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The door opened, and Arin regarded me as though we were strangers. “Yes, Fool?”
Of course, we weren’t meant to be on familiar terms. Outside the beach, he and I were strangers. “Come to dinner.”
He raked his lofty gaze over me. “Had I wished to attend, I’d be there.” He attempted to close the door.
I thrust my boot out, bouncing the door back open, and pushed inside. White and gold drapes swathed every column and hung from every arch. The gleam hurt my eyes. No wonder he was rarely here.
My poem lay open on the nearest sideboard. I picked it up and read aloud as Arin marched through his room. “Once upon a time, in a kingdom of flowers. There lived a prince. He made a promise, his heart full of grace. To his people, he'd create a brighter place.” Arin sent a raised eyebrow over his shoulder. “But time passed by, and the prince did not keep his promises, buried deep. The people waited, with hope in their hearts. But the prince’s vow, forever departs.” He stopped at his large dresser, leaned against it, and folded his arms in silent judgment.
I hesitated, but I’d begun, and so the poem must end. “The kingdom fell into darkness and woe. For the prince, their trust, did not bestow. His name, forever tarnished and vile, For breaking his promise, the people's trust defile. Learn from this tale, oh young and fair, Keep your promises, with care. For a broken vow, leads to a ruined plight, and a kingdom, forever lost in the night.”
He smiled without amusement. “Lost in the storm, would surely be more appropriate.”
“Storm does not rhyme with plight.” I closed the distance between us and slapped the poem to his chest. As I let go, it fluttered to the floor. “Which one of us is the fool? Remind me, for I have forgotten.”
“Indeed, you have,” he smirked.
I’d spent all my ire on the poem and could only think of insults. “You are infuriating.”
“As are you.”
My pulse raced. I barked a sudden laugh. “You have me, as you wished, now do with me as you please. Else tomorrow, I’ll be gone, and you will be alone in yourplight—”
“Stop,” he snapped, then snatched up the fallen poem and headed for an oil lamp beside the washstand. “We are enemies, and to the imposter working against my court, we must be seen as such. This—” He held the poem over a lamp’s naked flame. “—is a mistake.” Fire galloped up the paper. When it was half consumed, he tossed it in the nearby washbasin and watched it burn to ash. “No more poems and notes. They could be used as evidence we are familiar.” He sighed. “I should burn them all.”
Wait, he hadn’t? “I thought you had.”
He smiled, coyly this time. “Ah, caught in a lie.”
That little smile spoke of the things he could not say. His gaze roamed over me, drinking me down and drawing me toward him. Our kiss was supposed to be a dream, but it burned very real between us now. “Come to dinner,” I purred. “Watch me play them, as you so wished. But this time, I’ll do it for you. Every tease, every whisper… It will all be for you.”
He closed the distance between us, coming at me with purpose. I braced for a second brutal kiss, but instead, he tucked a loose lock of my hair behind my ear, fingers skimming my cheek. “You believe being seen gives you worth,” he said. “And if you’re not seen, then you are nothing.” His delicate touch trailed along my jaw.
“As you so kindly revealed during my time behind bars.”
His fingers skipped down my neck next. The touch was soft, featherlight, and all the more devastating for its gentleness. “The things I did to you were a necessary act, just like your performance over the last few years. I did not…” He swallowed and skimmed the tip of his tongue over his lips. “I did not relish hurting you. That is not who I am.”
Fire sizzled through my veins. Did he even know which of his lies were true? I’d seen his face as his men had beat me, and he’d liked it. “Then who were you performing for? This imposter? Who is he, or she? Tell me what you know so I can better help you.”
“I have my suspicions, but you know I cannot tell you, not yet, Lark.” He pressed in, closer still, his body firm in all the right ways. The sumptuous four-poster bed was a tease in the corner of my eye. Would he submit if I bent him over it? “The fact remains you have damaged my court,” he said. “I’d be a fool to trust you.”
His words made sense, but while he spoke, his gaze stroked over my face and down my neck, perhaps while he imagined what could have happened had he not stopped our kiss in the tunnel—could still happen between us.
“I cannot fathom the wrongs done to you in the past,” he whispered.
“Wrongs can seem right from differing perspectives.” I caught his hand, stopping its slow adventure south. If he knew the horrors I’d endured, and inflicted, he would not look at me as he did now, with tortured longing. Only disgust. “I need you to be at dinner,” I admitted, briefly baring my soul. “I need to be seenby you. You demand I stay, but I cannot do so alone. I need an anchor, or I’ll be gone.”
The side door into his bedchamber clunked and groaned open. His aides trailed in, three in a row, carrying bundles of fresh clothes.
I danced away from Arin and pretended to adjust the nearby flower arrangement while Arin strode for the dresser, so quick on his feet he was already half a room away.
I’d have to ask Ellyn to suggest the aides knock from now on. And Arin needed a lock on that door.
I plucked a deck of playing cards from inside my jacket and shuffled them between my fingers. “Are you satisfied with my suggestion, Your Highness?” I fanned the cards and smiled as one of the aides caught my eye. Rumors would fly. I’d been seen with the prince, alone in his chamber no less. Oh, the scandal. If there was someone else here, someone from the Court of Pain, working without my knowledge, then they’d be eager to hear how I’d gotten close to Arin.
“Do as you please” Arin said. “Oh, and Fool?” He didn’t look up, far too important to meet my gaze. “Tell the king I’ll be along to dinner shortly.”
“Of course.” I plucked the King of Hearts from the deck and placed it next to the vase of flowers, leaving it for him as a promise and a tease.
