Page 34 of Prince Cheating Charming

And I grabbed my plate of cheese and crackers and left, ignoring the shattered whimper he made as I did.

CHAPTER 14

Delilah

The next morning I woke up early and decided to take breakfast down to St. Constance’s with Magnus and Roger and whoever else was there. I had been a little too affected by the sight of Alexander shirtless last night. He wasn’t going to get me to change my mind just with his stupid attractive body, so I had no interest in eating with him.

Today the Archbishop’s quarters were cluttered in the happiest way with bits of flotsam and jetsam from Magnus’ work. I ate with Magnus and Roger, and had a cup of Roger’s famous hair-curlingly strong coffee.

“He’s either trying to keep me young or kill me,” Magnus said as he took a sip, but I knew from Roger’s affectionate look that it certainly wasn’t the latter option.

I felt jealous watching them interact, Magnus throwing the dishes any which way in the dishwasher and Roger tsking with affectionate annoyance as he redid the whole thing.

Then I moved to the chapel itself, laying out my paints and tools for the day.

It gave me a lot of satisfaction to plan the mural and I had a little pang of regret that when I moved away I wouldn’t be able to see my work or my friends.

The Archbishop clearly felt the same way as he examined the mural section I had painted yesterday. It was an up-close view of St. Constance watching devotees bring her offerings with a slightly bored look on her face.

God, what a piece of work she was! I gave her portrait an affectionate wink.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Magnus said grumpily. “You’re too talented an artist. Have you seen anyone else around the palace you might want to marry?”

I thought briefly about Davies. He would be a stable, respectful husband. Kind and handsome. Just the man I needed to help me get over Alexander.

So why did the thought depress me? I tried to shake off the feeling.

“I don’t think the King would let me stay here if I was married to someone else,” I laughed, mixing the paints together for the panel of St. Constance whipping the toilet paper price gougers. Like most of the other pieces of art, it mixed St. Constance’s ironclad unhinged vengeance with modern sins Magnus did not approve of.

“She won’t be marrying anybody else,” Alexander gritted out behind me, making me splash way too much orange into the bloody welts Constance had raised with her whip.

Alexander looked almost feral, like he had barely slept. His blonde hair was sticking out all over and the dark circles under his eyes had deepened.

His shirt looked rumpled.

Was that the same one he had been wearing yesterday?

“Here,” he said, dropping a thick book in front of me as Magnus, Libby, and I worked on mapping out the rest of the St. Constance artwork.

“Knock before you enter this holy place,” Magnus snapped.

“Marriage counseling,” the King said.

“I’m not interested in that,” I replied, pushing the book away from me. “And you’re getting dust all over my paints.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, hastily trying to brush away the dust and only succeeding in smearing the paint over himself.

“Please, Delilah,” he begged. “You have to tell me what I can do to make this up to you.”

“Nothing,” I said promptly. “Nothing can erase the memory of you fucking Jewel against the desk.”

“Heterosexual debauchery,” said Magnus, who could rarely ever resist putting his oar in, “is a scourge upon the earth. Who do you think will be doing this marriage counseling? I assure you it will not be me.”

“It has to be you,” Alexander retorted. “Check the book. It’s one of the requirements, even for an annulment. The Archbishop has to provide marital counseling in the event of a proposed annulment.”

“It’s not a proposed annulment,” I said with annoyance, but Magnus had already grabbed the book and pulled it toward himself.

“Who taught this meathead to read?” he asked unpleasantly, and I jostled in beside him to read the passage.

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