Page 121 of Wear It Like a Crown

“I’m not stupid enough to tell them. Doesn’t mean we don’t clash over a lot of other things.”

“Well. Personally, Iwasstupid enough to tell them,” he said.

A few seconds passed, then she took in a sharp breath and bit her lip, a new kind of understanding clear in her eyes.

From there on, it was easy. Well,easier; a couple of hours couldn’t bridge ten years spent apart. But by the time they left the café, the gap had shrunk to something that Leo hoped would disappear entirely ifthey had the will and the patience to work on it. He certainly intended to try.

They were walking close enough for their hands to brush on occasion when Charlotte said, “I’ll talk to Rosie, okay? She’ll probably want to see you.”

“I’d really like that.” He glanced down to fumble his sunglasses out of his pocket, and when he looked back up he found her smiling at something over his shoulder.

“What is it?” He turned around.

Balloons. A multitude of vibrant balloons was floating above a vendor’s head—the British flag and Mickey Mouse, stars and a character fromToy Story. Amongst all that: a fish that gleamed in the colours of the rainbow.

“Do you remember?” Charlotte asked, a little wistful, and Leo hooked their pinkies together.

“How could I ever forget? I probably still know most of the story by heart.” He pinched his voice low. “‘The Rainbow Fish shared his scales left and right. And the more he gave away, the more delighted he became.’ Classic, if somewhat finger-wagging. Possibly a better influence than our parents ever were, mind.”

She snorted and leaned into his side. “I really did miss you.” The words came out soft and genuine. In reply, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her to him.

“Want me to buy you a rainbow fish balloon?” he asked.

With a small giggle, she shook her head. “I’m not five, you know.”

“You’ll always be my little sister, though. Jesus, next thing you’ll tell me is that you’re old enough to have sex, which,no. Not now, and not when you’re thirty, or fifty.”

Her laugh was throaty, true. Then it faded, her gaze finding his, scanning his face. When she spoke, there was a clear note of hesitance to it. “Hey, is he… He’s good to you? The Prince?”

“He’s just Joshua, really.” Leo felt his smile brighten just at the mention. “And he’s—God, Charlie. He’s the best.”

She gave a nod, and the initial, shocked disbelief at learning about Joshua had melted into something that was still a little incredulous, yettinged with amusement becauseonly you, Leo, seriously.“He does seem quite lovely.” She shrugged. “I mean, like, from the telly and all.”

“He’s lovelier in person,” Leo told her. “Just wait until you meet him.”

Her smile was sudden, and wait—had she wondered whether this was a one-time thing? No. Hell no. If Leo had any say in this, they’d have regular brother-sister time from now on. He could ramble about his boyfriend, she could ramble about her girlfriend, and it would be brilliant all-round.

“I’d love to meet him,” she said.

“You will.” Tightening the arm around her shoulders, he kissed her cheek, then pulled back with a grin. “But it’ll cost you at least three coffee dates with your big brother first, and a lecture on how you always need to stay true to yourself and follow your heart and some such. I feel like imparting some hard-won wisdom.”

“Wisdom,” she repeated, deadpan. “You.”

“Careful, Munchkin. I still know where all your ticklish spots are.”

“Careful, Fun Size. I’ve learned all the spots that make a bloke cry with pain.”

He chose not to ask why and how she’d learned that. Instead, he widened his grin. “Challenge accepted. What do you say, same place and time next week? Although I guess we might speak before. Depending on how soon the story breaks.”

“Oh, that should be fun,” she said. “Can’t wait.”

To his surprise, it sounded genuine. Well, she didn’t know that the media wouldn’t tell the entire story and a risk of exposure loomed beyond what they intended to reveal.

“Fun? Says you,” he told her. “You know this could affect you girls as well, right?”

“We’re old enough. Also, I think we might all benefit if our parents are taken down a peg. Maybe,”—she cocked an ironic brow, but there was a hint of hope to her tone—“it’ll open their eyes. You never know.”

Leo had wished for understanding parents once; he wasn’t going to repeat that mistake. He also wasn’t going to infect Charlotte with his cynicism, so he settled for a smile and kept his arm around her shoulders, his steps in time with hers.