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And the sound of rain pattered all around, on puddles and in mud, tapping on our umbrellas.
Razak approached Ines’s swinging body. “Your Prince of Hearts will hate you more for this,” he said to me. “Every move you make against me, I will twist and make mine.”
Shivers shuddered through me. I might have shivered this whole time but felt it only now. Adrenaline, fear, and rage. They buzzed through my veins.
Razak turned to me. His sneer softened. He touched my chin, then tried to skim his fingers up my cheek. I snatched his wrist, holding him still.
“Know this, brother,” he said. “You will love me, and only me.”
He pitched in, and his soft lips pushed against mine. His tongue probed. If I bit it off, I’d swing beside Ines. So I opened, let him inside, tasted his poison and vowed to one day see him swinging from the hanging tree.
CHAPTER27
Arin
If it wasn’tfor the stifling heat and sandstone architecture, my white-and-gold clad reflection in the floor-length mirror almost convinced me I was back at home, staring at the same Prince of Love I’d been before my court had fallen.
A gold clasp held the milk-white shoulder cloak to my neck. Gold lace trimmed the snug-fitting doublet. White trousers tucked into white leather boots with gold buckles. Where Draven had found white leather in this desert land, I had no idea. I was grateful, of course. Draven had not only saved me, he’d made it so I could stand as the Prince of Love in the Court of War, and that was no small thing.
He was a good friend in a land in which I was very much alone.
A knock sounded at the door. I tugged at my sleeves, fighting off nerves. “Come in.”
Draven took two steps into the room, then slowed. He carried a letter, which seemed important, but he also wore the courtly attire of a warlord about to be wed. The red sash at his waist was adorned with dramatic swirls of black silk. The same black swirls had been painted down his neck. They ducked beneath his loose collar. Did they continue on? Ribbons of red silk wove through his dark hair and its side plait, and kohl lined his eyes. Ruby-encrusted jambiya daggers adorned his sides, one on each hip. The overall affect was of a man about to go into battle, not of one about to be wed. He was… breathtaking.
Two men had never been so ill-matched.
“I er… I did not realize you were dressing.” He averted his gaze. “I can leave—”
“No,” I blurted, then fussed with my cloak’s neck clasp so I didn’t have to look at the man I was about to commit to for the rest of my life. “I’m done.”
What if this was a mistake?
Razak was attending—might already be inside the palace or certainly nearby. So our plan had achieved its main objective, getting him away from his stronghold. Now we just needed to lure him somewhere alone, and Draven would do the rest, likely with those curved daggers at his hips. Assassinating Razak was the only way this ended, even if it did feel underhanded. The wedding was… a ruse. A feint. Sleight of hand. A distraction. It didn’t mean anything.
I glanced over and found Draven standing motionless and staring at me as though I’d committed a terrible social mistake. “What is it? Am I so hideous?”
He chuckled. “No, no… Definitely not… hideous. I’ve been so accustomed to seeing you less formal that I’d forgotten you’re a prince.”
“You and the rest of the shatterlands.” I forced myself to stop fiddling with the array of buttons and buckles and nodded toward the letter. “What’s that?”
“Oh, yes… I received word from our contacts about Lark.”
My treacherous heart flip-flopped. After my dream several nights ago, Draven had sent a request for any information. I’d wondered if we’d hear anything before the wedding, hoping we did. Not that news of Lark would change my commitment. This had to happen. It was the only way I’d regain power. Yet… if I knew Lark was alive, and not hurting, then it would make what had to be done all the easier.
“You may want to sit down,” Draven said.
My heart dropped. “Is he dead?”
“No, nothing like that. He’s alive. He’s on his way here, in fact, with Razak.”
I sighed, relieved beyond words. I’d suspected Razak would bring him. Razak would want to see my face when I noticed Lark beside him, thinking his presence would hurt me. But after the dream, I’d feared Lark had gone. It didn’t matter who he stood next to, just that he was alive and my dream had been a lie.
But Draven’s face was as grim as though hehaddied. So what news did that letter contain?
I sat in one of the armchairs. Lark was coming… What did he think of this union between War and Love? And what did he think of Draven, the man who he had had sexual affairs with? Goodness, Lark complicated everything, yet my heart raced with irrational hope. I wasn’t sure I’d laughed the same since leaving the remains of my court, since leaving Lark.
I should have practiced my juggling. “All right, tell me.”
