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“Oh, I rescued a damsel in distress. Esme, the woman from the pie shop.“ With her name on his tongue, Leo got one last blast of sweetness just behind his two front teeth that he’d somehow missed. He swallowed the final tidbit and felt its presence move to the back of his throat and down his chest.
Giles was not amused. “Here, switch with me.”
Leo did. Luckily, he and Giles were the same size, and Giles’s coat was nearly as fine as Leo’s. With that disaster averted, and the last traces of his adventure gone, they headed into the building.
The UN’s role was to maintain international peace and security. Cordoba was under no threat. The small country hadn’t been for centuries. Once upon a time, Leo’s ancestors had a stronghold in the lands of what would become present day Spain and France. But with a violent history, the people were torn apart, boundaries were shifted over until finally, the present day Cordovians found themselves on a lush island in the Mediterranean.
The people couldn’t complain. The island was surrounded by pristine beaches. Inwards were lush valleys and tall mountains. The soil was fertile, and the fish were plenty.
Another part of the UN charter was to protect human rights. Cordoba had no charges of inhumane violations. Even in a country populated by former enemies who’d ransacked each other’s ancestors, there was now a harmony amongst the mix of French, Spanish, and African fellows.
When it came to humanitarian aid, thanks to its fishing industry and the oil found surrounding the island, Cordoba was rich enough to help its neighbors. But there was more opportunity to be had. Leo was here to place his hand out for another of the UN’s chartered goals; that of sustainable development.
“We are a small island state,” he said from his place at the lectern. “We have had great success and prosperity that we’d like to share with you, our international countrymen. Our ancestors braved wars, moved borders, segregated, integrated, and, through it all, we survived and came out the other end stronger. We may be small, but we are mighty.”
In his speech, he didn’t mention that poverty was on the rise last year, or that teen pregnancy was on an uptick. The older citizens were financially stable and content in established industries. But the young people of Cordoba had few job prospects and too much free time. Those who were bright and ambitious were leaving the country in droves. Those who saw little or no opportunity were procrastinating and procreating.
The government had to create a new industry to keep its youth occupied and remaining in the country. But all Cordovian resources were tapped. He needed fresh blood, fresh blue blood.
At the end of his speech, Leo was greeted with polite applause. He knew he’d succeeded when two individuals approached him. All along, the speech had been for an audience of two.
The Duke of Almodovar was a stout man with a round belly and a curling, gray mustache. The man had used his title to build an empire on seas, much like his pirate ancestors. His was the favor Leo courted. But more importantly, it was the woman who walked beside him whose attention Leo hoped to capture.
“King Leonidas, may I present my daughter, Lady Teresa Nadal, the future duchess of Almodovar.”
Lady Teresa curtsied and then extended her hand. Leo took the offered hand, planting a light kiss to Lady Teresa’s knuckles. He’d expected a strong whiff of expensive perfumes. He was pleasantly surprised by the smell of sweet cinnamon.
“I was very impressed by your speech,” said Lady Teresa. “I wondered if you might find the time on your schedule to talk shop?”
“Please excuse my daughter,” said the duke. “The family business is never far from her pretty mind.”
What was on the mind of most daughters of nobility was the family business of maintaining the royal line. He’d heard that Lady Teresa had more industrial interests, which suited Leo’s needs perfectly.
“I don’t mind at all,” Leo said. “In fact, I’m having a dinner party tonight. Just a small gathering of the state senator, the mayor, and a few other dignitaries. I would love it if you and your daughter could attend.”
“My father has another engagement,” said Lady Teresa. “But I would be delighted.”
The Almodovars were one of the most successful maritime construction builders in all of Europe. Cordoba had maximized its use of its land. Now Leo aimed to conquer the waters. He needed a partnership with the family to do so. What better way to build a bridge than the old fashioned way; marriage between nobility.
Chapter Six
The staff of Global Learning Preparatory Academy was in a tizzy when Esme returned thirty minutes later. Outside the building, she’d seen another car with orange, red, and blue flags parked at the front of the school in the school bus zone. Apparently, diplomatic immunity extended to the Kiss and Ride lane.
Esme wondered if Leo was here. But he’d said he and the pinched-face Giles were joining the king at the United Nations Headquarters. This had to be the ride of the princess and the king’s younger brother, the prince.
Esme made her way down to her room as the mostly female teachers and staff whispered in each other’s ears and gi
ggled behind their hands like middle schoolers. Esme didn’t catch sight of the prince. Her mind was elsewhere.
Just this morning, Esme had been excited about the prospect of breathing the same air as a real live prince. But since meeting the royal bodyguard, her temperature and attention had been redirected. Sure, Esme read plenty of fairytales as a kid. But as a grown woman, many of the romance novels on her shelf featured valiant, bare-chested knights who rushed into battle for the unattainable lady promised to the evil prince or aging king.
Leo could definitely fit that bill and then some. But she doubted she’d run into him again. Unless he had another hankering for spicy meat pie. Esme would just have to make sure and make herself available at Jan’s until closing today and as much time as she could tomorrow in hopes of another chance encounter with her hunky knight.
She paid no heed to the crowd gathered at the conference room where she was sure the prince and princess were. Unfortunately, the royal pair wouldn’t be touring or stopping in her room. Principal Clarke had hand selected Mrs. Truesdale’s Stepford children for the class observation. He wouldn’t likely let such dignitaries near Esme’s unpredictable classroom.
She still wasn’t broken into the GLPA way. Esme never intended to be. She was all for striving for academic excellence, but these kids deserved the time and the chance to be, well, kids.
“We’ve been sleeping,” Esme said as the last of her class roused from their nap, “So, you know what that means; time to get our bodies moving. Who’s ready for math?”
