Page 34 of The Problem with Princes
Should I mention that maybe he should take a hard look at Claire? Even now she is looking around like she is trying to avoid eye contact. Yeah, shifty.
“Are you ready to begin?” Claire asks.
Ty nods, tugging me a little closer to him.
The monastery is breathtaking. The nave and chancel are covered in paintings of saints, all in bright reds and yellows. Chandeliers of green, red, and blue glass trimmed in gold glow with candlelight. My neck aches from tipping my head back to see the paintings on the high, domed ceiling above.
As we walk through the rooms, Claire tells stories of ancient times and things that happened more recently. She talks about the Nazi occupation and of the treasures they stole when they left. “Many of the artifacts have yet to be returned,” she finishes with a sad sigh.
I lean into Tyrone. “It’s a story I’ve heard through much of Europe. I don’t think most people realize how much of the world’s treasures were lost at the hands of Hitler and his armies.”
I’m startled as we round the corner into the anteroom of the catacombs. Shelves of skulls line the walls. I look at Claire and see the mischievous look in her eyes. She purposely didn’t warn me to get a reaction and make me look like an idiot. But the jokes on her. He already knows I’m an idiot.
Tyrone slides his hand around my waist and whispers into my ear. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you about them. We don’t need to stay in here if you find them unsettling.”
I shake my head. “No. I was only startled. They don’t bother me in the least.” It is stretching the truth a little. I mean, who really enjoys staring at skulls? But I’m not about to let Claire think she has succeeded with her little game.
We enter the dining room. It looks like a modern-day restaurant with a dozen or more small square tables dotting the room. The view out the tall wavey glass windows is stunning and I suck in a breath. In my mind I can see the long rustic tables that must have occupied this room when the monks lived here centuries ago. At the center of the room, a table is set for two.
Claire nods toward the table. “There is your table, Your Highness. I will send your waiter out immediately.” She gives me one last appraising look and makes it very obvious she finds me lacking.
Suddenly it hits me. She is such the Hallmark movie cliché. The woman who wants the male character for herself, so she treats the female lead contemptuously. Oh Claire. I can read you like a book.
But my satisfied smirk falls when I realize I’m just as much of a cliché as she. Me and my jealous glares are about as cliché as it gets. Why are we girls like this? Why do we fall into this pattern enough that we’ve actually become a cliché?
I square my shoulders. My cliché days are over. I smile warmly at Claire, and I reach out and grab her hand in both of mine.
She looks a bit shocked at the contact.
“Thanks so much for the tour. You were a great guide and really know your stuff.”
Her brows furrow slightly, as if she is wondering if I might be trying to trick her. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. You had some very intelligent questions.”
“Oh, thanks.” I tilt my head to the side. “It very much lived up to my expectations. So thanks again.”
She smiles and it seems genuine, if a little off kilter. I guess she didn’t expect me to be sincere. I decide not to mention Claire’s shiftiness to Sander or Ty. It does feel on-plan for my new non-cliché lifestyle.
Tyrone motions me over and pulls a chair out.
“Thank you.” I sit down and put my napkin in my lap as I look around at the platters and pictures hanging on the walls.
“What was that all about?” Ty dips his head in Claire’s direction.
I glance over at her. “Oh, I was just telling her how much I enjoyed the tour.”
He raises a single brow. “Oh? I got the feeling the two of you didn’t care for each other.”
I lift a shoulder. “Maybe I didn’t like her all that much at first. But she’s growing on me. I mean she is so knowledgeable. You have to admire that.”
His head slowly moves up and down and he has a perplexed look on his face.
I motion to the room around us. “You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble on my account. I’m perfectly happy just looking around.”
“But you are happy to be eating here also, right?”
“Well, duh.” I put my elbow on the table and drop my chin onto my palm. “What is there not to be happy about when food is involved?”
“Then my objective is achieved.” He sits back in his seat and watches me.
