Chapter 80

“His Highness, the Third Prince.”

The drawing room door swung open, and Leon stepped onto the navy carpet. His gait carried a palpable tension, yet he maintained a dignified air. The Queen sat in a high-backed chair, her expression fixed in solemn scrutiny as he approached.

“Leonhart.”

Her voice remained frigid, yet Leon felt an inexplicable relief wash over him simply because she had omitted the rest of his formal title. She lacked the incandescent fury she had displayed during their last encounter. Hoping to temper the atmosphere, Leon offered her an affectionate, disarming smile.

“Mother, it has been a long time. You are even more radiant than you were last year.”

He anticipated at least a perfunctory smile, but the Queen merely pierced him with a sharper, colder glare.

“Your face is positively blooming. Is this the result of securing an engagement while keeping even your mother in the dark?”

Her voice was laced with daggers. While the situation lacked the severity of injuring a foreign noble’s heir at the border, the public announcement of an engagement without royal approval or adherence to established protocols constituted a grave offense. Leon had calculated the weight of this condemnation before he ever set his machinations into motion. He kept his smile anchored to his lips and replied with an airy grace.

“Indeed. The power of love is a formidable force. By the time I realized I had been swept into the storm, I found myself adrift in the eye of the typhoon.”

“Ha. You speak with such glib detachment, as if the circumstances were beyond your control. Was this not precisely your intent? You orchestrated the presence of reporters, then declared the engagement in court to ensure the matter remained irrevocable.”

“Haha. Surely you cannot believe me to be such a meticulous strategist.”

“Do not feign innocence. You leveraged this to coerce the royal family, and you still have the audacity to laugh?”

Pressure on the royal family.

The phrasing was harsh, but it was accurate. Given the wide circulation of his declaration, any attempt by the Queen to overturn the engagement would place the very foundations of royal authority in a precarious position. This was precisely why he had disseminated Elwin’s story long before arriving at the capital. With public sympathy now firmly anchored to Elwin, the royal family found themselves with little room to maneuver. His series of actions had served Elwin’s interests, but they had also been a tactical preparation for this very negotiation.

“I ask you again, Leonhart. What did I stipulate when I granted you your freedom?”

“You told me that in the wider world, I should encounter diverse people and cultivate the qualities that would eventually serve the royal house…”

“I explicitly forbade you from utilizing your status to fulfill private desires!”

As Leon attempted to obfuscate the issue with grandiloquent musings, the Queen silenced him with a single, brutal stroke. Her voice carried a sharpness that made the attendants in the corridor flinch, but Leon assumed an expression of wounded innocence.

“Mother, from the moment I departed Savar until my arrival in the capital, I never once invoked royal authority for personal ends. Had I exerted my power at the outset in Ravenwell, the incidents that filled the newspapers would never have occurred.”

Leon had harbored suspicions toward Dwight from their first meeting. Upon arriving in Ravenwell, he had listened nightly to the commotions emerging from Dwight and Isaac’s chambers, patrolling the corridors whenever he sensed something amiss, yet he had ultimately failed to unearth the truth. Only after Dwight maimed the count’s estate employees, absconded with the seal, and fled did Leon regret his failure to investigate with the full weight of his royal authority. Intervention in a provincial inheritance dispute was improper for a member of the royal house, but the situation had transformed once that dispute culminated in swordplay before a prince and the theft of a royal-recognized seal. Had he not belatedly weaponized the press to contain the situation, the Queen would likely be thundering at him now, demanding to know why he allowed an incident that threatened the nobility’s discipline to unfold before his very eyes.

“…You claim you refrained from using your power, yet I hear the tip-off for the recent large-scale investigation into munitions corruption originated from Ravenwell. Was that not your doing?”

The Queen paused at his reasoned defense, her gaze sharpening as a thought struck her. Leon felt a prick of apprehension, but he answered with unabashed composure.

“That matter was formally submitted to the upper military authorities as an anonymous tip, making it difficult to claim I invoked royal power. Moreover, surely you would not have wished for me to ignore such systemic corruption once it came to light, Mother?”

In truth, his report on the Finch family’s malfeasance had been fueled by lingering resentment toward Frederick Finch, who had tormented Elwin and, distastefully, had once dared to propose to him. It was a private vendetta, but he saw no reason to burden the Queen with such trivial details. Despite her reprimand, the Queen clearly harbored secret satisfaction that the deep-seated corruption had been excised through his intervention. Identifying this subtle opening in her heart, Leon pressed his advantage.

“I have always lived in accordance with your will, Mother. You have consistently expressed a desire for me to find a suitable partner and marry. I have found such a person and presented him to you. Is this not a cause for celebration rather than indignation?”

The Queen clicked her tongue, her disbelief plain. “A suitable partner. You know as well as I that you are not in a position to determine such a thing unilaterally.”

“But Your Majesty knows the truth just as well. I am not a man who would meekly accept a marriage imposed by the royal family, especially to a stranger.”

“You never yield an inch. Very well. You claim to have chosen your own partner to avoid a loveless union? This omega you champion must be someone you encountered in Ravenwell. What can you possibly know of a person you have known for barely a month?”

“It seems I inherited your ability to recognize a destined partner at a glance, Mother. And am I not also your son in the way I refuse to stop at nothing once my heart is set?”

This was a narrative from before Leon’s birth. The Queen’s original political engagement had not been to the late Prince Consort, but to the heir of the grand ducal house that commanded the greatest influence at the time. Before the betrothal could be formalized, however, it was revealed that the house had attempted to cede a profitable enterprise to a foreign power, resulting in the annulment of the union. She had subsequently married the late Prince Consort, Leon’s father, who emerged from a fallen ducal house. It remained an open secret that the Queen herself had operated from the shadows to expose the grand ducal corruption. The public pretext was the eradication of corrupt noble influence, but those in the know understood that the Queen had acted because she had fallen for the late Prince Consort at first sight during a ball. As Leon suggested, a relentless passion for one’s destined partner was a hereditary trait. At this poignant reminder, the Queen’s gaze flickered, though she soon regained her composure and resumed her lecture in a measured tone.

“Do you imagine this is the appropriate setting to invoke your father? Your father hailed from a lineage that had stood by the royal house for generations. Even without a face-to-face meeting, I knew him well from our youth, both personally and as a member of the royal circle.”

“…”

“But what do I truly know of this omega you have brought? Does it make sense that my first notice of this union should be via tabloid articles, with no knowledge of his character, his bearing, or whether he possesses the education and dignity required to bear the heavy mantle of a Prince Consort?”

“On that score, I offer my sincerest apology.”

As Leon bowed his head in a clean admission of guilt, the Queen pressed a hand to her temple, sighing as a migraine threatened to take hold. She had once been consumed by the same fervor of love, unafraid to defy the world, and she could not help but sympathize with Leon’s position. Yet the situation left her caught between maternal worry and the demands of her crown. Just as she began to offer a more measured, persuasive argument, Leon, who had remained uncharacteristically docile, let out a sharp, sudden laugh. The Queen widened her eyes in disbelief, and Leon hurriedly raised his hands to appease her, struggling to smooth his expression.

“Ah, my apologies, Your Majesty. I meant no disrespect. It is simply that your concerns feel so ill-suited to him. Were you perhaps not informed that he fainted in court today? He discovered my status for the first time there and was quite overwhelmed.”

The thought of Elwin feigning a faint—or even having the capacity to do so—made Leon’s imagination run wild, and he nearly succumbed to laughter again at the absurdity. He realized, however, that further levity would likely cost him his chance at a resolution. He drew a steadying breath, discarding his usual mask for a look of profound sincerity.

“I understand precisely which aspects trouble you, Your Majesty. Upon arriving in Ravenwell, I, too, assumed he was merely an omega attempting to survive using the very methods you describe. To be perfectly honest, I was burdened with my own prejudices.”