Chapter Two
“YOU LOOK NERVOUS, MOTHER.”
“Who? Me. Oh please. What would I be nervous for?”
“Exactly.”
Joy turned to her eldest son’s wife. “Do you think I look nervous?”
“Yes.”
But instead of Tassy answering, it was Icelle who answered, just joining the others in the drawing room and catching her stepmother’s question as she did.
Joy managed a smile. “Thank you, Icelle.” She studiously avoided looking at Arkane while saying so.
Arkane watched his mother from across the room. His mother wasn’t the type to fuss over her clothes, but that was the only thing she had been doing for the past five minutes. Fuss over the creases of her gown like they’re about to destroy her life.
“Miladies, milord, the carriages are ready.”
Joy couldn’t be more relieved to hear this, and she quickly ushered the other women out of the house.
Arkane followed behind them at a leisurely pace.
His mother was obviously avoiding looking his way, and so was his sister-in-law.
Icelle, though—there was no point trying to decipher his stepsister.
She was a lot more...open now, thanks to Tassy, but she was still a champion at keeping her cards close to her chest. Always would be.
The women shared the family carriage while Arkane took the open-top phaeton, which was the Regency’s version of a sportscar. This one was an exact replica—sleek, dark, and designed by a master engineer—but solar-powered to significantly reduce the burden on the horses.
To preserve the immersive atmosphere of the Regency-themed entertainment park, guests were all required to observe the rules.
But most of the time they went well beyond that, and it was why, in the ten-minute drive to the Royal Hall, there was a great deal of swooning taking place in the sidelines.
From the women who paid a handsome fee to enjoy a courtesy title of Miss or Milady to those who were of the genteel class—they were all swaying theatrically on their feet, and out came the smelling salts, too.
Foxtown at night did its best work. Gas lamps cast pools of light along the cobblestones.
Horse-drawn carriages rolled along the promenade—phaetons, curricles, landaus, the occasional grand town coach with a crest on the door.
Behind the wrought-iron fences of Mayfair’s richer addresses, the estates blazed with candlelight in every window.
Somewhere ahead, the live orchestra’s strings threaded through the night air.
The ballroom was teeming with guests when the Youngs arrived, music flowing out of the windows and open balcony doors. All eyes were them as they entered, Arkane all alone behind the women, not because he wanted the attention but because it was part of the program.
One by one, the host assigned to introduce the party’s most special guests called out their names and titles, one at a time.
And when it was Arkane’s turn—
“Lord Arkane Young, the Earl of Revanche.”
He had acquired the title for this event alone, and only tonight was it announced for the very first time in public.
He could see that to most of the guests, the name meant nothing.
But when he joined his family on the elevated dais, his mother’s dismayed expression spoke volumes.
She knew what it meant, and Tassy, too, by the looks of it.
Joy swallowed hard as she touched Arkane’s arm. The live orchestra had started playing again, and she was forced to raise her voice a little—
“Son...”
—which only made its nervous quaver all the more obvious.
“There’s something I should tell you.”
“Of course, Mother.”
“Please don’t be angry.”
“Why would I be angry?”
“I know you already said no—”
“But you still invited Tiara to attend tonight’s ball.”
Joy nearly gasped out loud. “H-how did you know—”
“It’s alright. I’m not angry.”
She looked into her son’s eyes. She could tell he was not lying. And not angry either, as she feared. Instead, it was worse.
“Arkane—”
She wanted to plead with him.
Please be merciful. Please be gentle. Please.
But it was too late.
The lights had gone out, the music had changed, and the host was already proceeding with the next part of the script.
“Tonight, Foxtown celebrates a new season. A season of second chances and mended hearts. A season where love blooms lovelier the second time around. Ladies and gentlemen, Lady Tiara Sauller.”
Flowery lights roamed the ballroom ceiling and walls while a lone golden ray of light followed Tiara as she slowly made her way down the same grand staircase he had descended earlier.
It had been six years since he had last set eyes on her.
Six long fucking years.
And yet it only felt like yesterday when she had destroyed him by being her true self.
His hand closed at his side. He opened it.
The tempo of the music was changing in rhythm to Tiara’s steps. She was closer now, close enough that Arkane was no longer able to gaze in her direction without actually looking at her.
She slowly came into view.
Her golden locks longer than he remembered. Turquoise earrings to match her eyes that were now sparkling with unshed tears.
Damn her.
Did she really think he would fall for that?
His family owed the Foxes a favor. That was the only reason he had agreed to this fucking sham—that, and the press piece that needed to keep its attention elsewhere for another month while Benedict handled what he was handling.
And if she had just come here without pretending once again she was all innocent like she was doing now—he could’ve let bygones be bygones.
But as she came up to him, the crowd sighing as he bowed, and she curtsied—
“May I have this dance, milady?”
She swallowed hard.
And then she stammered out, “Y-Yes.”
The microphones above them caught the exchange perfectly, and it had the whole crowd melting.
They, too, were just like him.
Fooled by her act.
But this time, he wasn’t going to let the past repeat itself.
He felt her hand shake as he took hold of it and led her to the dance floor. The music shifted into another song, giving them the cue to start waltzing. This time, no microphones. Just the two of them, and a regulation six inches of space between their bodies.
Her palm was damp against his. Her other hand rested at his shoulder the way she had been taught—correct position, correct pressure—except her fingers kept almost-closing on the fabric of his coat and then easing off again.
“So...six years.” Her voice was strangled, not at all like the Tiara he knew. Then again, did he really know her?
“I tried to text you.”
“Did you?”
“I tried calling you, too...and that’s how I realized you blocked my number.”
“And that surprised you?”
“I was just thinking. Since you’re older, more mature, you could’ve given me a chance to explain—”
“You let a guy kiss you.”
She shook her head, and his lip nearly curled at this.
“It wasn’t like that—”
“It was exactly like that,” he said pleasantly, “since his mouth was on your fucking mouth.”
He saw her wince at his language, but he didn’t take it back.
“I...I know that’s not...what I’m saying is that I never saw him as a guy.”
He stared at her in disbelief.
“I know this will sound like I’m making things up, but at that time, I was such a mess, and I was thinking...a frog.”
He nearly stopped dancing. Was she really going to keep lying like this?
“That was all he was to me.”
She sounded so damn earnest.
“A frog.”
But it just had him gritting his teeth.
“And I was a girl kissing a frog—”
He was about to cut her off, to just stop it with all the lies—
“—to make the prince jealous enough to give her the words, the only words she wanted to hear.”
—when he realized what she was saying.
“You could’ve just said it,” she whispered.
“You could’ve asked,” he snarled.
“W-Why didn’t you just say it?”
“Why didn’t you say it first?”
The silence that followed didn’t surprise him.
Of course, there was nothing for her to say since all she had done was lie—
“B-Because I was too proud and terrified.”
The words caught him off guard, and her stilted tone had his grip on her waist tightening involuntarily.
“But n-not anymore.”
And that was when she did something that was not part of the program. Tiara digging her heels in, forcing him to stop.
“I know it’s six years too late,” she said shakily, “but nothing’s changed for me.”
Damn her.
Did she really think all she had to do was say those words like she meant it, and she would once again have him eating from the palm of her hand?
“I love you, Arkane.”
Damn her. Damn her. Damn her.
“I’ve always been—”
Arkane cupped her face and kissed her.
He kissed her to shut her up. Kissed her because he couldn’t bear hearing her lie to him again. But the moment he had another taste of her lips—
It was like...finding home again, even when he knew this was all a lie.
And when she started crying again as she kissed him back?
Arkane also knew that she believed all was forgiven, and everything was going to be fine.
But she was wrong.
Because this time, he was going to make Tiara fall for him fast and hard...before crushing her heart into pieces.
He would destroy her...the way she had destroyed him six years ago.