Page 5 of Prince Cheating Charming

“Ah, Gesaint,” he said, fiddling around in his pockets, pulling out what looked like bits of old crumbly paper he’d written the ceremonial words on, as well as some whittled wood and a powdered donut. “I used to have a family of chickens from Gesaint, and very lovely they were too. Won me best in show at the county fair three years running.”

I was nervous, already pouring sweat in my tightly corseted dress and thick white gloves, but I smiled at Magnus.

At least there was one person in Norjava who had something nice to say about Gesaint.

“I used to raise Eastern Scarlet Blisswicks,” I said, and Magnus had many eager questions about the raising and care of them, only broken up by my husband coming to stand by me. We would be walking in together for the ceremony.

“I’m so sorry about your father,” I whispered again to Alexander. I knew he had not been very close with King William, who did not seem to have been a warm man, but it was still sad.

My husband squeezed my hand and gave me an affectionate kiss.

“I love you, my sweet wife,” he said, then placed my arm firmly in his and I waited beside him for the ceremony to begin.

Standing beside my tall, handsome husband, I shook my fear and insecurity away.

I was on the arm of the best man in the world who was about to become King and make me his Queen. I had nothing to worry about.

The ceremony itself was lengthy and confusing, with long passages in Norjavan that I had to listen to while standing in my official coronation gown, the heavy gold and jeweled crown digging into my scalp, trying to remind myself not to lock my knees or I’d keel over in a dead faint.

I was relieved when it was over and we all moved into the reception area.

There were a lot of official photographers and the cream of Norjava society there, and several journalists wanted to interview me, ask me what it was like to be the world’s luckiest woman, married to the heartthrob new King.

The stiff points of my bejeweled golden gown were digging into my face and I looked around for my husband.

I would of course never complain about any uncomfortable piece of clothing. It was more important to support Alexander than worry about changing into an actually comfortable gown, and I would stay at this reception in this torture device for hours, if necessary. But the crown was so heavy, the stiff points of my dress so freaking stabby, that I just wanted to know generally how long the event would last.

Alexander had left with Jewel maybe ten minutes ago, entering the little office space off of the main reception hall. He had told me I was always supposed to knock before coming in to his office or private quarters. But this couldn’t possibly be work-related right after his Coronation! One of his staffers was outside the door, but talking animatedly to Libby’s husband Henner, so I just opened the door and walked in.

“Darling, do you think—” I began, and then I stopped.

Loud, urgent, guttural noise assaulted my ears.

For one horrible second my mind tried to come up with any explanation other than what I was seeing. It was the sickening confirmation to everything I had feared and dreaded.

Jewel was bent over the desk, her skirt bunched up around her hips, her silky panties down around her ankles. She was bracing her hands on the wooden surface, her eyes closed, her lips parted to make little breathy moans.

And behind her was my husband, his hands on her hips, jerking them back to meet his sharp thrusts.

In my frozen state, my horrified eyes zoned in on his strong hands, the thick gold band on his fourth finger.

Oh my god.

As people behind me began to turn around curiously, I heard little gasps and low muffled curses as they saw what was happening.

My brain reeled, the world spinning around me.

Maybe he was just. . .

Maybe she dropped. . .

No

No no no no, this couldn’t be happening

In front of every single other person in the palace

Every one of them witnessing my excruciating humiliation

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