I was supposed to dance and lie and distract for Rafe to help expose the imposter, those had been his demands in exchange for him keeping me safe.
But Rafe didn't attend dinner that night—not unusual for him. Nobody spoke of the queen, as though she'd never existed. It was easier to live in denial. The king grumbled on, his gaze on the serving girls. And the courtly dance continued without the prince.
But as my final night in the palace came around, and Rafecontinued to be elusive, I wondered if I'd dreamed the beach, the moonlight, his desperate kiss, and our prickly truce.
If I were going to be his distraction while he searched for the imposter, then I'd need more from him than his absence.
But it wasn't just our apparent deal that had me questioning what I'd agreed to in that tunnel. Hope was a dangerous thing.
I'd done without hope for a long time. But Rafe, the real Rafe, not the icy, aloof, beat-me-to-prove-a-point Rafe, had sparked a tiny fragment of hope in my heart. What if we could do the impossible, and somehow work together to stop the impostor, or perhaps go so far as to stop the Court of Pain from undermining the Court of Love? I'd never hung my hopes on anyone but myself. And now the prince had seeded hope inside me, like a weed.
What if this silence was his plan? What if his game was to give me hope and then forget me? Perhaps he was as cruel as he'd had me believe?
Done with waiting, I swept through the royal wing to Rafe's chamber door and slipped a written poem beneath.
I was needed back in the ballroom, to spin and dance and charm anyone who cared to listen. But the riddle of the Prince Behind the Door had sunk its claws into me. And so I lingered, like a kicked puppy. Eager for its master's love, no matter the shape it took. As time ticked on, I paced, then leaned against the wall and picked at my nails.
This was my final night. Tomorrow, I'll leave. Or not. That decision hinged on one infuriating prince.
The door opened, and Rafe 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 Rafe 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." Rafe 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 was not bestowed. His name, forever tarnished and vile, for breaking his promise, defiled the people's trust. 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 your plight—"
"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 that 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 wish. 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 beaten 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, Levi." 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 seen by 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 Rafe and pretended to adjust the nearby flower arrangement while Rafe 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 Rafeneeded 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 Rafe.
"Do as you please," Rafe 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.