Chapter Six
“FIVE MINUTES, MILORD. Five minutes to places.”
The stage director’s voice carried in from the corridor, and a runner ducked his head into the men’s dressing room to confirm it before disappearing again.
“This is so exciting, milord,” the makeup artist said giddily while lightly dabbing his face with powder. It was all part of the program, and because they did owe the Foxes a favor, Arkane remained stoic and still in the makeup chair.
“I was in the ball last night, and you and Lady Tiara—is it really true, that you had this summer romance six years ago?”
He was saved from answering when she continued on—
“The way you guys were looking at each other, milord. I said to myself, that’s love. That’s true love right there—”
—which meant she didn’t really expect a reply.
“And it’s worth waiting for, isn’t it?”
She paused with the powder brush held just above his cheek, and looked at him expectantly.
“Thank you for your work. I appreciate it.”
The compliment was an effective distraction, and Arkane was able to leave the dressing room without having to lie.
The corridor outside ran behind the press conference hall, lined with closed doors for hair, wardrobe, and the various staging rooms the Foxes had set aside.
Foxtown staff in livery moved purposefully along it, none of them meeting his eyes, which meant they had been instructed not to.
And that was the whole point of today.
Nothing had to change.
Because she was the one who had cheated, not him.
And this...this was six years in the making.
He waited for his cue at the threshold, just out of sight of the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the Earl of Revanche, Lord Arkane Young.”
He stepped out, and the crowd of park guests welcomed him with the same warmth and excitement.
The press conference hall had been dressed for the Season finale—chandeliers throwing soft yellow light over the rows of seated guests, a raised stage at the far end backed by a vast Foxtown crest in gold leaf, and at his feet, the long red-carpet aisle that ran the full length of the room toward that stage.
And all the welcome did was make him wonder—would they still feel the same, once they realized what he had planned all along?
The program required him to walk down the red carpet aisle, deliberately mirroring what would a groom do on his wedding day, and ah, even Joy had been roped in.
She was waiting for him at the head of the aisle in a gown of deep green silk, her gloved hands folded in front of her.
He offered her his arm, and she accepted it.
They started walking.
“How are you feeling, Arkane?”
“Perfect.”
“That’s good.”
He looked at her. “It’s unlike you to lie.”
She met his gaze with eyes that looked as if she had been weeping just moments ago. “I could say the same to you, my love.”
And it was then...he had an inkling.
And once he sensed that not everything was under his control—
“How did you know,” he asked tightly, “and how much do you know?”
“I just know you,” Joy said softly, “and that’s all I have to know.”
His jaw clenched. “Don’t make the mistake of interfering.”
“The thought never crossed my mind.”
“And you really think I’d believe that?”
But they had only reached the end of the aisle, and Joy rose on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I love you, son. Always.”
She turned to walk away to her seat in the front row, and he whipped his gaze away the moment he saw her shoulders start to shake.
Nothing. Had. To. Change.
Not even when it had his own mother crying.
The live orchestra in the gallery above began to play. Canon in D. And that...that was the next cue. The beginning of everything. Six years in the making. And then it would be finally over.
Behind him, he heard the crowd gasp, and because he knew the program by heart, it meant she had finally stepped out.
Tiara.
Another moment passed, the music swelling, and then their host with the perfect voice-over baritone began his spiel from somewhere unseen above the room.
“The beauty of second chances isn’t always about renewed beginnings and rewriting the past. Sometimes, your second chance with one person is to simply say ‘thank you’ and ‘goodbye’.”
Another round of gasps erupts, but Arkane didn’t turn his back...even though he knew. By this time, everyone knew, Tiara included.
“And with another person, it’s hello again.”
There was another girl in this park, also from his past, and also wanting a second chance with him.
A side door at the front of the room opened, and the orchestra shifted into something warmer, more playful. He didn’t recognise the piece, but he didn’t have to. The music alone told the audience what was about to happen.
Arkane slowly turned around.
Mirabella.
Tall while she wasn’t. Lustrous midnight-black hair where hers were like the rays of the sun. And glamorous and confident when she had always been awkward, even at her spunkiest—
He kept his gaze on Mirabella even as the music faded, and the crowd...
He could feel them starting to grow uneasy as they realized that this was not a prank.
Just like he could feel her watching him even when not once did he spare her a glance.
Mirabella started walking toward him even though it wasn’t part of the script. She met him halfway, her rose-colored lips curving in a smile—
“Mi amor.”
A sickening sense of déjà vu gripped his chest as she reached for his face. But it was as if his whole world had become a blur. All he knew was that this had happened before. But his entire mind was lost in darkness, and he just couldn’t remember—
Mirabella was reaching up for his face.
When did this last happen?
And it was only when her lips touched his—
That the darkness, having already done its job, reveled in giving way to light.
Because now that everything was clear, darkness had much reason to rejoice, with Arkane finally remembering when it was too late—
No fuck no
He hadn’t meant things to get this far.
I just wanted to hurt her a little.
Shame her a little.
Make her cry a little.
But when he turned around—
No no no no no no no no no
Mirabella cried out in protest when he walked away, her hand still half-raised toward where his face had been.
He didn’t give a damn.
Because this time, all he had eyes for—
Tiara.
She remained where she was standing at the head of the aisle. Beautiful. Smiling. Crying. And it hurt so, so, damn much because the moment he came close—
No no no no no no no no no
This close, he could see the truth in her eyes.
“You knew,” he said hoarsely. “You knew—”
“That you might want to make me pay?”
Why was she talking to him like he hadn’t done anything wrong?
And why, dammit?
Why was she still here?
“You should’ve just fucking left—”
“I wanted to.” And this time, her smile had started to wobble. “But I couldn’t.” Because her lip had started to tremble. “Not until I get to tell you—”
“That I’m an asshole?”
“That I understand. All this, it m-made me understand—” Her voice broke. “Just how much I hurt you that—”
His fists clenched against his sides. “Shut up.” Because hearing her talk about that night—it just made him relive the pain.
“I love you so much,” Tiara choked out. “I love you, Arkane, but this—”
“Just fucking leave,” Arkane snarled.
Because as unbelievable as it was—
He was the one who had planned to shame her, and yet, here she was, making him feel like she was about to break his heart all over again.
“You’re like a p-prince, do you know? I told you that y-yesterday, remember?”
Was she now going to butter him up before kicking him in the balls?
“It’s not because you’re rich and hot, but b-because you’re noble—”
“I just tried to fucking shame you,” he gritted out. “So stop pretending—”
“I know about her, Arkane.”
He whitened.
“I know why you guys broke up.”
I’m sorry, Ark. I didn’t tell you until it was done. I knew you’d try to stop me, and I couldn’t afford it. I still have my whole life ahead of me.
“And so for you to go this far—”
I don’t blame you, Mirabella. But I don’t want to see you again. I can’t. Not after what you did to our baby.
“Just to hurt me—”
She was crying so, so hard now that it should’ve been impossible for him to understand her.
“How c-can I have the right to fight for you—”
And yet he did.
“—if I’m also the reason you’re doing all these things that’s not n-noble?”
Every fucking word.
But for some reason, he just couldn’t fucking move.
Even with Tiara reaching up to yank the little crown—the tiara he had chosen to shame her, the one that he intended to ask back so he could give it to Mirabella—off her head—
“A princess isn’t meant to turn princes into frogs.”
She pressed the tiara to his hand, the small weight of it cold against his palm, but it was as if pain had stolen his very ability to think.
“And I’m—I’m s-so sorry for hurting you that night.”
And then she was turning away.
The crowd swallowing the sight of her.
But still he stood there like an idiot, the tiara still in his open hand, and it was only when Mirabella reached him from behind and tugged the tiara out of his hold—
“Is this mine?”
He watched her actually put on the tiara like this was all that mattered to her, and...God.
He couldn’t even find it in his heart to hate her.
How could he when he had fucked up just as bad—
Please, God.
Arkane looked at Lucius, who had risen from his seat in the front row. Because with all the women in their family in tears, even Icelle—
His eldest brother was his only hope, and Lucius was already nodding.
I’ll handle Mirabella.
Go.
And then he was running.