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“I have presided over this court with, I hope, delight and wonderment,” my father went on. “It has been my honor to serve as your king for these past forty years. But after my beloved wife’s… departure—”
“My sympathies,” Razak whispered, smiling into his wine.
“The time has come to pass the crown on to my son, your beloved prince.” My father gestured for me to stand among a chorus of gasps and mutterings. I stood, smiled at a king I’d come to hate and the father I was ashamed to call my own, then bowed to a surge of applause.
My father sat and groped for his wine, spilling some as he gulped it down.
I lifted my head. “Love is ever enduring,” I told the court. “It is the light in the dark.”
Lark was suddenly among them, appearing between one blink and the next. His gaze burned so fiercely I almost forgot my words. “Love will overcome and I will ensure the prosperity you have all enjoyed continues.” I raised my cup. “To our home, our court, the Court of Love!”
“To the king!” the guests responded, even Lark, with his teasing smirk.
“Well, I am honored to be seated beside a King of Love,” Razak purred the moment I sat down. Irony thickened his voice. “Although, I wouldn’t get comfortable. Love has a tendency to turn sour.”
“What would you know of love?” I asked through a thin smile.
“About the same as you, I suspect.” He tugged at his purple gloves. “The Prince Behind the Door.Four years is a long time to hide, alone, in your room.”
“That must have made it difficult for your spies to collect secrets on me. No?”
He laughed. “One man does not make a court, even if that man is a prince. For all his flowers and finery, he’s still just a man playing a fool’s game.”
“Speaking of fools.” I nodded toward Lark, dancing scandalously with a woman in a blue dress. “What are your thoughts on mine?”
“That one?” Razak scooped up his cup and pretended to study Lark as he danced and flirted, making the woman blush. “He dances well.” Razak’s gaze lingered, implying more to his words, hinting at secrets he shared with Lark.
Razak had sent Lark to my court. He had a hold over him still, but how far and how deep that hold went, I could only imagine. “He sings too, I hear,” Razak said nonchalantly, as though bored.
Had Lark sung in the Court of Pain? Had he danced among my enemies? It seemed likely. He’d learned his craft somewhere.
“What is his name?” Razak asked.
“Lark.”
Lark was spinning the woman now, and with his typical dramatic flair, he tipped her backwards, catching her in his arms, to the delight of the people around them. “He is a man of many talents,” I said.
“Hm… ‘Talents,’ you say. Not least those between the sheets?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I lied, even as I could still feel the bruises from his fingertips and the ache from his bite in my shoulder. “Although, honestly, most of the guests here have likely sampled his pleasures.”
Razak smiled. “You are quite the mystery Prince Arin.”
I’d made sure to remain a mystery. Razak didn’t know me, which meant he couldn’t predict what came next. Lark had fed him secret after secret. He probably had something on every member of my court, because Lark knew them all intimately. But he did not know me. Or he hadn’t, until recently.
Razak’s arrival was perfect timing. He thought he held all the cards. But I had one, the most important one of all.
I had Lark.
Razak stood, scraping his chair back across the floor. “Fool! I say, Fool…” The Prince of Pain’s smile grew as the band ceased playing, missed notes clattering. The dancers all twirled to a halt, Lark among them. He turned toward us and lifted his chin, the epitome of poise. With half the feasting hall between us, he was too far away for me to read any slip in his expression, but I doubted there’d be one.
“You play the fiddle, no?” Razak enquired, ensuring we all heard. He likely already knew the answer, which made this a game he’d begun to play.
Lark stepped forward. “I do, dear prince.”
“Won’t you play us a song?”
Lark swept his arm low in a bow and bounded toward the band. The violinist handed over his instrument. Lark propped it beneath his chin and glided back across the floor. He plucked a few notes, familiarizing himself with the strings.
