. Call it morbid curiosity or perhaps some kind of desperation on my part, because he alone was the only person in the entire Court of Love who hadn’t noticed me. Four years, and we’d shared just as many words. It wasn’t normal.Hewasn’t normal. Prince Arin vexed me. Few in this world had that honor.
It was time to leave. I’d been absent from the feasting hall far too long—long enough to fuck a queen.
I abandoned the riddle of the Prince Behind the Door and swept back into the ballroom’s brilliant lights and shrill laughter. I took a breath, filled my lungs and blood and body with the rush of knowing this was my world, and got to work.
The red- and black-clad guests from the Court of War and the blue-clad guests from Justice spoke of illness and affliction among their people, droughts, delayed supplies, and general unrest. I distracted them with card tricks, made them gasp in disbelief and laugh in wonder. For a little while, I had them forgetting their woes. A magic all of its own, making me their magician.
After inserting myself into everyone’s evening, all that remained was for me to secure an alibi for my brief exit later. A fool for the fool, as it were. And I had someone in mind. I’d spotted the young warlord earlier in the evening, a delight of a man in loose black clothes and a slash of red silk around his waist. Draven appeared to be enjoying his debut in the Court of Love, out to prove a representative from the Court of War could behave in public. His dance card was full; everyone loved fresh blood. He was handsome, muscular, with cropped dark hair, an intriguing side plait, an axe-sharp jaw, and arresting eyes. And if my instincts were correct, he wasn’t interested in the ladies, at least not while I was nearby. I sympathized. Sometimes, a man needed to fuck another man against a wall. This was the Court of Love after all. If he wanted to get it out of his system, tonight was his opportunity. The Court of War had little time for love. Who better to sample carnal desires with, than the infamous Court of Love’s promiscuous fool?
I’d made sure to cast him a few lascivious glances, enough to get his blood flowing south. Several guests had already paired off, some in groups of three or four. On another night, I’d have been among them. There were few better ways to end a social event than some well-managed, slightly intoxicated, free of inhibitions group sex. But not tonight. Tonight, Draven would be the sole object of my affections.
All gatherings had a heartbeat. Most began slow, building through the night to a crescendo of dancing and delight after which they’d wind down. For all but me, the entertainment was over.
After skirting the ballroom’s fringes, I positioned myself behind an arch within eavesdropping distance of Draven and the young man accompanying him, probably a squire.
After a few moments, he sent his squire away to retire for the night and leaned against my archway, his back to me, just the pillar between us.
“You’re somehow loud and quiet, aren’t you,” he mused aloud, keeping his back to the pillar, and me. “How long have you been lurking behind this arch?” Draven’s voice held a delicious rumbling note and a hint of the exotic, the kind of voice that could summon a throaty growl from the depths of all that physical prowess he carried around with him. The men and women of War all had substantial presence, but Draven wasn’t as substantial as most of his kin. Strong enough to crush me though, should I find myself on his bad side. That was not the plan tonight.
“Long enough to know your squire is so upright he should be an honorary member of Justice, and you’re as bored as I am.”
His deep, smooth chuckle traveled through my bones. Seducing this one would be no hardship. “Jude is my cousin,” he said.
“There’s no accounting for family.”
“And who says I’m bored?”
He couldn’t see my shrug, but he’d hear it in my voice. “Not enough bloodshed. Far too few murders. No bloody knuckles.”
“Is that all you think my court is, bloodshed and violence?” He stepped into my peripheral vision and braced an arm on the arch above my head, displaying a finely honed arm of corded muscle that his shirt sleeves barely contained. His smirk produced a cheek dimple that was unwarlike and adorable.
“I know it is.”
“Hm, you do, huh? And how does the Court of Love’s jester know so much about my home? Do they even let you out of this pretty little birdcage?”
I lifted my chin. Draven shifted close enough to make it clear he either wished to threaten or fuck. Perhaps both. My heart raced, blood warming. My cock warmed too. Yes, he’d be no hardship at all. “You’d be surprised what this bird knows.”
He leaned in, blue eyes sparkling, “I like surprises.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes, tipping myself out from under his less than subtle advances. After a few steps, putting some distance between us, I flung a look over my shoulder. He remained by the arch, expression puzzled, unsure if I’d brushed him off and if he’d misread our silent glances. Warlords weren’t bright, much preferring axes to end an argument than debate. Skipping on the balls of my feet, I turned, walking backward. “You’ll like this one.” I swept both hands down myself so he didn’t miss the point. “Are you coming?”
His smile kicked into his cheek again and he shoved his muscular body into motion, steps quickening. I faced ahead and hurried outside, onto the terrace and down a flight of steps into the gardens. Moonlight iced the manicured lawns, turning greens silver. A few squeals erupted from deeper in the gardens, others frolicking nearby. Most came out here not to be seen, but I rather needed the opposite. I needed to find somewhere private enough to keep him comfortable, but also public enough to provide witnesses.
Draven was keeping up, his smile a clear indication he enjoyed the chase. I wove among high hedges, tossing a few smirks behind me, leading him along like a fish on a hook.
“By the endless winds, you’re a tease…” There was his growl.
