Page 95 of Partnering with the Artist

It has been three days since the Creator’s Ball, three days since we got married, three days of knowing a sensation that seems an awful lot likejoy.

And we’re already having our first fight?

I’m proud of my wife for meeting me head on in this argument instead of fawning. Character development truly looks beautiful on her. In contrast, I’m trying my very best not to think she’s being stupid. I wish I could be as character developed as her.

“Maelin, I worked so hard on this.” I take a deep breath, look down at my angel, my goddess, mywifein the painting I’ve been carefully constructing since she posed for me weeks ago. “I know it’s not perfect. Nothing can compare to your flesh and bone, but…do you hate it, or just me?”

“Neither!” Her cheeks explode red. “I love it. That doesnotmean you can get it printed and framed and put in thefoyer! I’m inpajamasand asheer robe. And it’s hyper-realistic. You cannot put what looks like a giant photo of me in my pj’s on the wall in the main foyer!”

“But we don’t have many visitors here. Everyone who comes through has already seen you in your pj’s. Even Crimson.”

“Crisis’s friend seeing me in my pj’s was anaccidentthat I do not want readily available to her or anyone else.” Maelin pushesback her white hair and frees a breath. “If you absolutelymust, you may frame it and keep it in our bedroom.”

“Insufficient people will be able to bask in the glory of your beauty within that setting.”

She frowns at me. Rises. Slowly. “Zakery.”

I wince. “Yes, my princess?”

“Having my scantily-clad image displayed precariously isnot allowed. This is a boundary I have. If you choose not to abide, I will no longer pose for you. Ever again.”

I flinch. “I do not like that.”

“You don’t have to like it. You just have to understand it.” Her arms cross. “Why do you even want your wife on display in a house full of mostly men?”

I turn my tablet toward her, show her the glory and beauty that isher excellence. She is the light in the darkness. Seated upon rivulets of ink, gleaming like a sunrise in pink. “I want how I see you to be the first thing you see whenever you come back home. I want you to know you are entering a place that loves you.”

“So this is about me?” Her brow arches.

“Yes.”

“And I don’t want it?”

I frown. “You don’t want loads of things that are good for you. Like to keep a proper sleep schedule—”

“Your fault. Lately.” She flushes.

I flush as well, because, yeah, okay,fine. My fault.Lately. “You drink water about as well as your mother does.”

“Iforgetwater exists. Mom hates it. There’s a difference.”

“You also forget food exists. Face it, Maelin, you do not take care of yourself as well as you should—as well as agoddessdeserves.” I wobble the painting at her. “You need more reminders that you are an immaculate being.”

She presses the lock button on my device. “You aren’tsupposed to argue with a boundary.”

“If your boundary is that you’re going to jump off a cliff, it’s my job to stop you.”

“These examples are not equally scaled.”

“Your self-perception isveryimportant.”

She grips my chin, and my heart jumps. Dragging my face in, she murmurs, “Zakery…don’t you haveotherways to stroke my self-esteem?”

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

“Don’tma’amme.”

“Sorry.” I swallow, hard. Confident and secure Maelin has got me on my knees for her. Actually,anyversion of Maelin could drop me to my knees with a single look. I love her. So much. And feeling that love boil beneath my skin, every day, is a blessing. Wanting her, more violently with every touch we share, is ablessing.

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