Chapter 46

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warnings - PTSD, drinking, lust, banter flirting, mentions of abuse from an establishment, mentions of promiscuity, dares, man experiencing sexual harassment, non con kissing,

Timothée was dressed in the same blush pink as I was, but he made it look good. I felt like I'd gotten drunk before entering the banquet hall, just on time, as Timothée had wanted may I add. The intimacy I'd experienced with Timothée right after he'd given me the best sex of my life, had made me dizzy with desire. I felt as if I were watching myself grin at guests.

King Gilderoy had sat us one on each side of him. I knew he probably didn't want Timothée and I to be too close together. Timothée was being as gentlemanly as possible, and I hoped his father appreciated his effort. His skin looked sickly with the effort he was putting into accommodating everyone's needs but his own.

"Here," I said as I floated over to him, trying my best to walk lightly in the massive dress I wore. He sniffed it and nearly gagged.

"This stuff is pretty strong, how did you manage to get it? They're only serving sparkling wine."

"I bribed the cook, you looked like you needed something a bit stronger than that pink stuff," I shrugged.

"You are a lifesaver," he murmured, his eyes locked on mine as he downed half the goblet in one go. I shivered at the eye contact.

"You take the last bit," He offered the foul smelling drink to me.

"I got it for you," I pushed it back toward him.

"You are going through the same shit I am. You know, pretending we care about all these nobles like we didn't just get out of a traumatic and life threatening situation."

"Yeah, but you are being a lot nicer than I am," I chuckled. So far I had been shutting down most conversations about what we had gone through. Everyone there seemed to be very morbidly curious.

"Comes with the title," He shrugged, pointing to the golden circlet in his hair.

"Alright fine Chalamet, give me the last bit," I caved, reaching for the cup.

"Nah, maybe I want it now," Timothée's eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Alright, I got it for you anyway," it was my turn to shrug.

"Aw boo, you are no fun, you were supposed to fight me for it," He smirked.

"That would be terrible, beating the Prince's ass in front of all his loyal subjects, I don't think the kingdom would ever live it down."

"Shut it you," he giggled, knocking his shoulder with mine.

"You know it is true," I said smugly.

"So what if it is, you don't need to rub my face in it."

"That is what I get paid the big bucks for though," I countered.

"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow. "And pray tell, who is paying you to make a fool out of me?"

"I'll never tell," I shot back. "I'm not like you Chalamet, I don't sleep with foreign rebels, I keep my secrets close to the belt."

I worried for a moment that I had gone too far. I used to throw those things in his face, would it be okay if I used it for banter foder now? Timothée burst out laughing, his infectious laugh rang out in the room, turning several heads.

"I can't believe you said that," He chuckled, cheeks cherry red.

"What?" I asked meekly. "That is like the number one story about you I heard when I was away. Prince Timothée beds the kingdom's enemy."

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