Lunch with Prince Consort Leo

Intro to ‘Lunch with ZD’: This bonus segment of my newsletter is inspired by ‘Lunch with the FT’—a popular interview series in the Financial Times where journalists dine with prominent figures, discussing their lives and careers over a meal. My version of it brings back popular characters from previous books to talk about their lives, loves, and food preferences.

As I step into The Cinnamon Club in the heart of Westminster, I immediately spot Leo, or Prince Leo as the tabloids are fond of calling him, sitting in a private corner. His piercing blue eyes are focused on a tablet, no doubt reviewing one of his many projects, his brown hair tousled in that just-so way. There’s an energy about him, like an electric current running just beneath the surface.

He greets me with a wry grin. “Not exactly your usual mogul interviewee, am I?” He’s dressed down for the occasion, in dark jeans and a soft-looking jumper, not the couture or royal regalia one might expect. “I’ve always preferred a more relaxed look. My husband, Joshua, doesn’t mind.”

“Roughing it was … educational”

We start with a sharing platter of soft shell crab and a bottle of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. Leo regales me with tales of his late teenage years spent on London’s streets. “Roughing it was … educational,” he says with a wistful smirk. “But it was also a crash course in survival and resourcefulness. Something no Eton education could’ve imparted.”

It’s clear that the time was formative for Leo. Now as a leading advocate for homeless youth, he’s dedicated to ensuring no child has to experience what he did. “There’s this twisted sense of poetic justice,” he muses. “The very streets that almost broke me now pave the way for the work I do.”

Over tandoori king prawns, we move on to his more recent history—how he, a former street kid, ended up marrying into the royal family. He laughs at the fairytale comparisons that have been drawn. “It was anything but a Cinderella story, I assure you. Working with Joshua on his coming-out was like navigating a labyrinth while blindfolded. The fear of backlash, the endless rehearsals—but the connection that grew between us, that was as real as it gets.”

As we dig into the beetroot and paneer tikkis, he’s less forthcoming about his role as a ‘personal fixer’, and more so about the charity projects he’s spearheading. He’s passionate, animated, as he discusses a new initiative he’s launching, aiming to integrate homeless youths back into the education system. “It’s about creating a safe space for them, but also about imparting skills that will empower them.”

“I didn’t fall in love with a title or a position. I fell in love with a man.”

There’s a trace of frustration when the subject of his ‘Prince Consort’ moniker comes up. “It’s just an overblown term, isn’t it? I’m a consort, sure, but I’m not about to sit around while Joshua takes all the responsibility. I didn’t fall in love with a title or a position. I fell in love with a man.”

We wrap up our lunch over some classic masala chai and mango kulfi, laughing about his mock royal wave and his husband’s endearing blush. He’s quick-witted, his humour sharp yet playful, but there’s an undeniable depth to him. Leo’s journey from the streets to the palace isn’t just a tabloid story; it’s a testament to resilience, determination, and the transformative power of love.

As we part ways, his blue eyes seem to hold a knowing twinkle. “Make sure they get it right.” He smirks. “It’s Prince Leo, remember?” But there’s no arrogance, just the same wit and charm that undoubtedly captured a prince’s heart and continues to champion for those less fortunate.

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(zd)