The King and the Kindergarten Teacher

by Shanae Johnson

  She wanted to love Leo. She wanted to be loved by Leo. She wanted to be Leo’s love, and him hers.

  “Smells lovely.” Mrs. Dolevitt came through the kitchen doors that lead to the dining area.

  Esme craned her neck, but she couldn’t see anything. She did hear the clinking of glasses and the low murmur of conversation. There was a belly laugh, but she didn’t think it was Leo’s. He had a light chuckle that was more of a delighted smile with a gush of breath than anything.

  “How are things going at the state dinner?” Esme asked.

  “Very well. Mainly because the parents are all relaxed due to all their children being sound asleep from running about today.”

  Esme would pat herself on the back, but Mrs. Dolevitt did it for her.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a job as a palace governess, now would you?” asked the housekeeper.

  Esme cocked her head as though to ponder the thought. It wasn’t beyond the realm of consideration. Especially if she’d leave behind Principal Clark for King Leonidas.

  “There is one child who is still awake.” Mrs. Dolevitt inclined her head to the door behind Esme.

  Esme turned and found Penelope standing in the doorway, she wasn’t as bright eyed and bushy tailed as she’d left her a couple hours ago. The child looked tired and was putting up a fight against sleep. Esme wondered if anyone had ever needed to tell the child no for any reason. She was always so well behaved.

  “You said I could help with the baking?” Penelope said. “To practice my fractions.”

  Not only was the child well behaved and well mannered, her requests were also always to increase her academic prowess. Really? Where did this creature come from?

  “I’m afraid we’re all done with the fractions tonight, your highness,” said Jan. “But I could definitely use your help tomorrow. You can be in charge of all the measuring. I hear you’re good with flour.”

  Penelope giggled and then stifled a yawn.

  “Princess Penelope,” said Esme. “I’ve seen a lot of this castle, but I haven’t seen your room. Would you show me?”

  The girl’s eyes glittered awake as she nodded. She reached out her hand, and Esme took the girl’s small one in her own.

  By the time they’d reached the grand staircase, the little princess was leaning into Esme, and her steps slowed. Esme reached down and lifted the five-year-old up and carried her up the grand staircase.

  She expected a frilly room, but the princess’ room was tasteful in soft, muted colors. A picture of a woman hung on the wall. The Queen.

  She was very beautiful. She didn’t grin. Instead, there was a small, dignified smile on Queen Isabel’s face and a softness to her eyes. Esme had imagined the woman harsh and stern, but that’s not what she saw at all in the portrait.

  “I don’t remember her much,” Penelope said from the cradle of Esme’s arms. “My memories are fading.”

  “But can you still feel her?” asked Esme. “She’s watching over you. She lives in your heart.”

  Esme helped Penelope as she undressed. Once in a plain nightgown, Penelope climbed under the covers and allowed Esme to tuck her into bed.

  “I just remembered something,” said Penelope. “My mother used to do this; tuck me in. And then my father would lean down and kiss my forehead. He still does that. Even if I’m sleeping.”

  “How do you know he does it if you’re asleep?”

  “I suppose I can feel him, you know, in my heart.”

  Esme leaned down and kissed the girl’s forehead.

  “Father will get remarried one day soon,” said Penelope. “Do you think my new mother will tuck me in even though I’m not her daughter?”

  “She won’t be able to help it, Pea. You’re so easy to love. I only just met you, and you’re very dear to me.”

  “We’ll always be friends, won’t we, Esme?”

  “Forever and after, sweet pea.”

  Penelope closed her eyes and slipped off into dream land. Esme meant those words. The little girl had captured a piece of her heart. Adoration, it might be called. Attachment might be a better word.

  Esme brushed the girl’s hair from her forehead. In sleep, she finally looked her age. She wished the little princess dreams of a world that let her remain a child for as long as possible.

  With one final kiss to wish her happy dreams, Esme rose to find the king standing in the doorway.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “We need to direct more funds to infrastructure.”

  “Only if it’s for high speed internet and other technologies. Cordoba is far too behind in this area of innovation.”

  “The oil in our waters is all we need to focus on. That is our main source of wealth.”

  “But it needs to be done with more care for the environment. Right, your majesty?”

  Leo clenched his hands so as not to work the nerve pulsing in his temple. For the past hour, he’d been fielding questions and breaking up disputes. Though no children were at this dinner, he felt like the only adult in the room of squabbling adolescents. It was always this way when the House of Lords broke bread with the House of Commons. The problem was, this wasn’t a parliamentary meeting. There were foreign dignitaries at the table, and a family argument had broken off around the dinner table.

  He’d had less than thirty minutes to rest his aching jaw before he had to plaster on that noble half-smile again. Luckily, there were no scissors, shovels, or other items that could be used as blunt weapons at the table.

  “I say this is a state dinner and not the parliamentary floor,” said Leo. “Why not table this argument now that dessert is being placed before us.”

  The country’s leadership let out a collective, disgruntled sigh, but when the pie was put before them, they dug in. For glorious moments, mouths were filled with sweet and savory treats instead of arguments. Leo waved his slice away. He’d had enough to chew on for today.

  “Just try a bite,” Alex coaxed from his spot on Leo’s right. “It’s like tasting heaven. Jan and Esme worked all evening on it.”

  At the mention of Esme’s name, Leo waved the server back over. Just one bite wouldn’t hurt. Of course, he was wrong.

  Just one taste of the pie brought the kindergarten teacher clearly into focus in his mind. The pastry was sweet and airy but also complex and layered. He went back for a second bite.

  “I hear wedding bells are in your future,” said the Prime Minister from his spot on Leo’s left.

  All clattering of silverware, all conversation, all chewing came to an immediate halt. All eyes cast downward as though no one wanted him to know they were eavesdropping. Leo took a moment to swallow the last morsel of his second helping.

  “Of course, we hoped for a Cordovian pairing,” said the Viscount of Jucar. “But a Spanish duchess will suffice, I suppose.”

  “Especially one in the maritime industry,” said the Prime Minister. “The union will create jobs for our citizens.”

  “All well and good for Cordoba,” said Daniel who was seated a few chairs down from Leo. “But what about his majesty’s heart?”

  Now heads did raise. Not only heads but eyebrows. Everyone looked around as though they weren’t sure what the earl’s punch line was.

  “My heart is upstairs,” said Leo. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a moment to say goodnight to my daughter.”

  He made his way out of the dining room. He knew his country had a stake in what he did in his personal life, but he was not going to discuss it around the dinner table as though it were a parliamentary procedure. He was going to do the right thing. He always did the right thing. It was in his breeding.

  He knew in his head that he was doing the right thing by considering marriage to Lady Teresa. He knew it was the best thing for Cordoba’s future both as a monarchy and as an industrial state.

  His head was very clear on those facts. So, why was his heart thumping a different tune? And why was his head paying attention to the b
eat?

  It pounded in his chest, begging for his full attention. It had never beat so loud or so clear in his life. At least he supposed it hadn’t. He was a logical man and always trusted his intuition and deductive skills. But Leo couldn’t remember a time when he’d listened to his own heart.

  Arriving at Penelope’s door, he heard voices. He knew she was there before he opened the door. He felt her before he saw her. That sweet and savory smell of hers knocked him back when he cracked the door open.

  “My mother used to do this; tuck me in. And then my father would lean down and kiss my forehead. He still does that. Even if I’m sleeping.”

  “How do you know he does it if you’re asleep?”

  “I suppose I can feel him, you know, in my heart.”

  Esme leaned down and kissed his little girl’s forehead. Leo remained stock still in the doorway, looming like some great beast as her delicate finger lovingly caressed his child’s features.

  “Father will get remarried one day soon,” said Penelope. “Do you think my new mother will tuck me in even though I’m not her daughter?”

  “She won’t be able to help it, Pea. You’re so easy to love. I only just met you, and you’re very dear to me.”

  “We’ll always be friends, won’t we Esme?”

  “Forever and after, sweet pea.”

  Penelope closed her eyes and slipped off into dream land. Esme planted another kiss to the child’s forehead. She leaned over and stared at Penelope for a few moments longer as though she were saying a prayer or casting a benevolent spell like a fairy godmother.

  Wow. Now she had him doing it; believing in fairytales. Him, the no-nonsense, by-the-book, country-before-heart king of this realm was off in Lala Land.

  Esme froze when she saw him. But in that same instance, she smiled at him. The fireworks in his head were now bombs being shot from his neurotransmitters. The blasts cleared every thought from his head, and his heart raced to take the lead.

  “Good evening, your majesty.”

  She curtsied. Well, her approximation of a curtsey. It was more of a bending bob. She straightened and looked at him expectantly. Whether for him to remark on her manners or to respond in kind, he wasn’t sure. Leo was too busy fighting the war raging inside him, and he was losing. He stepped inside the room and shut the door behind him with a snick of the lock.

  “Penelope wanted to help with the pie making,” said Esme. “As you know, fractions are her jam. But she probably stayed up past her bedtime after traveling and all the day’s excitement. She’ll sleep well like the other children.”

  The battle inside Leo ceased for a split second. He bent over his daughter’s reposed form and pressed his lips to Penelope’s forehead. It was the same spot Esme had pressed her lips. Leo caught Esme’s sweetness in his nose, then on his lower lip. He tugged that corner of his lip inside his mouth, and something clicked inside him.

  “How was dinner?” she asked. “How are you? You’re probably exhausted too. You’ve been going all day.”

  Leo reached to the panel on the wall and turned out the light. Esme’s form was illuminated in the moonlight, clear as day, like a living fairy from another world. He stalked towards her, pushing her deeper into the room.

  Esme backed up at his advance, but he knew she wasn’t frightened. Though she should be as Leo stalked her like prey. They wound up out on the balcony where he closed that door with another quiet snick. The sounds of victory beat out in his heart. The canon fire of his brain ceased, and all was quiet except for Esme’s shallow breaths.

  “Leo?”

  Just one taste. Just once. That wouldn’t hurt.

  He took another step. Esme stopped retreating. She held her ground.

  Tilting her head back, she gazed up into his eyes. His intentions had to be clear on his face. He couldn’t fight it anymore. When the realization of the inevitable dawned on her, Esme gasped. Leo took advantage of her parted lips.

  It was such a simple gesture, a kiss. Just a press of the lips. He’d always found the alignment of the two heads tricky. Head on would cause noses to bump. So one person would have to tilt to the left and the other to the right. The coordination was the key, but he’d never figured out how to communicate which direction he would descend to let his partner know so that she might go the opposite direction.

  Without words, he and Esme were in perfect synch. She went left, and he went right. Their lips met in the middle in perfect alignment.

  Off in the distance fireworks went off igniting the night’s sky. Realistically, Leo knew that the pyrotechnics were in preparation for tomorrow’s Union Day celebration. But, for the first time in his life, he let his imagination run.

  His kiss with Esme had set the world on fire. It certainly set him on fire. Every good sense in his brain burned to cinders at the touch of her lips to his. The sweet taste of her washed all reason from him. He felt full and starving at the same time.

  One taste would not do. Somewhere inside his short circuiting brain, he’d known that would be the case. He pressed into her and deepened the kiss.

  It might be their second kiss, but it was the one and only time that he would taste her. He had to make it last. And so he took one more before breaking away from her.

  It was the fight of a lifetime tearing his lips from hers. His lips won, but his arms were still on the battlefield, wrapped tightly around Esme’s torso, holding her close. He rested his forehead against hers continuing to breathe in her sweet scent.

  He’d only kissed two other women in his lifetime, and it had been nothing like what had just happened between him and Esme.

  “That was the most selfish thing I’ve ever done in my life,” he said.

  “You did it spectacularly well,” she said. “But, as a teacher, I know that practice makes perfect.”

  Her hand reached up and cupped his chin. Her lips were about to land the deathblow to his shattered sense of duty if he didn’t do something. He didn’t want to do anything but let her claim her victory. Somehow, Leo found the will power to turn his head.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t. I have to get married.”

  “Before you kiss me again?” She grinned up at him with pure joy in her eyes.

  His heart stopped at the look. He knew then that she would say yes if he asked. Leo wanted nothing more in this world than to ask that question of her. Instead, he had to crush her dreams.

  “To a future duchess,” he said.

  The first crack was tiny. It was a single wrinkle in her brow of confusion. Despite her wild imagination, Esme was a very smart woman. Within a few seconds, reality dawned on her.

  “I don’t think there’s a degree in becoming a duchess, is there?” she asked.

  He wanted to laugh. She was still making jokes in the face of despair. But this predicament they were in now in was far too tragic for humor.

  She withdrew her hand from his cheek leaving Leo feeling cold and alone. “No, I suppose you need someone born a duchess. And now I’m coming to understand the selfish part of your statement.”

  She took a single step away from him, and Leo felt bereft like he was deserted on an island. “Esme, I’m so sorry.”

  She gave him her back and leaned against the railing. Her shoulders caved, and her head bowed as though she were going to be sick. “You’re going to marry someone else?”

  He nodded. Then realized she couldn’t see him. “Yes.”

  But his voice sounded like the croak of a frog. He’d been a king, but when the woman of his dreams kissed him, he turned into a frog. Wasn’t that irony?

  Esme turned back to him. Her features were scrunched in confusion. “Truly?”

  Leo tilted his head back and looked at the sky. There were no answers there. No dragons came to swoop them both away into a fairytale world where they could be together. Reality was closing in on all sides.

  “But we have a thing,” she said.

  He looked back at her. “A thing?”

  �
��Yes. Between us.” She motioned with her hand at the empty space between them. “There’s a thing.”

  “What thing?”

  Now she threw her hands up. “I don’t know. It’s unnamed. But it’s there. You know it’s there. It’s butterflies in your stomach. It’s fireflies in your head. It’s sparklers in your heart.”

  Oh, that thing. The thing he’d imagined for the past couple of days. The thing that was all too real but could never survive in the harsh reality they found themselves in.

  “Yes, I know what you mean,” was all he could manage.

  “So, you can’t marry someone else.”

  “I have to.”

  “Have to?”

  It was such a simple question. But the answer was so complex. “I must produce a male heir for Cordoba. My wife has to be of noble blood.”

  “Has to?”

  He huffed in frustration. “This is just the way things are. I can’t change it.”

  “Why not? You’re the king.”

  Leo opened his mouth. Then closed it. He had no words for her.

  “Why did you kiss me? You were, what? Sowing your royal oats with a commoner?”

  He reached out and grabbed her forearm. He wanted to shake her for saying such a thing. “You’re more than that to me.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She stared him down, her brown gaze accusatory and unapologetic. “Do you?”

  He knew he had to let her go. Instead, he cupped both her shoulders with his hands. “Esmeralda Pickett, you are the most magical thing that’s ever happened to me. I kissed you because I just wanted, for one moment in my life, something for me, something I dreamed of, my own fairytale.”

  She nodded as though that made sense. “But now you’re going to push me back into the real world? Do you think any man is ever going to live up to you?”

  He hated the idea of Esme and another man. “Esme, I would give anything for things to be different.”

  “No, you wouldn’t.” She broke from his embrace and stepped beyond his reach. “You have everything. And what you don’t have, you can get. You’re a king, Leo. Change the rules.”