Page 20 of Wear It Like a Crown

Joshua stepped into the sunlight and felt heat soak through his T-shirt.

“Nice place,” Leo said when he joined Joshua on the terrace. At Joshua’s questioning look, he elaborated. “Really. Less velvet and heavy drapes than I expected. It’s all upscale hipster.” His mouth curled up at the corners. “I like how your bed is built into the alcove. Nice work, that.”

Joshua wasnotgoing to think about Leo casually strolling into his bedroom. There be dragons. “Velvet and heavy drapes? I’m gay, not sixty.”

“Royal, though. In all honesty…”—Leo shrugged and dropped into one of the outdoor chairs—“I didn’t think much about what to expect. I’m not some monarchy groupie who religiously buysHello!magazine to read your home stories and plans for baby princes and princesses.” Then he grinned. “Guess your succession planning’s on hold for the moment.”

“That’s Emma’s duty to the Crown. I’m just the spare.” Joshua put a plate in front of Leo and sat down himself, watching Leo bend over his food to inhale deeply. Leo’s lashes were long and thick, sunlight turning their tips golden, and his cheekbones were prominent.Briefly, Joshua let himself drink in the sight. Then he pulled his focus away. “There’s freshly pressed orange juice and tea. Or would you like coffee? Hot chocolate?”

“You’re not sixty, and I’m not six,” Leo told him. “So no hot chocolate, thank you very much. I could go for tea, though.” He helped himself to a cup without giving Joshua a chance to serve him. Only now that Joshua was looking at Leo’s fingers did he notice a jittery quality to his motions, and was it possible that Leo’s decidedly nonchalant manner was designed to hide a case of nerves? Did Joshua have the power to affect him at least a little?

Or Leo might just be a naturally jittery person, and Joshua was getting ahead of himself.

Joshua sank back into his chair. “Well, go ahead and help yourself.”

“Always.” Leo sniffed the tea before he took a small sip and nodded his approval. Then he shot Joshua a sharp look over the rim of his cup. “You know what’s interesting?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “You. You let me snoop around your flat and call you Princeling, and you don’t say a word in protest. But when it’s about your friends or the institution of monarchy? That’s when you become a baby lion.”

“A baby lion,” Joshua repeated flatly. It was the easiest part of Leo’s comment to focus on.

“A baby lion,” Leo confirmed. “It’s a natural conclusion, what with that wild mane you call hair.” He followed it up with a tiny roar that came out as more of a sad kitten meow, one of his hands coming up to claw at thin air, and oh, now that wasn’t fair. Joshua didn’t want to find him endearing.

To cover up the heat rising to his face, Joshua concentrated on his food, cutting a mushroom into even halves and spearing one with a bite of tomato. When he glanced up, Leo was squinting into the sun, his chair balanced on its hind legs. An old oak tree rose behind him, shielding the terrace from view and granting the kind of privacy Joshua appreciated.

“Why is there a bed on your terrace?” Leo pointed his thumb at the wooden frame that was set against the wall, a canopy protecting the mattress from the worst of the weather.

“It’s an outdoor sofa,” Joshua said. Which wasn’t a reply, of course,and he needed to get a grip and stop allowing Leo to unsettle him like this. “Doubling as a bed. I sleep out here sometimes. When it’s hot in summer.”

For some reason, that seemed to shut Leo up. He looked away and took a dainty bite of his bacon, wiped his mouth with a napkin afterwards before offering a polite, “This is really very good.”

“Thank you,” Joshua said. “And thank you for coming. Ireallydon’t mind paying you for your time, by the way. As you may have gleaned from your casual perusal ofHello!magazine, I’m loaded.”

“No.” Leo’s tone carried a strange finality, and Joshua didn’t understand him at all.

Leo was an enigma: obviously well educated, remarkably familiar with royal conventions, yet disdainful of nobility and what it represented. Had he dated a noble, maybe? Someone who’d disappointed him, had possibly even broken his heart? What if it had been someone who’d attended Eton? That would explain how Leo knew of College Chapel. It would explain a lot, actually.

Joshua spent too much time thinking about Leo, and not enough time thinking about the reason he’d asked Leo to come here. He needed to sort out his priorities.

Reaching for his orange juice, Joshua stared down at his plate. He wasn’t particularly hungry anymore. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Then I won’t offer anymore, but please let it be known that I did. So, I guess that… Um. Like, why I asked you here. I guess I’d like to know your opinion. On me coming out. On why you think it would be a good idea.”

Leo chewed carefully, and then swallowed. His eyes were clear and calm, focused on Joshua’s face. “Let’s do this the other way around. What’s stopping you?”

Joshua should have been prepared for Leo to cut straight to the chase, but he hadn’t been. His head felt oddly empty for the second that followed Leo’s words. Nothing but blank space and white noise.

He realised he’d been holding his breath and exhaled. “It’s not… It’d be easier if it were just about me and what I want. If it wasn’t for the press and my… status.” A sharp intake of air. “You know how Tristan and Mo scoff at the idea that I have some kind of responsibility? Well, I do. I grew up knowing that anything I did would reflect on the Crown, on my family. Even on the country.”

“With great power comes great responsibility?”

Startled, Joshua looked up to find Leo smiling at him, almost kindly. So not only did Leo recognise a Churchill quote, no, he also cited Spider-Man, thus adding another piece to an incomplete puzzle. Unless he’d been thinking of the Voltaire version, that was.

Joshua cocked his head. “Thank you, Uncle Ben. Or were you thinking of revolutionary France? In which case… The opposite of thank you, I guess.”

“Revolutionary France?”

“The quote dates back to Voltaire?” Joshua didn’t know why he made it sound like a question. It was a habit his teachers had tried to rid him of—don’t ask; presume—but Joshua still tended to slip up when he was nervous. Leo made him nervous. “So, you know, abolish the French monarchy. Kill them all because yay republic. Thought it might have been a dig.”

“Relax, Princeling.” Leo’s fork scraped over his plate. “I’m not looking to have you beheaded.”

“How reassuring.”