When I smooth my dress back into place, I press my thighs together, already feeling sore. He helps me with my hair, straightening it down like he didn’t just wreck me. Then I slide back into my panties, sealing our secret.
He pulls out my chair with a smile. “Now, where were we?”
“Second breakfast.” I lower myself into the chair, feeling like a new woman.
I’m so aware of my body and the wetness between my legs. I reach for my coffee cup and take a sip like I’m not sitting here, full of the crown prince of Montclaire.
He adds food to two plates—eggs, bacon, and fruit—then sets it in front of me.
“Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure to serve you.” Louis sits beside me, his free hand holding mine.
“Your lips look swollen,” I tell him before meeting his eyes. “Anyone who sees us …”
“Can assume what they fucking want. No one will say anything to my face.”
I can’t help but smile.
“This feels like the calm before the storm.”
Tonight, everything will change.
“Tatiana agreed to end it. Publicly. So then my mother cannot make excuses,” he says.
“And if she doesn’t?” I ask, studying him. “I’m sorry, but I don’t trust her.”
“You shouldn’t. But I’m choosing you. Publicly and permanently.” He meets my eyes. “This ends before the clock strikes midnight.”
I shift in my seat because this entire royal situation makes me nervous.
He rubs his thumb across my hand. “The sun will still rise tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day.”
Before I can respond, a key clicks into the lock.
My whole body goes rigid. Louis is completely calm, but unamused as he watches the door. A minute later, it swings open, and the queen strides in with Tatiana two steps behind her. As her eyes sweep over the two of us, I see both of their faces fill with fury. I set my fork down and cross my ankles under the table, knowing how he just marked and claimed me.
“Louis.” Her voice could freeze the Mediterranean. “I was told there was a disagreement.”
“Good morning, Mother.” He doesn’t stand. He lifts his coffee cup and takes a leisurely sip before setting it down. “I wasn’t aware breakfast with the royal painter required approval.”
Her gaze flicks to me, then back to him. “You dismissed the staff.”
“They were hovering. I find it difficult to eat when I’m being watched.” He reaches for a piece of toast, buttering it with infuriating calm.
“It never seemed to bother you before,” she states.
“Yeah, well, a lot of things are changing around here,” he warns.
I smile politely, and her lips move into a straight line.
“I invited Miss Cross and made it very clear to her that having breakfast with me wasn’t optional,” Louis states.
Tatiana hovers behind the queen, watching me with hate in her eyes.
“Why?” his mother bluntly asks.
“I was discussing a private commission I’d like created.” He takes a bite of toast and chews slowly. “A gift for Father’s birthday. I wanted to keep it a surprise, which is why I required privacy. Surely, that’s within my rights? Shall I ask His Majesty?”
