Page 124 of Royal Icing

LEO

Someone knockedon the front door of Leo’s apartment. He opened one bleary eye and sat up in bed. Emma had left hours ago, and he’d come back and crashed after dropping her off. Who even knew he lived here? It must have been Sal.

He tossed off a blanket and ambled over to the door. He was in sweatpants and no shirt, but who in town was likely to care?

He opened the door without looking and almost fell over in shock.

“Mom?”

There was the queen, arms crossed and cheeks pink, looking like she had just walked down from the castle. He hadn’t seen her on foot in the village in forever. Years, maybe.

There was a ninety-five percent chance she was here to scream at him. But she had already cut him off—what more could she do?

“Good morning, Leopold,” she said very formally, as though he wasn’t wearing sweatpants with an adobo sauce stain on them from last night’s celebratory nachos.

“Come in,” he said, standing back to allow her to enter.

She stared at the tiny flat and the gaggle of kittens before turning back to him. Her brows were knit together.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

She stiffly held out a bakery bag. He opened it to reveal two muffins.

“I’m redeeming my auction item,” she said. “A meal with Prince Leo.”

“That was you?”

She nodded. “I have some things to say. And a birthday gift to give you.”

A birthday gift? Apparently she hadn’t forgotten after all.

She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. She handed it over, and he thanked her. It didn’t feel like a wad of cash. So what was it?

“I’ve never missed one of my children’s birthdays before,” she said quietly. “I remember every minute of the day you were born. You were always so conscientious, even then. You waited until I had a restful night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast before attempting to make your arrival.”

He smiled. At least she wasn’t screaming yet.

“Spending your birthday without you was something of a wake-up call for me. I haven’t always been the best at showing it, but I hope you know I care about you. Very much. Your father does too.”

Leo fiddled with the envelope. His mom had never expressed feelings to him before. Was she ill? Or maybe this was a dream. That made more sense. He surreptitiously pinched his own arm but didn’t suddenly jolt into a different reality.

“It’s not easy being born into royalty,” the queen said. “I’ve seen how it’s affected your father and brother. I’m not proud of what I’ve done to you. It was an overreaction, cutting you off. I know you do a lot of good with the money.”

He shook his head. “While what you’re saying is valid, I need to apologize for what I said after the ball. It was needlessly cruel.”

The queen sighed. “It may have been cruel, but you weren’t wrong.” She moved to stare out the window at the street, a tiny slice of her kingdom.

“Somewhere along the way, I think I lost sight of what it means to be queen. When the country voted to transition to a constitutional monarchy, I took it as a slight. Like they didn’t trust me and your father enough to lead them. When, realistically, it was just what needed to happen. Monarchies are outdated, antiquated. I just wanted to remind them that we’re…still here.”

Leo came to stand next to her, and together they stared out the window. “You still have such power. You have so much capacity to do some good for this country.”

“I know. That’s why I’m meeting with parliament this morning.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“To discuss the creation of a new office and a new position. The minister of charitable giving. They would maintain oversight of the nation’s need for charity projects and be given access to funds to accomplish the necessary work. I think I know the perfect candidate for it. It’s highly irregular for a member of the royal family to hold a traditional job, but I can’t think of anyone better suited.”

Leo turned to her. “You do mean me and not John, right?”