And I take my time. Cause what’s pleasure without a little pain?
9
RANGI
Ipause at the entrance to the small morning room, momentarily taken aback by the informal tableau before me. The royal family—minus the Queen who apparently takes breakfast in her private quarters these days—lounges around a long table laden with food, looking remarkably... normal.
Princess Charlotte perches on her chair with one leg tucked beneath her, gesturing animatedly as she tells some story that has her husband Roy chuckling into his coffee. Leo sits across from them, dressed in a simple shirt that brings out the amber flecks in his dark eyes, his hair still slightly damp from a morning shower. The formal prince from yesterday’s ceremony is nowhere to be seen.
When he spots me hovering in the doorway, his expression shifts—pleasure, and something like nervousness flashing across his features before settling into a casual smile.
“Captain,” he greets, using my title even as his eyes convey a more intimate recognition. “Join us for breakfast?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” I move into the room, nodding respectfully to the others. “Princess Charlotte. Mr. Knight.”
“It’s Lottie and Roy in here,” Charlotte corrects, waving toward an empty chair beside Leo. “We leave the titles at the door during family meals.”
Family meals.The phrase catches me off guard, warming something in my chest even as I remind myself not to read too much into it. One night together doesn’t make me family.
I slide into the seat beside Leo, close enough that our knees brush beneath the table. He doesn’t pull away.
“Sleep well?” he asks, passing me a platter of fresh fruit.
“Reasonably.” I select a few pieces, careful to keep my tone neutral despite the heat simmering under my skin. “And you?”
A flush creeps up his neck. “Fine,” he says, a little too quickly.
Across the table, Charlotte’s gaze bounces between us, her smile widening. “Leo never sleeps well during negotiations,” she offers, butter knife waving in the air. “Too busy planning strategies and rehearsing speeches in his head.”
“I donotrehearse speeches,” Leo protests, though his lips twitch with humour.
“Oh please.” Charlotte rolls her eyes. “You’ve been practicing arguments in your sleep since we were children. I used to spy on you talking to your stuffed animals about taxation policies.”
Roy’s deep laugh joins Charlotte’s giggle as Leo groans, dropping his head in mock despair.
“This is why I never invite you to breakfast,” he tells his sister, but there’s no heat in it.
I bite back a smile, charmed by this glimpse into their relationship—so different from the formal, reserved interactions I’ve witnessed in public. Leo’s shoulders appear lighter here, his smiles coming more easily, and I find myself falling a little harder for this version of him.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him, allowing my leg to press more firmly against his under the table. “Your secret nerdiness is safe with me.”
He glances at me with warm humour. “Why don’t I believe you?”
I can’t help but tease him a little. “Perhaps because I owe you for telling our entire squad about the mountain lion?”
“If it helps, his teddy was his financial advisor,” Charlotte adds helpfully.
I snort. “It does.”
“You know, Big Bear was actually quite fiscally conservative,” Leo deadpans. “We disagreed often.”
I laugh, delighted by this playful side of him. “I’ll have to meet Mr. Big someday. Compare notes.”
Leo’s eyes meet mine, holding for a beat too long. “Perhaps you will.”
The moment stretches between us, full of possibilities.
“Pass the coffee?” Roy’s request breaks the tension, though I notice his perceptive gaze taking in our interaction.
