Leopold, Part Six: A Royal Heartbreakers Romance

by Renna Peak

  “You’re having second thoughts.”

  I frown. “No.”

  He nods. “This is about the interview, isn’t it?” He rubs at his jaw for a moment. “Elle, I still think it is a terrible idea. It’s not too late to change your mind. In fact, if it were up to me—”

  “But it isn’t up to you, Leo. And I want to tell my story. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I’ve held onto the shame that came with it for way too long. Even if the consequences are as dire as I think they might be—”

  “Elle, before you commit to doing this interview, I believe we should have Matthias look into exactly what those repercussions will be for you. If you should lose your ability to practice medicine, for example—”

  I interrupt him again. “I might.” My heart bangs in my chest even acknowledging that possibility. “It’s certainly possible that the licensing board will find that I behaved unethically, even if they don’t penalize me for what happened in medical school. And that would have the same outcome.”

  He rubs his jaw again for a moment. “And what would you do if that came to pass?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know, Leo. I haven’t really thought about it.”

  Leo glances around the patio of the restaurant where we’re sitting, obviously looking for those who might betray him—for some reporter lurking in the shadows, just waiting to break a big story like this one. He finally looks back at me. “Elle, you should think about it. I imagine that it took you a considerable amount of effort to pass your exams after medical school—the tests you had to take to become a fully recognized doctor.”

  I nod. “The licensing exams. Yes, they were a pain in the ass.”

  “And what would you do if you lost the ability to practice medicine?”

  “I…I don’t know.” I haven’t really thought about that—I haven’t wanted to let myself think about it. Practicing medicine is all I know—it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.

  He frowns. “You should think about it. Elle…” He lets out a small sigh. “My family is definitely not worthy of having you give up something in which you are so fantastically talented. You have told me many times in the short span of time we’ve known each other that you are unworthy of my gifts or even of my love. But I must tell you, Elle, that my family is much more unworthy of you.”

  I shake my head. “That isn’t true, Leo. I can’t imagine a family more worthy. And I’m just one person. It isn’t as though if I’m unable to practice medicine, the whole world is without doctors, you know. There are plenty more like me.”

  He gives my hand a small squeeze. “Elle, there is no one like you.”

  I smile and try not to roll my eyes. Accepting his compliments is so much more difficult than accepting Stephan’s insults. But I don’t really want to think about the question—the truth is, I have no idea what I would do if I was unable to practice medicine. I’m not sure what else there is for me.

  He smiles and stands, extending his hand for me to take again. “Shall we return to the palace? Perhaps tomorrow, we can venture into the city again in the afternoon. Or perhaps you would rather have a proper tour of the palace?”

  I return his smile. “Let’s see what the day brings. You never know—you might be so tired from staring at numbers all day that you’ll fall asleep before Matthias brings your dinner.”

  His gaze narrows playfully. “I fully expect to be exhausted tomorrow, much as I expect to be after tonight.” He lifts a brow and tries to hide his grin. “And trust me, Elle, that exhaustion will have nothing to do with numbers. Unless we are counting once more then number of ways I will have you before morning.”

  I laugh to cover the shiver of electricity that burns through me at his words.

  How the hell am I ever supposed to go back to living a normal life? For as much as I’m thinking about pushing this life away and somehow figuring out how to go back to reality, I’m just not sure I can. I tell myself I want to, but I’m not sure if that’s true, either. What I really want—regardless of where we are—is to spend my days with Leo. And my nights. Definitely my nights.

  I take his hand and we begin the walk back to where the car is waiting.

  Leo points out a few more sights along the way, much as he has done all afternoon. It’s a little beside the point now, though, since the sun has nearly disappeared beneath the horizon and it’s difficult to see any of the things he’s telling me about.

  We finally reach the car and he opens the door for me, sliding in next to me after I enter. I half expect him to try to seduce me in the car, but he’s a perfect gentleman. He only holds my hand and continues to try to point out landmarks to me on the way back to the palace.

  We finally arrive and exit the car. The walk back to the rear entry of the palace is slow—Leo is walking much more slowly than usual, almost as though he feels the same sense of dread I felt earlier.

  He finally turns to me before we get to the doors. “Elle, you know we are not bound here, right?”

  “Bound?” I’m sure if there were more light, he would see how confused I look. “What are you talking about?”

  He lets out a long breath. I can barely see him in the dim lighting from the walkway. “I only mean that if you are regretting your conversation with my parents this morning, we can still leave Montovia. I’ve been thinking about what you said—about living the way others live. Though I’m still not sure I could, I would be willing to try. For you.”

  I smile. “I appreciate that, Leo. I do. But I haven’t changed my mind. And I think you’re worrying about things a lot more than you need to. It’s all going to work out the way it’s supposed to. I’m going to tell this story—I’m going to get it off my chest once and for all. And who knows? Maybe it will save some other women from going through what I went through. Maybe it will help other women who’ve been through the same thing to let go of their own shame. Because that’s something I still need a lot of help with, Leo. Letting go of my shame.”

  He nods. “Of course. I didn’t mean that you shouldn’t do what it is you feel is right, Elle. Only that you shouldn’t be doing it to protect my family. You should be doing it for yourself, if you’re doing it for anyone at all.”

  “But Leo, I am doing it for myself. Don’t you see that?”

  He slides his arms around my waist. “I don’t believe I’ve said that I love you in quite some time, Elle.”

  I grin. “I know. It’s been an eternity, Leo. Probably at least an hour.” I fake a gasp. “Maybe even two.”

  He presses his lips against mine for a moment and I know by the way my body reacts—by the way my heart pounds and the heat coils inside me—where we’re headed next.

  The kiss is short—too short—and he pulls away, probably not wanting to make a scene again. We do tend to get a little out of control in public for some reason. But he takes my hand in his and leads me to the door.

  We’re barely through the entryway when I see the familiar shape of Stephan standing in front of us.

  He looks first at Leo, giving a small—probably phony—bow of his head. “Your Highness.” He lifts his head and turns to me, sneering. “Miss Parker.”

  I roll my eyes, but don’t respond otherwise. If I’ve learned nothing else in the past few days, it’s that it isn’t worth it to engage with Stephan at all.

  His gaze turns to Leo again. “You’ll notice that I’m still here, Your Highness.”

  Leo clenches my hand tightly, but also doesn’t otherwise respond to the man.

  “And I warned you, Your Highness. I warned you. And now that I am officially on probation and under the watchful eye of a much less senior valet, I intend to keep my promise to you both.”

  Leo almost growls but doesn’t say anything.

  I look up at Leo. “Let’s just go to bed.”

  Stephan lets out a short laugh. “Yes, do go to bed, Your Highness. And enjoy your tawdry affair while you can.” He grins. “This night will be the last you spend with her.”

&nbs
p; Leo

  This will be the last night you spend with her.

  Stephan’s words linger in my head well into the night—though Elle and I temporarily distract ourselves with far more pleasurable things—and they’re the first thing on my mind when I wake in the morning.

  He’s bluffing, I tell myself. My parents are on my side. Matthias is keeping an eye out for any trouble. And—most importantly—Elle and I are in this together. Standing together. Stephan might be a cunning weasel, but he’s still only one man. We’ve already sidestepped his machinations a couple of times, and I have no doubt we’ll do so again.

  As usual, Elle is still asleep. Today, though, I’m not inclined to leave her. I reach for my phone on the nightstand and send a text to Matthias asking him to order us some breakfast and bring the tax files to Elle’s rooms at his earliest convenience. Then I lie back and wait.

  Stephan won’t harm us, I think. I won’t let him. But there are some things outside of even my control.

  I run my fingers through Elle’s soft hair. I don’t want her to lose her medical license for the sake of me or my family, but I have little say over what the medical board in the United States will do when she tells her story. I might be allowed some say over whether or not she can practice medicine here—but the damage to her professional reputation would still be done.

  I can’t help but think about our conversation last night—about the way she seems so unwilling to believe that she could live life here. It’s almost as if she’s afraid to be happy, to enjoy life too much, for fear that it will bring something terrible down upon her. As if pain must invariably follow pleasure, or sacrifice must follow abundance. If she is too happy, if she fully accepts the joy life gives her, she seems to believe she is only inviting future anguish.

  Of course, given the way life has treated her, I can’t say I blame her for such beliefs. I have never been afraid to accept the joys life has given me, but I have not suffered the way she has. She dares not trust anything or anyone around her. How do I sweep away those fears?

  A soft knock sounds in the outer room, and I quietly slide out of bed, taking care not to disturb her. Matthias is at the door with a cart of tea and food.

  “Good morning, Your Highness,” he says cheerfully.

  “Good morning, Matthias.” I step aside so he can bring the cart into the room. “Are those honey rolls I see?”

  “Yes,” he says. “Chef was in a good mood today. The rumor is that she’s formed a romantic attachment to our newest footman—that young fellow.”

  I grin. “If it keeps us in honey buns, then I give them my blessing.”

  As he sets out the trays, I clasp my hands behind my back and think. Part of me wonders if the best way to deal with Stephan is simply to ignore him—to stop acknowledging that his little plots are getting to us in any way. I’ve done nothing but feed his dislike and distrust since I arrived here with Elle, and perhaps the best strategy would be to stop engaging him.

  On the other hand, I’m not willing to take any risks where Elle is concerned.

  “Matthias,” I say softly. “To your knowledge, has Stephan been up to anything suspicious since yesterday?”

  Matthias straightens, frowning. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen much of him, Your Highness. Do you think he will attempt something in retaliation for your scuffle yesterday?”

  “He threatened me and Elle last night,” I say. “I fear he may be planning something.”

  Matthias nods grimly. “Then I will see what I can discover. He isn’t particularly popular among most of the staff—though there are a few who will be loyal to him—and if I ask the right questions in the right places, I’ll probably learn a few things.”

  In spite of my worry, I find myself smiling again. “You should have been a spy, Matthias.”

  “Who says I’m not?” He returns my smile. “But do not thank me so soon, Your Highness. I haven’t learned anything yet.” He’s finished with the food and tea, so he bends over and pulls my pile of tax files from one of the cart’s lower shelves. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Your Highness?”

  I pace a few steps, my earlier thoughts coming back to me. “I don’t know.”

  His brow wrinkles in confusion. “Your Highness?”

  “Forgive me,” I say with a wave of my hand. “I’m not really sure if you can help me or not. It’s just… Well, you see I’m having a little issue with Elle. And you promised me you’d always be honest with me about my relationship, Matthias.”

  “That I did, Your Highness. Did you have a particular question?”

  How do I show her there’s no reason to be afraid? Or help her understand that it’s all right to believe in a happy ending for us? But both of those questions sound too ridiculous to say out loud, even to Matthias. And before I have the chance to reword my predicament, the door to the bedroom opens, and Elle is standing there in her dressing gown.

  “Good morning,” I say, both disappointed and relieved that I no longer have the opportunity to consult with Matthias. “I hope you slept well.”

  She still looks a little groggy, but she smiles as she pulls her hair over her shoulder. “Very well, thanks. Good morning Matthias.”

  “Good morning, Doctor Parker.” He quickly straightens up the cart, picking up on my hint that we’ll continue our conversation at some other point. “Is there anything else I can do for either of you?”

  “Actually,” I say, “I was thinking Elle and I might start our dance lessons today. What do you think, Elle?”

  She blinks. “Already?”

  “The sooner we start, more practice we’ll have,” I say. “And I could use some practice myself. Matthias, if you could arrange for us to use the northeast ballroom this afternoon, that would be perfect.” Distracting ourselves with something productive and fun should keep our minds off of anything nefarious Stephan might be planning.

  “Consider it done, Your Highness,” Matthias says.

  I feel my spirits returning as he pushes the cart back out into the corridor. Yes, I think, we’ll show Stephan we aren’t afraid of him, that we’re planning to finish what we started. And I’ll show Elle that this life can be every bit the fairy tale she deserves.

  We spend the morning working. I continue to go through the tax documents—it gets easier the more familiar it becomes—and Elle begins reading through one of the history books I had Matthias bring for her. I can’t tell if she’s enjoying herself—the times I look up to watch her, she’s chewing on her bottom lip and twisting a bit of hair absently around her finger—but I hope she finds something at least mildly entertaining in the pages.

  Matthias brings us lunch around noon, and when Elle goes into the bedroom for a moment, he informs me that he has yet to discover anything about Stephan’s plans.

  “A few other members of the staff have said he seems touchier than usual,” Matthias says, “but if he’s planning anything, he’s being very discreet about it.”

  “Hm.” I don’t like this at all—but I try to tell myself I might still be getting worked up over nothing.

  “I’ll keep making inquiries,” Matthias says.

  “Thank you. I think that will be for the best.” What is that rat up to?

  After lunch though, as planned, I have something more important to occupy me—dancing with Elle.

  “Don’t you have dancing instructors here in Montovia?” she asks as I lead her to the northeast ballroom.

  “Of course,” I tell her. “But where is the fun in that? You’ll enjoy the lessons much more with me as your teacher, I assure you.”

  “We’re a little cocky, aren’t we?”

  “Don’t doubt me before you see me dance,” I tell her with a grin.

  “Oh, I’ve seen you dance,” she says. “A couple of years ago on the gossip sites there was some cell phone footage of you—”

  “I’d had a few drinks in that video,” I cut in. “And I wasn’t trying to dance well—in fact, I was mimicking someone who danced
poorly—”

  “So you were making fun of someone?”

  “Not at all,” I say, my mind scrambling. “I meant mimicking in a general sense. I wasn’t trying to insult anyone. I was merely being foolish.”

  “So the foolishness was intentional, got it.”

  “Precisely so.”

  She laughs. “You are the worst liar. And apparently also a very bad dancer—”

  “That video doesn’t even matter,” I say. “That was in a club, and the form of dancing we’ll be doing at the state dinner is quite different. And I am quite skilled at that form of dancing, I assure you.”

  “As long as you haven’t had too much to drink?” she says, still laughing.

  “Naturally. But I think that’s true for most people.”

  We’ve reached the door to the northeast ballroom, and I push it open and lead her inside, eager to show her what I mean. The northeast ballroom is the smallest of the palace’s eleven ballrooms—formal occasions require venues of different sizes, of course—but it’s still quite impressive. Two of the walls are lined entirely in windows, filling the room with warm natural light.

  “On the night of the state dinner, we’ll be in the Grand Ballroom,” I tell her. “But I thought it would be better to practice here. It’s a little more intimate.” I lead her deeper into the room. “We’ll also have a nine-piece string ensemble there to play music throughout the evening, but for the sake of ease, we’ll practice with prerecorded pieces.”

  The door to the small chamber housing the sound system is open, and Matthias was thoughtful enough to make sure a number of classical pieces were already queued up to play over the speakers.

  “Where would you like to begin?” I ask her. “The waltz, perhaps? Or the foxtrot? The tango is always fun, too, but we won’t have many occasions to dance that one at the state dinner.”

  She smiles and shrugs. “I guess the waltz would be fine.”

  “Then let’s begin.” I rearrange the musical queue to begin with several waltzes, and then I hold out my hand to her.

  She takes my fingers, but her smile seems uncertain as I lead her out into the center of the ballroom.