23
FARRAH
I took three steps into the main hall and stopped dead in my tracks. In the front of the black dais at the end of the room, my brother knelt on the cold floor, his head hanging low.
“Please, Prince Lark, reconsider,” he asked, his tone desperate.
Seated on his black throne, Prince Lark’s dark eyes rose from my brother to me. The corners of his lips turned up.
My stomach twisted in knots. Prince Lark was beautiful in a gloomy kind of way. With long black hair, thick eyebrows, and sharp angles to his face. A black crown sat on top of his head, and he downed a black suit, his thick cloak embroidered with silver details. He was beautiful, but he was also terrifying. Underneath that powerful facade, he was purely evil.
“I think we can arrange something,” Prince Lark said, standi
