Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty Three

Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty Three

Leonardo

If anyone ever tells you that watching your secret royal boyfriend walk out of a palace hand-in-hand with you, in front of hundreds of strangers chanting your names… is a normal experience, punch them.

My heart was doing gymnastics. My knees felt like overcooked spaghetti.

We had survived Edvard the Terrible. Barely. We’d stood in front of a man who could’ve had us banished—or worse—and told him we were going public. And then the universe decided to throw in an actual miracle.

The cheers. The signs. The flags.
I hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t expected that.

Alex was trembling next to me, but not from fear. Something had cracked open in him. I could feel it in his fingers. A kind of freedom blooming.

And me? I was just trying to process the fact that both Sweden and Italy were blowing up like a gender-reveal party gone wrong.

My dad had messaged me the second Karl pulled open those curtains.

You broke the internet. Again. Your mother can’t get through her inbox. People are camping outside the presidential house with banners. I don’t know whether to thank you or call in the army. Love you.

So… yeah.
No pressure or anything.

The moment we stepped outside, the cameras clicked like a thousand insects. The crowd surged, roaring louder at the sight of our joined hands.

We kissed.

Nothing wild. Nothing graphic. Just a soft, steady kiss that said: Yes, it’s us. It’s always been us.

I felt Alex inhale.
Then he turned to the crowd.

The nerves were there—obviously—but the way he straightened, the way he squeezed my hand once before letting go… that was my prince.

He stepped forward.

And I—madly, stupidly, proudly—let him.

He was going to speak first.
He should speak first.

His people were waiting.

Alex stood tall. Still dressed in his palace suit, hair pushed back just enough to look royal, but eyes wide and full of something raw. Human. Real. He didn’t raise his hands. Didn’t gesture dramatically. He just stepped to the front of the steps, toward the crowd… and spoke.

“Good afternoon,” he said. The crowd went still.

“I… I wasn’t sure what to expect when I walked out here. Honestly, I thought I’d be met with silence. Or worse. But instead—” He glanced back at me. I gave him a small nod. “Instead, I see your signs. Your voices. Your love. And I… I don’t know how to thank you for that.”

There was a ripple of applause. A few cheers. But no one interrupted. They were listening.

Alex took a breath.

“I was born into a world where duty came before everything. Before happiness. Before love. Before… truth.” He looked down briefly. When he lifted his gaze again, he was stronger. “For centuries, monarchs have chosen political alliances over personal freedom. They’ve hidden their hearts for the sake of the crown. And I—I nearly did the same.”

Another pause. Another breath.

“But today… I don’t want to hide anymore.” The crowd stirred again, louder now. “I want to serve this country with honesty. With dignity. And yes—by the side of someone I love. Not because of obligation or legacy. But because… it’s right.”

He turned slightly, hand reaching back. Without hesitation, I stepped forward and took it. A gasp rolled through the crowd.

“This is Leonardo,” Alex said. “You’ve heard rumors. You’ve seen headlines. But I want to tell you the truth. He’s not just someone I love. He’s someone I trust. Someone who stood by me when I had nothing left. Someone who never asked me to choose between love and duty—because he believed I could have both.”

Tears. In his eyes. In mine.

“He believed we could.” Another pause. “And now… so do I.”

The cheering started slowly. A clap here. A voice there. Then it swelled—wave after wave of noise and light and energy.

But I wasn’t looking at them. I was looking at him. My prince. My love. My impossible, brave, glorious Alex.

Then I did the most reckless thing I could’ve done: I stepped up beside him… and turned to the crowd.

“My turn?”

They laughed. Cheered louder.

Alex gave me a look that said be careful, and I love you, and God help us, all in one blink.

“Hi,” I said, casually waving. “I’m the Italian.”
Laughter.

“I just want to say one thing. I didn’t plan to speak today. I wasn’t even sure I’d be allowed in the building this morning, but here we are.” More laughter. Cameras zoomed in.

“I know some of you might be confused. Some of you might be angry. But I also know this: love isn’t treason. And your prince?” I looked at him again, unable to help the smile. “He loves you. He chose you every day—even when it nearly broke him.”

The crowd fell quiet.

“So now… I’m asking you to choose him back. Just as he is. Just as I do.”

We stood there, hand in hand, as the people of Sweden answered in cheers, flags waving, voices rising like thunder.

And just like that—
We weren’t a secret anymore.
We were real.



We stepped back inside once the applause began to fade, slipping into a quieter corridor off the main entrance. The walls muffled the roar outside, but my heart was still thundering.

Alex shut the door behind us and leaned against it, chest rising and falling like he’d just finished a marathon. His eyes met mine, bright and wet and shining like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

“That really just happened, didn’t it?” he whispered.

I walked toward him and kissed him. A long, slow, grounding kiss. No pressure. No panic. Just the two of us again.

“It did,” I murmured against his lips. “We didn’t get struck by lightning or hauled off by royal guards, so I think that counts as a win.”

He chuckled—soft, relieved. Then his hands curled behind my neck.

“Do you want to stay?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

God, yes. I wanted nothing more than to stay, to sleep tangled in silk sheets with him and wake up to that stupid pretty face every morning. But…

“I do,” I said, forehead resting against his. “But I also like being alive. And I’m pretty sure your not-father would have me poisoned by breakfast if I so much as breathe too loudly.”

Alex groaned and half-laughed. “True.”

“And besides,” I added, “I have another battlefield waiting—my mom’s campaign. Still a war to win there.”

His smile dipped, but only for a second. “You’re right.”

I brushed his cheek with my thumb. “Hey, here’s an idea… Why don’t you come with me this time?”

He blinked. “To Italy?”

“To Rome. To bed. To wherever you want. Plus, there’s another crowd waiting there… What do you say, one country at a time, baby?”

His mouth tilted into that royal, heart-melting smirk. “You’re such a menace.”

“I learned from the best.”

We kissed again—softer this time. Slower. Like sealing something sacred.

Outside, the crowds were still singing. Inside, I was already planning my return.

And so was he.