Page 25 of Jonathon, After All

“Well, you certainly nailed it,” Jonathon agreed and broke one of the pastries in half, smiling at its crackled frosting and gooey, dark magenta filling.

He took a bite and was immediately reminded of trips to the library with Carla. She was one of Jonathon’s better nannies when he was a child before moving to Muriel’s. Carla would take him to the library almost daily because her sister worked there. Jonathon would be given a bag of snacks—usually a Capri Sun, a piece of string cheese, and a Pop Tart—and was told to stay out of trouble until it was time to go.

That was where Jonathon had discovered his love of reading, but it was also where he became enthralled with art and painting. He sat on the floor, silently munching on Pop Tarts as he studied the masters and dreamed of visiting Rome and the Louvre.

Jonathon had visited both places several times with Muriel, but he wished he could go back to the library and tell little Jonathon to keep his eyes on the art and focus on his education. And he would warn Jonathon to stay far, far away from dashing, strapping princes, if he should ever find himself in an Austrian castle.

“At least, there are snacks here,” Jonathon noted, once again grateful for the Ashbys and Milo’s hospitality. “Exile isn’t so bad when the people are really nice and they give you snacks.”

Eight

Just across Central Park, Leo was acutely aware of how time and distance had collapsed around him. He was trapped in the past, reliving every moment at Schönbühel while searching for clues about Jonathon’s life in the years that had followed. Jonathon had never been far from Leo’s thoughts, particularly when he was lonely or frustrated. And now, it appeared that Jonathon had been just as haunted and had spent the years in isolation as well.

No one saw or listened to the man within Leo, not even Sabine or Markus. Both had served him tirelessly and loyally—or so he had thought—but most of their efforts were in support of Leo, the Margrave. Often, at the expense of Leo, the man. And while he considered them his friends and most-trusted advisors, there were many things Leo would never discuss with them.

There were whole dimensions of his personality that Leo kept to himself because they were not consistent with what was expected of him as head of his family and the new Margrave of Hessen. But Leo had been able to shed all of those restraints and simply be himself whenever he was with Jonathon.

Instead of being dazzled by the castle, the title, and all the glamorous trappings, Jonathon saw the burden and was just as jaded as Leo with society life. Both had existed on the fringes and had their reputations rehabilitated by benevolent relatives, and they both understood the tenuousness of their positions. For Leo, he was a scandalous misstep away from being a mere mister again. Just as Jonathon understood that expectations for him were low and most people expected him to be just as shallow and selfish as his parents.

Leo lost that precious connection the moment he left Schönbühel. After nearly a decade of existing in such a solitary state, how could Leo leave Manhattan, knowing that the thing he had longed for most was so close? Jonathon and utter peace and contentment were within his grasp, if Leo could just pause everything and find a way to turn back time and undo his mistakes.

“I just got off the phone with Kramer,” Markus informed Leo heavily. “They’re concerned in Vienna and are demanding that you talk with Sabine.”

Leo smirked as he turned from the view of the park, daring Markus. “Tell them to come and make me. I have given them ten years of near-perfect service, so they can give me time now. All I am asking is for a few days to manage my personal affairs. If that is too much, they can find a new line of von Hessens and go make their lives miserable.”

They both knew that this time, Leo was holding all the cards. He had played nicely for so many years because you could only threaten to burn it all down once. After that, you were put on notice and plans would be made to replace you if you stepped out of line again. But Leo and his brothers had grown a lot in the decade since he became Margrave and the other three had no desire to live under the Foundation’s oppressive thumb.

Theo was the only one of the three who was still viable, and while his temperament would have matched the Foundation’s ideal for margrave, he was too generous and restless by nature to be a good fit. And too much of a playboy. When Theo wasn’t busy keeping an eye on Matteo and Elio for Leo, he was off using his charm and his connections to help someone else. It could be a farmer in France or koala bears in Australia because of some video he had seen on TikTok. But his heart was always in the right place and Theo left a trail of satisfied former lovers around the world. The Foundation’s board members would have had fits, trying to control Theo and keep track of him.

The Foundation would get nowhere with Matteo because he loathed the wealthy and thought the entire concept of an aristocracy was ridiculous. While Theo was the handsomest and most charming, Matteo was considered the “beautiful” one, with the classical beauty of a Greek or Italian marble. He cleaned up well and would behave whenever he was required to, but it was no secret within Austria that Matteo von Hessen was a socialist and vehement anti-royalist, who only played along and attended society events out of love for his eldest brother.

Elio was even more unsuitable, thankfully. Despite numerous requests to rein him in and send him to the Theresian Military Academy, Leo had chosen to let Elio run wild. Within reason, of course, because Leo lived in constant fear of Elio breaking his neck. The youngest von Hessen never went anywhere without a skateboard and treated castles and gardens like parkour courses. Elio rarely listened to Leo, so the chances of him playing nicely for the Foundation were virtually nil.

“They won’t last without me and I don’t need their support or money anymore,” Leo told Markus.

“True…” he said, his gaze tightening as he studied Leo. “They’ve reached out to Maximilian to see if he can reason with you.”

“Because that is all they can do,” Leo said with a wag of his finger. “All they can do is bluff and beg me to be biddable again. Tell them that I have not gone off the rails and that they can allow me a few days to handle my affairs, or they can fuck off forever,” he said sweetly.

Markus stared, unblinking for a moment, then bowed. “Very well, sir, but I wish you would hear Sabine out. I’d much rather she were the one to tell them to fuck off,” he bit out and left Leo.

“I do not doubt that,” Leo said under his breath with a wry chuckle.

Sabine was uniquely gifted when it came to telling the Foundation to back off and give Leo space, averting crisis and confrontation with elegant ease. She could find a way to spin the occasional faux pas or snarl on Leo’s part as a win for the House of Hessen—further proof that Leo was a margrave of the people, not a posh, pampered elitist.

Markus was correct in that she was vital to Leo’s survival as Margrave, but she had stripped him of something vital to him as a person. She had taken something he cherished so much more—a bright, warm sanctuary in his soul—when she took Jonathon from him.

Leo couldn’t begin to fathom how to forgive that until he had Jonathon back. He would never be able to look at Sabine, let alone forgive her, if Jonathon was lost forever. And he knew that he could not live like he had before, hiding and denying his heart while playing the role Sabine had expertly crafted for him.

He should have put his foot down at the very beginning, when matters between him and Jonathon had changed. But Leo had been too besotted and protective of his new secret obsession, too happy to allow Sabine to interfere and possibly spoil his fun. He had greedily kept Jonathon to himself, instead of owning up to his feelings and going on the defensive to protect their relationship.

Despite knowing better and promising Max that he’d follow his heart and never live a lie, Leo had allowed a fantasy and Jonathon to lead him astray while they were at Schönbühel. He had hidden the truth from Sabine and by doing that—Leo was realizing in hindsight—had signaled that the entire affair needed to be swept under the rug.

He had allowed Jonathon: barely twenty and glowing with youthful optimism, to take charge and set up boundaries when Leo should have been more vigilant. Leo should have stepped up the first morning instead of pouting and allowing Jonathon to coddle him.

As he had predicted, Leo had woken up riddled with regrets and in awe of his own stupidity, but he had also woken up hard and hungry for more. The sheets and his hands had smelled like sex and Jonathon, winding him up and leaving Leo with only those hands and a cold shower for relief.

He’d stomped into the dining room for breakfast and grumbled like a spoiled child about the rain, sniping at Sabine about an appointment with a tailor.

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