Page 10 of Royal Icing

LEO

Leo pumpeda stream of black coffee into a cup and checked his watch. It was almost ten. He cast a glance around the town hall building. Not even a third of the creaky wooden seats were filled. It was a modest turnout, maybe twenty people. But it was necessary work.

“Catch the match last night?” Salvador Gomez, Leo’s best friend and the owner of the local pub, sidled over and picked up a stale-looking donut.

Leo took a sip. “Madrid slaughtered Barcelona. You owe me twenty euros.”

Sal grumbled and pulled a twenty out of his wallet. “Here. Put it toward better donuts next time.”

“Our baker left,” Leo explained. “This is all we have.”

Sal raised his eyebrows. “Can’t imagine your mother is pleased about that.”

“It’s John’s fault,” Leo muttered. “I’ll explain later. Grab the mic?”

Scandal aside, he would really miss Sarah. She was always pleasant, and her crusty homemade bread slathered in Irish butter was better than sex. Well, almost.

Sal nodded and dusted his hands off before picking up a wireless microphone.

Leo walked down the center aisle. Everyone in attendance leapt to their feet, and he shook his head.

“There’s no need for that,” he called to the room. But no one sat.

He sat on the edge of the table at the front of the room, dragging a yellow legal pad into his lap. Finally, everyone took their seats.

“Thank you all for coming. We’re going to start with a couple of community updates, and then we’ll air our grievances.”

A couple people chuckled.

“Captain Allard, where did we land on filling that open position for another officer?”

A beefy-looking man in uniform accepted the wireless mic from Sal. “Filled, Your Highness. Officer Trusdale joins the force next week.”

“Perfect. And I trust you’ll be able to dispatch an officer to patrol the high street? People have been flying down that road, and there are children trying to walk to school.”

“Consider it done,” the captain said.

“Excellent. Any other agenda items from the force?”

The captain mentioned some upgrades to riot gear, and Leo jotted it down. Parliament would probably balk at sending more funding to the force since they had just approved a full-time position, but it was what it was.

After a few other updates, talk turned to the winter carnival.

“Isabelle, how is setup for the carnival going?”

“Things are going well, Your Highness,” said a short, brown-haired woman with rhinestone glasses.

Leo grunted. No matter how many times he requested people drop the honorific, they never did.

“The RSVPs on the event site are encouraging, but I think foot traffic would increase if the royal family were to make an appearance on opening night?” She phrased her statement as a question. There was a hesitancy in her voice.

Leo frowned. Proceeds from this year’s carnival were going to support the local no-kill animal shelter. Football was on tomorrow, which meant his father would be cemented to his armchair. His mother didn’t usually attend town events, and John and his blooming black eye were supposed to be lying low. Ruby probably had plans with friends.

“I’m not sure how much it will help, but I can make an appearance tomorrow night. Everyone else is…occupied.”

“Thank you so much, Your Highness.” She was still talking fast. “There is one other thing.”

“Go on,” Leo said.