Page 1 of Trick

Prologue

Poet

Come here, my sweeting. I have a story to share. I shall amuse you, I promise. ’Tis what I do best. If you consider my costume, with its silken frills and leather thrills, my specialties will be more obvious.

Aye. That’s right. Come to me.

And fear not, for I’m renowned. My voice is smooth, my words are spiced, and my smile wickedly pretty. Courtiers say as much whilst lifting goblets to their mouths. Their teeth scrape over the cup rims, their lips tinted from wine as they talk of my skills—the ones I perform in throne rooms, as well as in beds.

I know what people say, for I’m attuned to the whispers in this sensuous court. Rumors drift through the halls, the details carried along on erotic breezes, easy to catch if you’re sly.

Have I not mentioned I live in a castle? You’ll learn more about that soon.

Indeed, I have your attention. Splendid.

My name is Poet. What is yours?

Hush. Let me guess.

Now allow me to list my attributes. I can flip across a floor like liquid, mock behind your back, and steal your moans with a touch. I speak with the silver tongue of a trickster. If you ask nicely, I’ll delight you with a rhyme, a few lines of verse spun for your pleasure.

If you ask even nicer, I might grace you with that rhyme in private—as you like.

I’m a trinket, an accessory of the Crown. I’m a riddle, a brilliant whore, a hidden agenda.

The better to outwit you.

I’m the finest jest you’ll ever know. If you irritate me, I’ll strike you down with words, for swords are the toys of knights, whilst I use more penetrating weapons.

That doesn’t mean I don’t know how to handle a blade. For I can. And I have. Many times, I’ve kept one close whilst slipping undetected from this court, my silhouette passing in and out of shadows, with the guards none the wiser. A weapon has been necessary on those nights, and reaching my priceless destination, my dangerous little secret, has been worth the risk.

Still, my wit is sharper than a blade—and even lovelier than a fuck. And ah, that is the greatest triumph, because it brings even the most artful of this kingdom to their knees.

For only a clever man knows how to play the fool.

Yet none of these skills can deceive a strong will. Recently, I’ve learned that lesson well.

I had seen her. I’d been watching her.

Soon, I would have her. Yet even sooner, I would lose myself in her.

So let me tell you how I picked a sinful battle against a powerful opponent.

Not a king. Nor a queen.

Nay. I chose their daughter.

1

Briar

I took a deep, floral breath and held it.

Held it good and tight.

Outside the castle walls, sunset drenched the horizon in shades of deep red and feverish gold. Pitched roofs germinating with moss from the lower town formed a northern crescent around this palace. And surrounding both, rolling hills sprawled across the vista, where blossoms shivered and grasses clapped with noise.

Beyond that stood the wildflower forest.

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