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.
