Page 98 of Trick

My Autumn Princess was the last to go.

I bade the guards a productive alpha-worthy night and left. The route to her suite necessitated using one of two passages from the artist wing, which meant she had to pass my chambers no matter which one she chose. This made little difference to me until I heard the guards from their post.

“Wait. Who the hell was that?”

“That was Poet, you idiot. We just spoke with—”

“Not him. That other one.”

Fuck. I caught up to the Royal, stole her hand, dragged her to my door, wrenched it ajar, and wheeled her inside.

Actually, I may have twirled her under my arm when I did it.

Briar yanked her hand from mine. “What’s the meaning of this?”

I bolted the latch. “Hush.”

“Don’thushme—”

“Briar,” I hissed. “Shut. Up.”

Either they suspected an intruder or someone pursuing me, or they merely needed to go through the motions of checking. They hadn’t recognized Briar. However, if they found her, they’d want to know what she was doing in this wing alone.

Or not alone. Patrol guards could be entirely and ironically useless outside of invasions and assassins. But only during the quieter and smaller moments did they overlook roaming shadows.

And come, the night watch weren’t negligent. It would seem too much of a coincidence to find Briar shortly after they’d spoken with me. Either that, or I was being paranoid.

By now, the fire in my grate had gone cold. Only moonlight from the window bled through, indigo puddling across the rug.

Boots pounded toward my door. The princess paled, color draining from her face. On second thought, of all the places to get caught, in my debauched abode might be the worst.

So be it. I never said I was right all the time.

I snatched Briar’s fingers, hauled her across the room, and climbed onto my bed, where I started to bounce. Not my finest hour, but I’d been left with little choice.

I curled my palms at her. “Don’t squint at me. Jump.”

Briar balked. “You’ve lost your sense.”

“I’ll lose my valuable testes, and you’ll lose your virtuous prestige, if they find you here. Now jump and moan.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Clearing my throat, I demonstrated. A stream of lusty groans projected from my throat, in tempo with the headboard rapping against the wall, both loud enough for the guards to hear.

They paused outside my chambers and gave a tentative knock.

I mouthed to Her Highness, repeating my instructions. After a moment’s hesitation, she did as I’d asked, bobbing feebly on the mattress. Unfortunately, she cawed like a frustrated crow instead of replicating a female in the throes of a climax.

Another knock. “Be gone,” I called.

“Poet?” the male stuttered.

I couldn’t have sprinted from our chat and directly into the arms of a paramour that quickly, much less shoved my pants down far enough to get the job done. Ultimately, I trusted they wouldn’t calculate those details. The point was they believed I had company, likely with the person they’d noticed, likely a courtier on a mission to get fucked by the Court Jester. They wouldn’t ask me to admit them if it meant threatening an impending orgasm.

Aye. Indeed, I could have answered whilst the princess kept out of sight. This charade could be overly theatrical on my part.

“We’re searching the hall for a possible lurker who might have come this way,” the male guard said. “Did you happen to see anything untoward?”

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