Chapter 12 #10
Buckingham Palace declined all comment and asked the media to respect the privacy of those involved.
The name “Leo Troy Austin” hit the online news the same evening, and his entire tragic story made the morning headlines—the fallen noble who’d been treated unfairly by ignorant parents.
He had picked himself up, shaken off the dust and become stronger and better for it, had befriended the Prince without divulging the secret of his noble heritage.
Beautiful. A real-life fairy tale. An inspiration.
The next few days brought interviews with people from Leo’s past and current life—one with his old friend Kylie, who’d given Leo odd little jobs at her parents’ bar so he could keep above water; one with the Leader of the Opposition, who highlighted Leo’s role in resolving the kidnapping of his only child; one with an anonymous girl who lived on the streets and called Leo a mentor for kids like her.
Eventually, there was an interview with Leo himself, in which he talked freely about how even a warm meal or a dry place to sleep could feel like luxury.
He also countered his parents’ public claim that he’d brought it on himself with a little shrug and a sad smile.
“If you believe that homosexuality is something like a disease that I caught, or that a child should lie to their parents rather than risk challenging their preconceived notions… Well. I strongly disagree with that.”
Some guy on Facebook made a post that said:
Leo eh? pretty sure we met when u were called kev and sucked my dick for money.
The bloke was quickly forced to admit that he had no proof, and yeah, maybe that Kev person had looked a bit different, true. It was dismissed as an attention-seeking twat trying to stir up shit.
There were also pictures, a whole flood of them.
They showed Leo slotting in with Joshua’s circle of friends—buying supplies for the World Cup final, or a trip to the zoo, a picnic on Primrose Hill that looked like a triple date in unclear constellations (with the exception of Tristan and his Victoria’s Secret model).
Then again, things turned rather less ambiguous when supermodel Mo attended a gallery opening with the as-of-yet-unidentified sixth member of the picnic group.
In all honesty, that particular mystery was rather less fascinating than the speculation about Prince Joshua’s love life because could it be?
Prince Joshua and Leo Austin? A boy who’d fallen from grace and gone through hell, only to fall in love with a prince.
Wouldn’t it just complete the fairy tale?
Neither Buckingham Palace nor Leo himself deigned to comment.
* * *
It was early, but not so early that Millennium Bridge was devoid of tourists and their cameras.
Leo and Joshua had been up for hours already, first to go through the final stage of the plan, then to stroll through London on a tiny tour of what Leo had cleverly titled “The City as I See It” with Zach trailing behind at a polite distance.
Now they were pressed close together on the bridge, and Leo was the one to link their arms. He turned his head to take in Joshua’s face—the cut of his nose and the generous bow of his lips, a hint of stubble dusting his chin, grey daylight tangling in his irises.
When Joshua caught Leo looking, he began to smile and angled closer, just enough for Leo to notice. The sides of their feet were touching.
“Have you ever wondered”—Joshua’s voice was as slow as the water crawling by below—“about all those times we must have missed each other? First Eton, then those years we were both here in London.”
Over Joshua’s shoulder, Leo caught a camera pointed at them. He deliberately ignored it and trusted Zach to ensure that no one approached them without permission. “We didn’t miss each other,” Leo said, grinning back. “That was all you, not me. First boy boner, remember?”
“I’m serious, though.” Joshua possessed the astonishing ability to smile through a pout. He was possibly magic; Leo hadn’t ruled it out yet.
Chuckling, he bumped their hips together. “I know, babe. But if I think about it too much, I’ll probably start spouting nonsense about fate and destiny. And no one wants that.”
Joshua laughed softly. He shoved his hair back with one hand, an insistent breeze blowing curls into his eyes, and Leo reached up to tuck a strand behind Joshua’s left ear. He let the touch linger while Joshua watched him with warm eyes that turned thoughtful.
“Listen,” Joshua said, after a second of them just studying each other. “I’ve been thinking.”
Leo smirked at him. “You realise you have people who are paid to do that for you, Princeling?”
“Fuck off,” Joshua told him, and continued without missing a beat. “I want to make a deal.”
“A deal?”
“I understand that you don’t want to feel like…
” A pause followed while Joshua appeared to ponder his next words.
In all honesty, Leo loved that—the way Joshua took the time to consider things carefully, didn’t rush into them head first. Although Leo himself and the way they’d fallen into each other might have been the exception to that rule.
When it looked as though Joshua might have lost his courage, Leo bumped their feet together. “I’m waiting.”
“Right.” Joshua nodded. “So, I understand that you don’t want to feel like you’re taking advantage. Like, by accepting things from me, or letting me treat you. I get that. But.” He inhaled. “I don’t actually need you to prove anything because I already know. And you do, too.”