Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty Three

Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty Three
Alexander 

It had been a few months since the coronation, and life as king felt... different. Not more glamorous—though the Instagram likes certainly suggested so—but heavier. Denser.

As a prince, I had carried responsibilities: raffles for princes, speeches at charity dinners, a calendar full of "thank you for your service" handshakes. (Practically ceremonial.) My schedule as Crown Prince had been packed with investitures, state dinners, and the occasional Parliament visit for photo ops. I’d toured orphanages and clinics, opened local libraries, and even rattled off a speech or two about climate awareness.

But as king?

Everything was suddenly... real.

Every morning started early: reading through incoming state papers, approving legal documents, meeting with ambassadors and ministers. No longer was it about representing Sweden from a distance—I was Sweden, in a way I’d never truly understood.

My afternoons were filled with official duties—signing proclamations, reviewing treaties, attending National Defense Council sessions—or at least being briefed on them because the king is commander-in-chief, even in a constitutional monarchy.

Then there were the public engagements—charities, schools, commemorative services (I even laid a wreath at the National Memorial). Most of my duties were performative, but the weight of them?

That was inescapable.

Thank God, even when my former father and king had relocated to our country estate, my mother was still able to continue her social performances and charity events, which kept the crown’s delicate balance between royalty pretenses and the people’s needs.

Needless to say, Karl was my most valuable advisor and greatest support in a world that was rapidly changing.

Yet amid all that, there was still something that hadn’t changed: my beautiful Leo.

He was still unfiltered, impossibly normal, and deeply his own breath of fresh air in a life otherwise prescribed and structured. He greeted me in private moments like I was the boy I used to be—and loved me like I was the man I’d become.

I imagine how hard it was for him to see me always busy with one event or another. At first, we had spent every free day together, shared weekends, and many casual events, but as time went by and I began to take on the full role of a monarch, there was a lot I had to do on my own. More and more royal matters allowed only the presence of a king’s appointed committee—close family and government officials—which kept Leonardo away by law. 

I was enthusiastic about making a difference and being a good ruler, but it didn’t take long for the hours to bleed together and for my palace to feel less like home and more like an office building. I saw Leo only in stolen moments—late-night calls, blurry photos, once or twice at an official event where I had to pretend we were nothing more than allies in a new, progressive monarchy.

And he handled it with more grace than I ever could—until one particular call lit up my screen.

"So," Leo began without preamble, his voice rough like he’d just woken up or maybe just yelled at someone, "who do I need to blackmail, threaten, or bribe to get you a few days off?"

I laughed, flopping onto my couch. "You can bribe me, baby. I am the law."

"Dangerous words, Your Majesty. I might just take you up on it."

I heard him pacing on the other end. Then he stopped.

"I want to take you out."

"A date?" I raised an eyebrow. "You know I don’t need a substitute king to get a dinner reservation."

"Not just anywhere," he said, voice turning a little softer. "In Italy."

That made me pause. "Leo... I can’t just leave. I mean, I could, but not without preparing..."

"Then prepare."

Silence hung between us for a beat before he added, "I miss you. And if I have to watch one more event where some ambassador gets to touch you while I’m stuck watching it on the news, I’m going to start throwing hands."

I chuckled. "Baby, they’re ministers. Ambassadors. It’s polite to shake their hands."

"Not without me there, it isn’t. It’s not polite to me."

I was smiling now, unable to stop it. "Leo, they’re monarchy meetings. Swedish monarchy. You’re Italian."

"Exactly. That’s why if the mountain can’t come to Mahoma, we’ll need to bring Mahoma to the mountain."

“And I’m guessing I’m Mahoma here, right?” I shook my head with a grin.

“Yep! And I’m the strong, very hard, italian mountain…” He deepened his voice.

I bit back another laugh. "When were you thinking?"

"This Saturday. Come spend the weekend. Pack something nice but... prince-level casual. You know, mysterious and gorgeous."

"That sounds like you, not me."

"Then dress like you’re trying to impress me."

"I’m the King of Sweden."

"And I’m the man who hasn’t laid eyes on you in, like, forever, and you owe me your undivided attention in Rome."

I exhaled slowly. "Okay. Saturday it is. But only if you promise not to start any international incidents."

"No promises."

"Leo..."

"Fine. Minimal diplomatic damage. Maximum romance. Deal?"

"Deal."

The call with Leo had ended hours ago, but his words still echoed in my mind like a song I couldn’t stop humming.

“I want to take you out... on a date... in Italy.”

It should’ve made me smile. It should’ve had me floating. And it did—at first.

But now, standing in the royal office with my mother and Karl nearby, my nerves were a tangled mess.

What if he’s sick of the distance and wanna test our connection? Maybe he needs to find out if he still feels the same about me, and that’s why he wants me to impress him…

My head was taking a field trip to hell, and I was starting to go with it. 

Mom looked at me with concern. “Honey, what’s wrong? Are you not wanting to see Leonardo?”

“Of course I am… But I’m scared about the sudden meeting.” I confessed. “What if he’s trying to end it?” I muttered, fiddling with the cuff of my jacket. “What if he’s realized this doesn’t work?”

My mother raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously saying this right now?”

I ran a hand through my hair. “I know. It’s absurd. But I can’t help it. Maybe he thought that, with me being king, things would be much easier and we could be together in every situation. That I wouldn’t need clearance just to hold his hand in public. That things would be more... stable.”

“Alexander,” she said, calm and firm, “he wouldn’t ask you to come all the way to Rome, dress up, and spend the weekend with him if he wanted to break up. If he wanted to leave, he would’ve found a far less dramatic way.”

“I don’t know... He sounded so serious. And he’s barely seen me since the coronation. What if this is just him... trying to give us a beautiful goodbye?”

She reached over and took my hand. “You’re overthinking. That boy is crazy about you. Everyone can see it.”

Karl, who’d been silently standing nearby, cleared his throat. “Should I prepare for departure?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Just... me.”

Karl raised an eyebrow. “Just you?”

“I need to go alone. It’s a personal visit.”

He didn’t argue. Just nodded once. “Very well. I’ll have your things packed.”

My mother smiled gently. “I’ll hold things down while you’re away. Everything will be fine. Just breathe, Alex.”

I squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Mamma.”

But even as I smiled at her, my stomach twisted with nerves.

I was about to fly across Europe to see the man I loved.

And I had no idea if I’d come back heart-whole—or heartbroken.