Page 19 of Prince Cheating Charming

The dining room was light and bright and open, and looked out over the extensive palace grounds, with a great view of the lush forests and lakes surrounding us. The staff was busy preparing my breakfast but no one else was around.

I was displeased to see the table absolutely sagging with the amount of flowers on it—dozens of lush multicolored bouquets freshly cut from the palace gardens, and expensive luxury bouquets dripping with gems from the florists.

I grabbed at the big square card that sat by my usual place at the table and ripped it open to see Alexander’s strong, bold writing.

Sorry, that was stupid of me

It won’t happen again

I love you

A

I rolled my eyes and ripped it into little pieces over my husband’s plate. I did not believe a word of it.

Then I rung the bell and asked the attendant to take the flowers to the retirement home down in the nearby town.

It looked much better with them gone, and I opened my laptop and began to make a list for what I’d need to do to move out.

The flowers had only been gone for a few minutes when my husband walked in.

Alexander looked like he had freshly showered, and he was dressed in navy slacks and a crisp white polo shirt. At one point, the sight of the shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the strength of his body tapered down to that narrow perfect waist, would have made me swoon internally, but now I barely gave him a glance, occupied with figuring out which moving company to go with.

“Good morning, Delilah,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

I ignored him.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sitting at the seat right across from me.

I took a sip of my coffee.

Now I would definitely miss the coffee. Full-bodied, perfectly balanced, with a perfect amount of cinnamon spice cream the kitchen staff made themselves.

“Just researching different moving companies,” I said.

“Not this again!” Alexander said in a clipped voice. “Stop joking Delilah, it’s not funny anymore.”

“It’s not a joke,” I said with my mouth full of a perfectly-done egg. “I’m out of here in a month.”

God, I was so happy I didn’t have to worry about eating like a lady around him anymore, and I barely spared his tight jaw and grimace a glance.

Maurice came out of the kitchen to bring me my breakfast of delicate, savory crepes personally.

“These look amazing!” I enthused as he set them down in front of me.

Maurice beamed. “You are always so appreciative of ze cooking,” he said in his thick French accent.

“Because you’re the best,” I laughed. “But Maurice, are you ready to have either Julia or Jewel as your Queen soon?” I asked, picking up my fork and knife.

The excitable Frenchman glared at King Alexander, his moustaches bristling.

“Non!” he said passionately. “If that happens, I am out! NON! I am not going to preside over a kitchen with either one of those dead-eyes bitches!”

I ate the crepes as Maurice let me know in a stream of angry, heated commentary exactly what he thought of the idea.

“You won’t have to,” Alexander broke in irritably. “Delilah is your Queen and that is never going to change.”

My lips twitched at the look on Maurice’s face, and I glanced over at Alexander, surprised to see two spots of color high on his cheeks.

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