Royal Icing

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

LEO

“Okay, crank the burner.” Leo stepped back from the stove and wiped his hands on a rag.

Christmas music played in the background as volunteers bustled around the community kitchen, already preparing for the evening meal ahead. The scent of chopped onion made his eyes water, but even uncooked bulb vegetables were better than another stuffy dinner at the castle with his parents.

Flames burst forth from the newly installed burner. He sniffed, but there was no hint of sulfur in the air. Another town catastrophe saved by YouTube.

“You did it again.” Gus, a grizzled bear of a man and the soup kitchen’s head chef, wrapped him in a tight hug. “Thank you. Truly. This is plenty of time for me to make tonight’s minestrone.”

“Happy to help. Anything else going on?” Leo cast a glance over the kitchen and the dining area beyond.

It had certainly seen better days. While the staff had attempted to bring some holiday cheer to the space with lights and a fake tree, the tables were scrubby, the chairs were mismatched and wobbly, and the equipment was on its last legs.

With any luck, that would all change by the end of next year.

“Nothing catastrophic,” Gus said.

A light bulb over his head popped, leaving part of the kitchen in darkness. He sighed.

“I’ll get the ladder,” Leo called out.

It was always something.

Minutes later, he stowed the ladder in the closet and stepped out into the serving room. Someone shoved the creaky door open, bringing a burst of frigid air into the room. He really needed to grease those hinges.

Kat, a local architect, bustled in with a smile. “Your Highness.” She curtsied and banged into one of the wooden chairs.

He grimaced. “It’s Leo.”

She faltered, and a pink tinge crept into her cheeks. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” It was an empty, outdated title. “Are you finished already?” he asked.

“Oh, yes.” Kat looked like she was about to curtsy again, but instead she pulled a long tube from her messenger bag. “I stayed up all night working on these. I love your ideas for the lot. This would be life-changing for our community.”

The plans unfurled, covering one of the dining tables in a dream. A future for his country that he could be proud of. His love letter to the hardworking citizens of Lynoria.

“I did add some things. I couldn’t help myself.

This is just a rough sketch until we get the library’s input, but it deserves to be the biggest library in the kingdom.

There’s also space for a new playground and duck pond.

” She pointed to a green space. “An outdoor amphitheater for music or plays. I thought it would bring some peace to the women and children staying at the shelter.”

Leo pored over the plans. He wasn’t an architect, but he could practically see it in front of him.

“And you were able to figure out space for a store? Storage for donations?” He squinted at the depiction of the new shelter, which was sorely needed as the shelters in the city were in a shameful state of disrepair.

“Yes, though I’d really like to chat with the other shelters in the city before finalizing any plans, Your High—Leo,” she corrected herself with a cringe.

He smiled. “These are excellent. Thank you, Kat.”

The flush was back in her cheeks. People were frequently nervous in his presence.

“I understand you have some architects on staff,” she said in a low voice, “but if your bid is approved, I’d be honored to head up this project.”

“You have my word.” Leo’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket.

Great. An SOS from his mother. Had John royally messed something up again, or had another incredibly low-stakes problem arisen during the planning for the kingdom’s 500th anniversary party?

If he didn’t return to the castle now, she would send a member of the royal guard to drag him home. And that was the last thing he needed.

“I have to go. Thank you for these. I look forward to working together.”

“Oh, thank—” Kat’s voice was cut off by the door swinging closed behind him.

When he arrived at the drawing room, the rest of his family was already there. A gold-trimmed table runner had appeared, and garland adorned the mantel even though Christmas wasn’t for another four weeks. The staff must have decorated today.

John languished in an armchair by the fire, whiskey glass dangling from one hand as he gazed at the flames. Leo squinted. Was he imagining things, or did John have a black eye?

Ruby sat across from him, feet tucked underneath her and scrolling on the phone she never seemed to put down. Leo was about to scold her when his mother’s voice interrupted.

“There you are,” Queen Eleanor said. Her voice was sharp, like he had personally inconvenienced all of them. She started to say something else but stopped. “What are you wearing? Did anyone see you?”

Leo raised an eyebrow and glanced down. He had on jeans and steel-toed boots. It wasn’t like he had wandered in sporting sequined nipple pasties and assless chaps.

She threw her hands up like he was a hopeless cause. And maybe he was. “Never mind. We have a problem.”

“What is it this time? The kingdom is entirely out of cloth napkins? There’s an international shortage of holly and mistletoe?” He plucked a snifter from the bar cart and poured a finger of bourbon.

“Your brother has had an affair with the royal baker.”

“Oh.” For once, a scandal worthy of an SOS.

Ruby looked up from her phone. “Dude,” she said with a glance at John.

“Don’t say ‘dude,’” their mother snapped.

“It wasn’t my fault.” John threw a hand up. “She came on to me.”

Ruby leaned forward. “I’m sorry—isn’t the royal baker married?”

“Yes,” John muttered. He touched his swollen eye.

“Silence.” His mother’s voice cut through the din like a siren.

“The problem has been dealt with. The royal baker has found a lovely new position in Switzerland and will not be returning to Lynoria. A nondisclosure agreement was signed this afternoon, and they have been compensated for their silence.”

Leo stifled a grunt. Typical. They seemed to have no end of money for bribes, but apparently they couldn’t scrounge up anything but the bare minimum for improvements in the kingdom.

The queen strode over to the fire and stared at it. “Do you have anything to add, Beatrice?”

Beatrice, the royal publicist, perched at a table under a portrait of King Frederick. The real king hadn’t looked up from his newspaper once since Leo had entered.

“Well, in the unlikely event that this does leak, we’ll need to present a united front,” Beatrice said hurriedly.

There was nothing on this earth she was more afraid of than Queen Eleanor.

The white-knuckle grip on her clipboard suggested she was waiting for a bomb to go off.

“The only comment is ‘no comment.’ It wouldn’t hurt to do some proactive public outreach.

Some warm fuzzies. Leo, what have you been up to? ”

He shook his head sharply. There was no way in hell they were going to use his public outreach for good press. What he did for his community was none of their business.

“Okay.” Beatrice pivoted. “Princess? The people love you. There’s a ribbon-cutting this week at the new ski apparel store.”

Ruby looked up from her phone. “No, that’s boring. I’ll read a book to the children at the library on Thursday after my harp lesson.”

Leo smiled. Roo might be a tech zombie and angsty teen, but she was a good kid.

“Uh, great.” Beatrice shuffled some papers and made a note. “So that leaves us with one more problem.”

“Which is?” The queen shot her a look that would stop a rampaging bull in its tracks.

“No royal baker for the ball. I know you had high expectations for the dessert this year, Your Majesty.”

The queen muttered something under her breath.

Ruby gasped and straightened up. “Oh, Mom. You remember that place that I told you about in New York? With the espresso croissant that changed my life? Please, can we hire them?”

The queen sighed. “A New York bakery? On this short of notice? I don’t know, sweetheart.”

“Please? No offense to Sarah, but they really were the best pastries I’ve ever had. And they’re very prestigious. Look at their Instagram.” The princess handed over her phone.

Eleanor scrolled for a while, seeming to be in deep thought. After a minute, she handed it back to Ruby. “Beatrice, can you have someone reach out to this bakery? The princess will send you the details.”

“Thank you, Mama.” Ruby threw herself on the queen for a quick hug. His mother wore a smile when she pulled back.

“Shouldn’t we be hiring a local bakery to handle the dessert?” Leo asked. “There must be sixty in Lynoria.”

“Maybe, but do they have espresso croissants? No,” Ruby said with a look that was startlingly similar to their mother. “Besides, look at them.” She showed him a short video of complicated-looking fruit tarts sliding into a display case.

“Social media is not real life,” he said flatly. They had way more important things to worry about than a damn dessert.