Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty Eight

Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty Eight
Leonardo

There were about a thousand things I expected from my life… But standing at a royal altar in Sweden, wearing enough gold to bankrupt a small country, and waiting to marry an actual king was not one of them.

Me. Leonardo Vittorio. Italy’s once-infamous playboy. I always thought I’d be running from commitment, not walking straight into it in front of half the world's press.

And yet… here I was. Fully sober. Not hallucinating. Not kidnapped. Just completely, stupidly, beautifully in love.

And walking toward me, in slow motion like a scene from the world’s most romantic hostage film, was Alexander the First—and my Last.

Mine. My Alexander.

My heart started pounding the second I saw him step into the garden. White suit. Tailored to sin. Golden sash. Hair slightly tousled from nerves and fingers that had clearly run through it one too many times. And those eyes. God, those eyes.

He looked like every vow I’d ever wanted to make and every reckless choice I’d never regretted.

I felt my breath catch. Actually catch.

Not in a poetic way. In a someone call a medic kind of way.

His gaze locked with mine—and in that instant, everything else disappeared. The string quartet. The hundreds of guests. The cameras. The crown. Gone.

There was only him.

He reached me slowly, each step regal and terrifying, like he knew the full weight of what we were doing—but still chose to do it with me.

I grinned. “Hey, Your Majesty.”

His lip twitched. “Hey, commoner.”

“Not for long.”

The officiant began to speak, but I couldn’t hear most of it. I was too busy trying not to cry. Or faint. Or both. I could feel Alex’s fingers trembling next to mine. I curled mine around his and squeezed.

He looked at me, full of awe and emotion, like he still couldn’t believe this was happening.

I wanted to say something stupid. Something irreverent. But for once, I held it in.

Then the officiant turned to me and said gently, “Leonardo Vittorio, would you like to begin?”

Oh. Shit. Right.

My vows.

I cleared my throat and smiled at my baby standing in front of me. In white and gold and perfection. About to become mine forever.

I took a breath.

“If anyone had told me that falling for a Swedish prince would involve this much international drama, near-death experiences, and media-induced PTSD…” I laughed softly. “I totally would’ve still done it.”

The crowd chuckled.

Alex smiled, eyes already glistening.

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening.

“The first time I saw you, you looked like a threat. I was right. You threatened everything I thought I knew. You wrecked my priorities. You challenged my thoughts. You destroyed my sleep schedule. And you ruined every other man for me with a single glare.”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“I didn’t expect to fall in love with someone so… impossible. Someone so amazing in every way I was not. So grounded and unreachable. So breathtakingly strong.”

My voice cracked slightly. I didn’t care.

“But then you looked at me, and I saw it. The real you. Not the prince. Not the headline. Just… you. Scared and brave and brilliant.”

A tear slid down his cheek.

And that was it for me.

“I love you, Alexander. In ways that don’t make sense to most people. In ways I never understood until you came into my life like a storm and stayed like sunlight.”

I reached for his hands.

“I promise to fight for you, even when you’re fighting yourself. I promise to annoy you, distract you, kiss you at the worst moments, and love you through every rule they try to throw at us. I promise to remind you, every single day, that you’re not alone anymore.”

I blinked, barely holding it together.

“And I promise… to be the man you can always reach for. No matter what. I may not have royal blood, but I’ll protect this crown like it’s my own. And love you like it’s the only thing I was ever born to do.”

The crowd nodded in acknowledgement through their tears.

Alex bit his lip and reached up, brushing away his own tear as his thumb grazed mine.

I smiled through the burn in my chest.

“I love you, baby. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Alexander

I looked at him with tears in my eyes. My heart bursting inside my chest from feelings and emotions that were still so foreign to me but yet so incredibly overpowering that all I could feel now was him.

I was about to pick up my neatly folded page from my pocket—perfectly tailored and almost rehearsed—but, instead, I just kept looking at him.

At the man who had been with me through every impossible moment. Every fall. Every rise. Every breath that felt too heavy to take alone.

And somehow… I found the words. My own heartfelt words.

“When I was young, I was taught how to speak… how to walk, how to carry myself like a prince. But no one taught me how to feel. No one told me it was safe to be human.”

My voice shook slightly, but I didn’t look away from him.

“I learned how to hide before I ever learned how to hope. How to please everyone else before I ever asked what I wanted.”

A pause. A breath.

“And then I met you.”

The world seemed to fall quiet.

“You didn’t just love me. You saw me. All of me. The broken parts. The angry ones. The ones I thought I had to bury just to be worthy of a crown. You made them feel… enough.”

He was crying now.

So was I.

“You taught me that I didn’t have to be perfect to be loved. That I didn’t have to be silent to be respected. That I could be exactly who I am, and that someone… you… would stay.”

A breath caught in my throat.

“You taught me to love myself, just by loving me first.”

I reached for his hand, lacing our fingers together.

“I love your wild heart. Your mind that never slows down. Your mouth that says everything it shouldn’t and somehow everything I need. I love your laughter, your stubbornness, your strength. And I love the way you’ve stood beside me—not just in private, but now, here. In the light.”

My voice dropped to a whisper.

“I could live without a crown. Without a title. Without any of this. But I could never live without you.”

I took another breath—steady this time.

“I promise to honor this love. To protect it. To fight for it. To never let the weight of the world come between what we’ve built together. And to make you proud—not as a king, but as your husband.”

The officiant spoke again, but I barely heard it.

Because Leo’s eyes were shining.

And they were only on me.

Leonardo

The officiant stepped forward.

The entire garden held its breath.

“By the authority vested in me by the Crown of Sweden and the Sovereign Council,” he said, voice ringing through the warm, jasmine-scented air, “and in the presence of this court, these guests, and the people of this nation…”

Leo squeezed my hand.

“…I now pronounce you—”

But we didn’t wait.

Because the moment our vows were spoken, we were already bound. With or without a title.

Leo leaned in, and I met him halfway, crashing into him like the only truth I’d ever known. Our lips met—soft, desperate, joyful—his hands in my hair, mine clutching the small of his back like I might disappear without him.

Somewhere, the crowd erupted.

Cheers. Laughter. A few sobs. (Probably my mother.)

I heard Dante yell something wildly inappropriate. I heard Karl cough loudly and look away. I heard the soft sound of Queen Helena whispering, “He did it.”

But all I saw was him.

His arms around me.

His smile against my mouth.

His love, pouring into me in front of the entire world, as if we’d always been meant to get here.

And I knew then—I was his, and he was mine.