Anastasia's pov

At some point along the long drive, I dozed off to the sound of Harry softly humming to the radio while attempting to get a hold of someone on his phone. I'm not sure who he was calling, I remember him asking me if I was okay, and as far as I know, I hummed a response.

I am fine; I am not going to fall off the deep end and swiftly become deranged. I don't understand the circumstances that have happened in the last few months, I never imagined that this is what being Royal would be like. My parents didn't prepare me for any of this, I don't think anyone could have equipped me for these trials of royalty.

I am incredibly fatigued, sleeping without Harry and not knowing where he has been stressing me out, along with being unsure of my father and his mayhem. Now, I have Victoria's corpse imprinted in my memory every time I close my eyes. I don't want to shut my eyes and envision everything, but I am so exhausted that I have no choice. I closed my eyes just for a moment while Harry drove and I was in and out of sleep the rest of the ride.

I briefly remember Harry waking me up and whispering in my ear that he couldn't carry me, I had no real clue where we were, but all I remember is falling back asleep as soon as I had a soft place to fall.

I breathe in the scent of clean sheets and I pull the covers further up my body while I open my eyes in an attempt to grasp my bearings. "Harry?" His name falls sleepily from my lips while I sit up, the room still blacked out from the curtains.

"Go back to sleep," Harry mumbles, tugging at the covers, "At my Mum's, you're fine," Harry assures me, getting comfortable in the bed.

I don't think he understands that just because he claims that we are safe, it doesn't mean I'm going to believe it at this point.

I tilt my head to the side and watch the slight ray of sunshine slowly peek its way through the curtains while I think about the last few hours that have transpired.

I can't help but continue to remember walking away from Harry. I should have listened to him and stayed with him and Matthew, maybe then I wouldn't have had to discover Victoria.

I remember I was walking along the stones, following the path when I was momentarily sidetracked by this scent that made me sick to my stomach, I thought nothing of it. I figured it was just a rodent or some sort of explanation that wasn't a dead body. I fell over her body, quite literally, and the thought of remembering the incident causes my stomach to stir.

With every day that passes, I become more and more aware of the fact that my father is immoral. I'm not sure what he has managed to get into, but whatever it is, it's not good. Ultimately, I'm paying the consequences of his actions and decisions. I can't blame him for everything, with us being royal, we are always at risk, but recently, it seems like we are at a higher risk, thanks to him.

I benevolently shake Harry, being cautious not to touch his painful shoulder, Harry mumbles something inaudible against his pillow before lifting his head, "What's wrong? Are you okay?" Harry sleepily asks, leisurely sitting himself up, his right hand beginning to reach to his side table.

"You don't need the gun," I inform him, noticing what he is reaching for. I think it is a force of habit for him, he never really knows why I could be waking him, with all the dangerous events and evacuations, I don't blame him for stretching for it while half asleep, unaware as to why I am waking him.

Harry hums, "Then why the fuck am I awake?" He grumbles, not too pleased.

"Do, do you think my Dad is losing it?"

"What?" Harry asks, seeming a little confused.

"Do you think he is losing the plot? Going senile? Literally going mentally insane?" It could make sense for him to be losing his mind.

Senility can produce changes in mental health, such as memory loss or a decline in judgment. His judgment certainly hasn't been the best when it comes to things, he put me in jeopardy when we went to Greece, he put us all in danger, he is angry all of the time and has acted out, firing a lot of the staff— He isn't the Father I remember, he has been on a steady decline ever since he started to talk about handing me the crown, once he told the whole of Britain that he was hoping to hand things down to me by the end of the year, everything steadily got worse. personality or behaviour changes are another symptom but the only issue is that he is too young to be going senile, he is only fifty, surely he isn't old enough to be going senile. Maybe he is clinically insane? Maybe I am clinically insane at this point, I feel like I am going insane.

Harry blankly stares at me for a few moments, silence crowding the room.

Harry shakes his head and lies back down, "Goodnight, Anastasia."

"Harry—"

"Go to sleep," Harry mumbles, drawing the covers back up his body and becoming comfortable between the sheets.

I heavily sigh and move my body closer to his, trying to get as close as possible without bothering him hurting him. Harry doesn't speak, instead, he opens his arm and enables me to move closer, allowing him to settle his arm around me while I relax on his good shoulder.

I listen to the melodious breaths of Harry while he falls asleep. I gaze up at the ceiling, trying to think of a logical solution for everything that has been occurring.

Perhaps my Father is going senile.
Perhaps my Father just has a lot of enemies.

Perhaps the monarch is turning against my Father.

Perhaps all of this is happening without logical explanations.

Perhaps I need to find a way to pass the crown to someone else.

♔♔♔ ♔♔♔

Through the night, I was in and out of sleep, so was Harry, I could feel him shuffling around in the bed, trying to get comfortable and groaning every so often. Sleeping doesn't come to me easily now, last night I was concerned about my father, I do not know where exactly he is or if he is okay. I genuinely think he is starting to lose his mind, it would explain his shift in behaviours. One minute he's trying to marry me off and the next minute he's angry at the world.

I shift the covers around my body and groan, a desire to stay in bed overcoming me sharply as I gradually wake up to the sound of an unfamiliar voice down the hallway, "I heard there's a princess, I want to meet her."

"Gemma, shh," Harry hushes her, "She's asleep, go away. You're not following me in here," Harry continues, doing his best to whisper but failing.

I chuckle to myself as the door opens, "Damnit, Gemma, piss off," Harry again mutters, pushing her arm away from the doorframe and closing the door behind him.

Harry glances over at me and smiles, "I'm sorry, she's uh— she wants to meet you."

"She wants to meet a princess." I correct him.

"Mhm," Harry hums, "She doesn't mean that in a bad way; she means no disrespect."

I sit up in the bed and shrug my shoulders, "Is 'she' your sister or?" I ask, unsure of who is summoning me and wanting to meet me. I know Harry has a sister, I have never met her so I can only assume the woman eager to meet me in the hallways' is no other than his sister.

Harry nods his head, "Yes, my sister who seems to have a problem with boundaries."

"Well," I chuckle, pulling the covers towards my shoulders, "She sounds lovely."

"She's a pest," Harry responds, "But, she did bring some clothes for you," Harry places a pair of leggings and a long sweater on the bed, "Mum bought some clothes while we were asleep for you to go through, probably warmer than this," Harry holds up the white sweater.

"I am sure it is fine," I assure him, appreciative that his mother and sister were both kind enough to take into consideration that I have no clothes besides what I left London in.

When I was woken up by Harry, I had no clue that we would be evacuating and I would have nothing besides the clothes on my back and my phone.

"It's a bit crisp this morning."

"Says the person who isn't wearing a shirt," I point out.

"Do you know how painful it is to put a shirt on without help? It was easier to just throw on the bloody sling and sweatpants. Should let my mother shop for me more, these are comfortable," Harry gestures towards his pants, causing me to raise a brow.

I can't deny the fact that if it wasn't for his damn shoulder, I'd gradually make my way closer to him, and allow my hands to flow across his shoulders before travelling themselves down his chest, where my thoughts would become entangled with only one—him.

My hands would examine the texture of his body, moderately working their way past his abs, and then my fingers would sweep across his V-line in a teasing matter where his sweatpants would fall to his ankles.

I cock my head to the side, admiring the way his hair has been brushed but still appears rumpled, he has his sun-kissed tan from the summer and his few tattoos seem to catch my attention this morning.

He has the body of a faultlessly chiselled sculpture and it's destroying me in all ways.

"Do I even want to ask what you're thinking about?" Harry distracts me from my stare.

I bite my lip and gaze up at him, trying my best to conceal my smirk.

Harry clears his throat and begins to step around to my side, "You have that look."

"What look?" I innocently inquire.

Harry leans down and kisses my lips sweetly, "The look where you want to make love," Harry whispers, drawing away from my lips and enticing me further.

"Why must you always say 'make love'?"

"Because fucking the princess just isn't as romantic." Harry outright responds, "Not very respectful."

"Whatever," I roll my eyes, "Soooo..." I trail off with a grin.

Harry sighs and shakes his head, "I can't, Anna."

"How many times will you deny me until you give in? Talk about playing hard to get," I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.

I have lost count how many times I have been denied.

"I hate to break it to you, but you do realise I fucked my shoulder and can barely move it after carrying you last night?"

"I had a better chance of getting anything out of you while you were on morphine." I laugh, playfully teasing him.

Harry chuckles, "Probably," he nods, "Believe me, I wish I still had my morphine."

"Mhm, change the subject, sounds about right."

"Spoilt." Harry laughs, delighted by the fact I'm still sexually frustrated.

I raise a brow at him, "Spoilt? Me? How? You haven't touched me in quite some time."

"Anna... baby..." Harry sighs, "How about tonight?"

"Last time I heard that, you ended up hurt and I was shoved in a bloody pantry thing, hiding from people who wanted to kill me, soooo." I trail off, reminding him of the last time those words left his strawberry-red lips.

"I promise, tonight."

"I'll be pissed if I'm shoved in a pantry."

Harry smiles, "Nothing bad will happen, you won't be shoved into pantries and your life won't be on the line."

I grin at Harry and nod my head, agreeing that tonight will work, as long as nothing negative happens by then.

"Mhm," I hum, "Whatever you say," I respond just as the door to the bedroom opens.

Harry glances over his shoulder towards the door where his sister, I assume, stands, leaning on the doorframe with an angelic smile while locks of chestnut-brown hair curtain her face.

"Do I need to cutesy?" Gemma questions under her breath, staring at me half a smile painted across her lips.

"Yes," Harry responds with a smirk, watching his sister do her very best at curtsying to me.

I raise a brow towards Harry before I shake my head, "No, I'm just Anastasia, I'm not a princess while I'm here," I smile at her, not wanting anyone to treat me and different than what they would a normal civilian. I don't expect them to curtsy to me or refer to me as 'Princess,' I expect nothing besides kindness, and that is what I have been shown so far. "He is just being a jerk," I assure his sister.

His sister nods her head, "It's what he does best. I'm Gemma, his sister."

"Yes, this is my sister, who is very kindly interrupting," Harry interjects as he pulls his phone from his pocket, "You at least could have knocked."

Gemma shrugs her shoulders and walks past Harry, not caring about his comments, "If you need any clothes, just let me know. I don't know what Mum picked out but if you need anything, just ask."

"I need you to leave," Harry smiles, and again, Gemma ignores him, entirely brushing him off and sorting through the clothes Harry placed on the bed from their mother.

"Thank you, Gemma," I appreciate her being kind. She doesn't have to be nice to me and offer me her clothes, quite honestly, she doesn't have to do anything for me, this is the first time she has met me. She has every reason to be standoffish with me. "I'm going to make coffee," I push the covers of the sheets off my body, "Give you two time to catch up," I wink towards Harry, well aware that he doesn't get to see his family too often, I think it is best to give them some time, even if it is just a few minutes while I make coffee.

♔♔♔

I walk down the hallway with two cups of coffee in my hands, making my way towards Harry's childhood bedroom. The last time I tried to make our coffee, it did not go nearly as smoothly as it did this time. Not that it is a very big achievement, but I smile to myself, quite pleased with how my coffee turned out, even if it is a simple task. Making coffee in the palace is not something that I do, I never get the chance to— it is all done for me. I know how privileged and spoilt it makes me sound, but in all fairness, I would change things if I could. I want to be able to do mundane things such as making coffee and washing linens.

"So, can you tell me what happened and why you're up here?" Harry's sister challenges him just as I stop outside the door.

"I could, but then I'd have to kill you."

"It can't be that serious," she scoffs.

"Drop it," Harry warns sternly, in a way I'd never expect him to act towards his sister.

"You're such a hardass, don't forget you used to chase butterflies in the garden as a kid."

"I don't pry about your job, don't pry about mine."

"That's because you're an ass and never ask me about my job... not that it's very interesting compared to yours."

"You think keeping your wife alive is interesting?" Harry snaps unhappily.

"Well, she isn't your wife yet, but yes. Seems like the palace life is interesting... Speaking of which, Harry, are you sure you want this?" Gemma asks, causing my heart to sink in my chest. She doesn't sound like she approves of our relationship.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you sure you want to marry into the royal family? It's a big fucking deal... Putting aside all the shit I don't know and the danger you're currently in, do you realise how much work being a royal is? Your life will never be the same again."

"There's a reason we are keeping it quiet. I love her, I want to be with her, I don't care about the royal family and the monarchy narrative, I care about her."

"You have to care about the monarch because you'll be a part of it, Harry. She won't choose you over the crown, she can't hand it off to someone else. You won't be normal." Gemma explains the things that I have already tried to explain to Harry before. He is aware things aren't normal.

"I don't want her to choose me over the crown, I've accepted she has major responsibilities, I know what I'm getting into, Gemma. I don't need you to tell me what I'm getting into, I see it every day, you just read about it in history books and on social media."

"I'm making sure you understand that this isn't going to be easy. You won't work, you will do royal duties, is that what you want? You should be working towards being the president of operations, not suddenly becoming royalty."

"I'm aware. I'm a big boy, I can make my own decisions. I can still work security, I don't want Matthew's job right now. I'm marrying her, if you don't like it then that's just too bad. I'm not here for your approval, quite frankly I'm not here at all for you."

"There you go being an arse."

"You bring out the asshole in me when you act like I'm not capable of making decisions. I'm your little brother, I get it, but I thought you of all people would be more accepting. I expected mum to be the one to convince me not to marry her, instead, mum's the one who encouraged me to propose. I had my doubts, I know I'm not good enough for her, she deserves Prince Charming and I'm just some guy from the country-side who became her security... but damnit I try every day to be the man she needs, so do me a favour and at least pretend to like her until we leave."

"I do like her, Harry."

"Then this conversation doesn't need to go any further," Harry dismisses her and I let out a breath.

I should have walked away when I heard them talking, I shouldn't have listened in to the conversation because now I don't know how I feel about everything.

If his sister doesn't have faith in us then who the fuck will?

"I have coffee," I announce, pretending like I didn't hear them as I step into the bedroom and hand Harry his coffee.

Harry kisses my cheek and takes the cup from my hand, wasting no time with taking a sip, "Much better than last time," Harry grins.

"I'll leave you two to settle in, I have some sewing to do," Gemma excuses herself politely, standing up from her position on the bed and walking out without saying anything further.

I look towards Harry, wanting to question things but there is a time and a place, right now isn't the right time. I can't start something at this hour of the morning, I don't want to start our day on a shitty note.

♔♔♔ ♔♔♔

Harry grins at me while he launches a blanket towards me and makes his way towards the open fireplace that has been roaring since sunset. He pokes the logs a little before adding the last log to the fire, ambers crackling and disbursing in their brilliant colours of red and apricot.

He comes closer to me and kisses my cheek before falling beside me and getting comfortable, his hand making sure to move the blanket so I'm covered and warm. "Have you found a dress you like, love?"

I shake my head and hand him my tea, "No, it's hard when I need to try them on," I answer.

Just because it seems good online it doesn't mean it'll look good in person, wedding dress shopping without a boutique is harder than one would think. "Starting to wonder if we should just get married at the courthouse."

Harry shakes his head immediately, "No, you deserve the dress of your dreams at the very least."

"Harry, I don't need it... I just want to get married. We can go to the courthouse."

"Anna—"

"Jus' think about it? Your Mum understands where I'm coming from."

"My mother agreed with you?" Harry raises a brow.

"Can you just think about it?"

"You want me to just take you to the courthouse?"

"I don't see why not."

"You'd be happy to go to the courthouse right now and get married? No dress, no family, nothing?" Harry questions.

"Yes."

Harry nods his head and sighs before standing to his feet, "I'm going to bed."

"Are you mad?" I question, watching as he begins to walk away, "Harry?"

He turns and peers over at me, "No, are you coming to bed?" Harry questions while walking down the hallway, leaving me by myself in the living room.

I wander into his bedroom and close the door, "Are you seriously upset with me? You can't just walk away from a conversation because you don't—" I begin to express my frustration with him walking away from me and the conversation about our wedding, but I'm swiftly cut off by his lips hitting mine and his body pushing me against the wall.

He drags his mouth from my own and leaves sweet kisses down my jawline, moving to my neck, "Not mad," he mumbles against my warm skin, causing my heart to skip a beat.

His hand slips under my shirt and we begin to dance our way to the bed before he pushes me to fall to the bed.

Before anything more, Harry's phone begins to ring, causing him to drag his mouth from my own, "You've got to be fucking kidding me," Harry huffs, reaching over and grabbing his phone from the side table. "Hello?" Harry snaps in an unhappy tone, making it a point to show he has been inconvenienced. "Matthew, I'm busy right now, I can't drive.... What? You're out front already? Well, fuck, give me a few minutes to get dressed..." Harry hangs up the phone and looks at me. "Anna, I'm so sorry..."

I shake my head and heavily sigh, "It's fine. What's happening?"

Harry kisses my cheek before forcing himself off the bed and makes his way towards some of his clothes his Mum graciously bought him, "I have to work with Matthew."

"What do you mean?" I question, unsure of what Harry means. He shouldn't be having to work, he's on my service and there is nothing for him to do besides make sure I'm safe. My parents are in other places, so it isn't as though he had to escort them anywhere.

Harry's hesitant to speak and takes a moment of silence to gather the right words to say, "We need to handle some stuff at Windsor and Buckingham."

"You're driving back to London? I don't think you should be driving at this hour."

Harry shakes his head, "Matthew is."

"Why though?"

"Anastasia, you don't want to know."

I shake my head and sigh, "I'd like to know. Seems suspicious to me." I am not trying to start an argument by any means, I just want to know where he is going and why. With everything that has happened and how my world is entirely upside down, it makes me feel better to know what is going on instead of being left in he dark or being blindsided.

"Anna, you make my job hard sometimes," Harry mutters, "I have to go and help move Victoria."

"What?" My eyes grow wide while he does his best to pull on a sweater.

"You heard me, I need to go move her," he responds.

I look at him, bewildered by the fact that he's having to do such a thing, the sheer idea of him going back in the tunnels to her makes me uneasy.

I flashback to what I saw in the tunnels and her lifeless body lying on the concrete.

I don't want to ask any more questions, I don't need any more answers, nor do I want to know any. I don't want to be apart of anything that has to do with Victoria right now.

♔♔♔ ♔♔♔

I'm pulled from my slumber when Harry gently caresses his hand to my arm and kisses my cheek, "Hey, Baby," Harry whispers, "I'm home."

I gradually push myself up on my elbow, grasping my focus as Harry kisses my forehead, "Go back to sleep." Harry adjusts the covers, drawing them more towards my side of my bed before placing a phone down on my side table, "Your new phone to call your parents off."

"Why do I need a new phone?" I tiredly question, unsure of why the old one that I have is being replaced.

"Precautions to make sure it isn't tapped and tracked, I will get rid of your old one when I wake up. Now, go back to sleep."

Ever since Harry left, I've been uneasy and sick to my stomach, I'm not sure what it is but even just hearing her name managed to unsettle me. I move to sit up against the pillows while Harry places his phone and wallet on the side table on my side as well, "Go to sleep, it's four in the morning."

I shake my head and Harry sits down on the edge beside me, "Why? Are you having nightmares about everything?" He softly asks, remembering the last time I was up here and the fact Henry left me with nightmares the first night.

"No... I'm not feeling too well."

Harry presses his hand to my forehead, "Well, no temperature. Do you want me to go get you anything?"

"No, it's okay," I half-smile at him, "Get in bed, you're probably exhausted."

Harry shakes his head, "Move forward a bit," Harry instructs, gently pressing his hand to my back, "I'll stay up with you," he continues, beginning to rub soothing circles on my back. "Would you like tea or a heating pad?"

"I'd like for life to settle down, Harry."

"I am doing my best to make it happen."

"You can't," I sigh.

There isn't much that Harry can do to settle life and normalise things. None of this is his fault, my family issues do not stem from him, but I can't help but continue to replay the conversation in my head that he has with his sister.

Harry doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve inconsistency and scrutiny of things. He deserves a lovely girl who is normal, someone that will make sure dinner is on the table when he gets home from a long day at work and will pour him a drink to his liking. Harry deserves someone who isn't in the spotlight of the world and who doesn't need to be watched twenty-four-seven. Although I am aware that he does deserve better, the selfish part of me doesn't want to care.

Harry swears up and down this is what he wants and that he is aware of what he is getting into, but due to the current events, I don't even know what I am getting into anymore. I don't know what each day will hold, for all I know, by tomorrow morning I could be whisked off to America because there is suddenly another threat— things are unpredictable.

"Harry," I begin with a soft voice, "Is this what you want?"

"To be awake at this hour? No." Harry shakes his head.

I don't think anyone wants to be awake at this hour.

"No," I shake my head, "Us? Getting married and being apart of royalty."

Harry continues to rub my back, "I want to marry you, I thought that was pretty clear."

"But you do know it won't be easy, right? You know that being married to a Queen will have disadvantages, right?"

"I accepted that when you said you would not abdicate and refuse the crown. I want to marry you, where is all this coming from?"

"If it came down to it, Harry, I would give up the crown for us, but right now I cannot. There is nobody to take it that is a good fit, the monarch would go into the hands of a distant cousin and I don't want to risk that. I don't want to risk us either, it is going to be hard, it won't be easy, and... and you won't have as much freedom, you deserve the life you want to live."

"Mhm," Harry hums, "Anna, did my sister say something to you?" Harry instantly questions.

I shake my head, "No."

"You heard her conversation, didn't you?"

I don't respond, I stay closed-lipped and allow the silence to penetrate the bedroom. "Shouldn't eavesdrop, darling," Harry heavily sighs before I feel him press a kiss to my shoulder, "I know what I am getting into, my sister overstepped her mark, I can make my decisions. I want to marry you, let's get some sleep." Harry continues, moving to kiss my cheek, "I love you, don't forget that," Harry adds, carefully moving beside me.

"Just making sure this is what you want."

"If it wasn't, I wouldn't be here."

"You have no choice, you're the bodyguard," I chuckle.

Harry shakes his head, "I don't have to be in bed with you, and I don't have to be planning a wedding. Don't overthink it, ignore my sister. Your bodyguard is tired and would like to sleep." Harry presses, pulling the covers over his body

♔♔♔

Harry's POV

The rain has been falling heavily for the last hour, and it's almost like the heavens have ultimately decided to open up and they don't want to close.

I stare down at the steam emanating from my hot tea, my hands cupped around the edges, the heat radiating warmth through my body.

I should be curled up in bed with the gracious covers around me and my beautiful partner beside me, asleep, instead, I'm perched at the kitchen table, staring into an abyss of a cup looking for answers that I'm sure I won't be able to discover. Most people find answers at the bottom of a bottle, and I am almost at the point of finding a bottle of whiskey but I don't think that will solve much.

There are a few things I need to figure out.

Why Victoria is dead and why she was in the tunnels.How long before Victoria is reported missing and whether she will be found.How I explain things to Anastasia.When will things go back to normal?

If I could come up with a resolution for everything, perhaps life would be a little bit more indulgent, unfortunately, at some point, things became so hectic that I don't have any answers. I think the next time I have a cup of coffee, I will need to add a shot of whiskey to it. I require something to help calm me down and soothe these damn questions that I can't figure out. I feel as though I am attempting to piece together a puzzle that doesn't have all the pieces. I am sure that the king has more pieces to this puzzle that he will not reveal just yet.

I can't begin to imagine how Anastasia feels, it lies heavily on my mind and I don't know how to ask her how she is processing everything. Even if she does open up and tell me how she feels about the chaos, there isn't much I can do besides console her and hold her. I am useless purely because I do not have answers for any of the questions that could be asked. I know she will have questions, she always has questions.

"Why do you look so glum?" My sister distracts me from my drowning thoughts.

I glance up from my mug and discover my sister stepping closer, her hair thrown up in a bun and her sweater falling off her shoulder as she yawns.

"I thought you moved out years ago?"

She rolls her eyes at my comment, "Likewise... Some of us visit our mother and stay for a few days."

I don't respond, I just take a sip of my tea, not wanting to banter with her at this hour. "So, why are you so glum? Where's your princess?"

I glare at my sister and she curls her lips up into a smirk. She's doing this to purposely piss me off.

As kids, we continuously took the piss out of each other and found ways to get under each other's skin, and usually, I'd be all for our banter, but right now, I'm exhausted and I don't want backhanded comments... especially when it comes to Anna who is on the direct path of an emotional breakdown.

"Do you not like her or something?" I asked with irritation, unsure of where my sister stands when it comes to my relationship.

Whether my sister likes her or not, it doesn't change my decisions of marrying her, but I'd still like to know my sister's thoughts.

"I do," my sister nods.

"Then what is with the damn comments when it comes to my relationship."

My sister lifts her shoulders into a shrug, "Daddy Issues."

I roll my eyes and sigh, "You're annoying. Dad treated you well.... daddy issues my fucking ass," I shake my head at her, attempting not to laugh at her comment.

Contrary to popular belief, we always got along with our father, he wasn't the villain in our family story. Our parents went their separate ways but it wasn't for any drastic reason like he was an asshole or cheated, no.

Our parents outgrew each other and weren't on the same path when it came to life— they had different goals and aspirations— they were perfect for each other until they weren't. They served their purpose together and split ways civilly. They can see each other in the street and have a conversation, and they can see each other at family events pertaining to my sister and me, there's no issue there.

"I like her, I do, I just like to aggravate you. Can't believe my little brother is in love."

"Mhm... Well, it would be nice if you were a little nicer to her. I know being nice isn't apart of your personality, but she could use with nice people around her."

My sister isn't the nicest of people sometimes, she is a hard person to read. My sister is highly sarcastic, sassy and very hard to get a grip on whether she likes you or not. There is a fine line between her liking you and disliking you— a fine line that is hard to distinguish.

"I'm nice," my sister defends, "I bought her clothes!"

"Gemma..." I trail off, "She heard our conversation yesterday and thinks you don't approve of her."

"Harry, that was me just looking out for you and making sure you know what you're getting into. I read the news articles, I've read the biographies of past royals—"

"That's different. I don't care what you read and how you keep up with the history of the royals, but be nice to her, and don't give her any doubts."

"She has doubts?" My sister questions.

I nod my head, "She heard our conversation and cried over it, so just keep your comments to a minimum."

"Is that why you're so glum and seem like you've had your firstborn son taken from you?"

I shake my head and leave my cup on the table before I bury my face into my hands and rub my face out of frustration and exhaustion. "I have a girl in there sleeping while her world is turned upside down. I haven't slept because I had the privilege of moving a corpse, and if that isn't enough, some of Anastasia's jewellery was taken from Buckingham and I don't know how to tell her."

"What kind of jewellery?"

"Her expensive pieces and the ones I bought her. I don't know how they took her stuff but didn't manage to take the royal collections."

"Have you checked the pawn shops?"

"Gemma," I begin, "I haven't had time to track down her jewellery, I was busy moving a fucking body."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"I don't want to... maybe? I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing. Starting to think running away with her is the best option."

In all honesty, life would be better off somewhere else, less drama.

"Give me a list of items taken and I'll find them. You should tell her, don't have a closed-off communication, that will make things worse."

"What are you? Sherlock Holmes?" ... "I don't know if she can handle it, Gemma."

I don't want this to be what pushes her over the edge.

"I have a few friends in the jewellery industry, just give me a list and we will see what we can do."

"Where were your jewellery friends when I was looking for a diamond ring?"

"You never told me you were looking for a ring," Gemma responds with a chuckle.

She has a point, I did not tell my sister, sometimes I don't confide in her all the time, she tends to come to me more than I go to her when it comes to things

"Mhm," I hum, "I need you to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity or people around here. If anyone saw us moving the body, they'll come for me or her family."

"Oh, great, so we are at threat?"

"Not you," I shake my head. "Just me, her and her family. Nothing major," I half-smile, trying not to scare my sister, "I'm going to go back to bed now and check on Anna," I dismiss my sister before she can say anything in return.

I walk down the hallway with my thoughts rattling my brain.

How am I meant to tell her someone somehow stole some of her personal items?

It is incredibly creepy that someone managed to get in her room. It had to have been done while we were away or after we had moved them into Windsor. I'm not sure how anyone can get into Buckingham and take her jewels, Buckingham is highly surveillance.

I'm not sure what I'm meant to say to her, "Good morning, I love you... oh, and by the way, some of your jewellery was stolen." — I don't think that would be suitable for a morning wake up call.

As my hand reaches for the doorknob of my old childhood bedroom, my phone rings. I heavily sigh and quickly grab it from the pocket of my sweatpants and quickly answer it, not wanting to wake Anastasia or my mother down the hallway.

"Hello?"

"Harry, my best pal," Matthew cheers on the other end of the phone.

I raise a brow, well aware that he's trying to butter me up, "I saw you a few hours ago, what do you need?"

"We need to have a bonding session."

"We bonded last night," I respond, "I don't think we need to bond," I chuckle, walking towards the living room to pace the area without disturbing anyone.

"I think we do."

"What needs to be done this time?" I sigh, unsure of what entails this bonding session.

Surely it can't be worse than last night.

"We need to report to the king."

"He's in the Netherlands," I remind Matthew.

"I'm aware, he needs us, we have things to take care of."

"What does this entail?"

Matthew goes quiet before he clears his throat, "My engine light is flashing red like a code red sort of flashing, you should look at it. Come outside and look at it," Matthew instructs, forcing me to read between the lines.

Code red... code red... code red means the king needs us to do something under the radar that shouldn't be spoken about over the phone or with anybody else.

I hang up my phone and I walk my way to the front door. I take a break and I open the door to Matthew standing on the porch with an umbrella by his side. "Get your shit, we're flying to the king." Matthew bluntly instructs, not batting an eye with his instructions.

I heavily sigh, "Matthew, what do we have to do?"

"I don't know yet... but it isn't pretty."

"Matthew, I physically can't do any more dirty work, I can barely move my shoulder at this point," I inform Matthew of the fact I'm not meant to be hauling dead bodies off and tampering with evidence to take the media attention away from the King and his family.

I'm meant to still be on bed rest and taking it easy. I wish I was bedridden with morphine, this shit is getting to be too much to have to handle.

Matthew nods his head, "I understand, but this is important, code red sort of important, just like last night was a code red. Let's go, you'll be back tonight."

"Let me tell them I'm leaving," I respond before stepping back inside the house.

I find Gemma at the table with her iPad and a cup of coffee in her hand, her eyes gazing up towards me while I walk closer, "I need to go, tell mum I'll be back tonight, be nice to Anastasia and tell mum to check the security systems, keep the doors locked."

"Do I need to be—"

"No," I cut my sister off, "You don't need to be concerned, just precautionary," I respond, walking away from her before she can say anything.

I step into my bedroom and walk closer to the bed, I sit on the edge beside Anastasia's sleeping body. I gently press my hand to her arm, "Hey, sweetheart," I whisper, slowly waking her up, "Hey, it's just me," I assure her as soon as her eyes open.

"Harry," she mumbles my name sleepily, causing me to smile.

"I have to go, I'll be back tonight, don't worry though, you're safe with Mum. Call me if you need me," I lean down and kiss her forehead, "The gun is in the drawer beside you, Mum and my sister know what to do if anything happens, not that it will, just makin' sure okay?"

Anastasia hums her response and I adjust the covers for her and stand to my feet. Her hand wraps around my wrist and I look down at her, "Be careful, okay?"

I nod my head, "I will, I love you."

"Promise? I love you too."

"I promise," I agree, giving her a small smile before taking my keys and wallet off the side table and stepping out of the bedroom.

♔♔♔

I walk through the front door of my mother's house, more than thankful to finally be home. I feel the warmth wrap around my body and welcome me, and I couldn't be happier. The flight home was fucking cold after we were stuck in the rain for a while, not to mention the drive from the airport to my mothers was just as miserable, Matthews rental car didn't have heat, we both shivered and cussed the world for our problems. We tried to stop at the liquor store to find a bottle of whiskey to warm us up, but they were closed, we even tried to find a hotel but all hotels had no vacancy out here, so we suffered through the cold.

I wander down the hallway and my mother stands to her feet from the couch, instantly coming to me, "You look like hell."

"Thanks, you're so sweet," I chuckle as she takes my shirt and jacket from my arm, "Mum, I can wash it and—"

She cuts me off, "Shut up," my mother shakes her head checking to make sure the pockets are empty, "You're cold, here grab a blanket," my mother frets, stepping away and grabbing a blanket from the couch, wrapping it around me like a little kid.

"Thanks, Mum," I smile at her before I kiss her cheek. "I appreciate you, how was your day?"

"Clearly better than yours," My mum grins and I nod my head in agreement. I think most people have had a better day than I have. "I spent it inside reading and helping your sister sew, I don't know why she wants to sew but she doesn't need to be near my sewing machine," my mother chuckles sweetly to herself.

I can only imagine how it turned out with my sister sewing or attempting to sew. My sister is very talented but there are just some things she shouldn't even try, sewing and most crafts are not one.

"I'd take teaching her to sew over what I had to do, any day."

"What did you have to do?"

I shake my head, "I can't talk about it, I'm not allowed to... maybe later I can tell you, just not right now," I respond.

My mother nods her head and shrugs, she knows there are some things better left unsaid, and today is one of them, "Anastasia has been quiet, slept most the day, I think something is wrong."

"Is she still unwell? I'll check on her."

"She didn't seem too well, but we did talk a little about the wedding. She is excited about it, by the way, but she hasn't had a chance to try on dresses."

"I'll take care of it, if it ever stops raining, I have a plan."

"And that is?" My mother questions curiously.

"I'll tell you more In the morning, goodnight, Mum." I cheekily grin, folding up the blanket and placing it down before walking into the kitchen to make a tea.

♔♔♔

I enter my bedroom and close the door behind me silently, just in case Anastasia is sound asleep. I observe Anna curled up in the bed, the comforter wrapped around her, "Hey," she smiles tiredly towards me.

"Hey, Mum said you still weren't feeling well, thought I'd bring you a tea," I hold up the mug, stepping closer to her and sitting on the edge of the bed beside her while she sits up.

"Thanks, where have you been?"

I grow withdrawn for a moment, unsure of what to tell her, I didn't think of the cover story that I would tell her, it didn't cross my mind. I have been too busy to thin about what to tell her. "Harry?" She takes the cup from my hand and narrows her eyes down on me.

"I'm not allowed to talk about."

"But..."

"I was with your Dad, he says hi," I inform her of her father's request. The brief times I did manage to speak to him, he was insistent that I make sure I pass his message on, "He loves you and can't wait to give you a hug."

"Sounds shady."

She isn't wrong, it is ALL shady; I would prefer to forget about the last few nights that have occurred.

"That's because it is," I nod my head, "It isn't getting any better at this point."

"I told you I think he's losing his mind."

"I would be too if I had angry people coming after me," I mutter, "But it's okay," I quickly assure her, not wanting to scare her any further or cause her more stress. I am doing my best to destress her situations and fix things.

Anastasia heavily sighs and rolls her eyes, "Is there a way to fix the mess he has created?"

"Sort of."

"Then why don't we do it?"

"Anna—"

"Don't leave me in the dark, Harry, it isn't fair. I'm just as affected by this mess."

"You really don't want to know my solution."

"Why? Why are we not going ahead with the solution."

"It's highly illegal."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Anastasia... How do you deal with people who have too much power, such as those in the mafia or with affiliations with the mafia?"

"I don't know, Harry. Stop cat and mousing me, tell me your plan." Anna snaps before pressing her fingers to her temple and rubbing her temple.

I wish I could fix things for her and give her a normal life. I am doing my best but right now, I am failing.

I sigh as she takes a sip of her tea, "Anna... fight fire with fire..."

Her eyes burn with hatred as she glares towards me, her lips screwed into irritation, "You're being annoying."

"Jus' don't worry about it, okay?" I lean over and kiss her forehead. "Let me handle it."

"I don't like how you're handling it."

"Well, I am sorry. How are you feeling?"

"You're changing the subject," Anastasia is prompt to point out the obvious.

There are some things that are better left unsaid. Where I was and what I was doing is best unknown at the moment.

"What happened to you? What's on your shirt?" Anastasia leans forward and presses her hand to my shirt, looking closely.

I look down and grab the white material between my fingers, stretching it so I can what Anna is looking at.

Fuck.

"Oh, Matthew accidentally cut himself trying to open a box and I guess he got his blood on me, no big deal," I lie straight to her face, beginning to unbutton my shirt, wasting no time with sliding it down my arms as I stand to my feet.

"Do you want to lie to me again?"

"No, but I need to talk to you about something, some of your jewellery has been taken."

Anastasia doesn't respond and I turn to gaze at her over my shoulder, "Anna?"

"I heard you. There's nothing I can do, it is just jewellery."

"I will get it back for you, I will do my best, darling, I promise."

"You got mail, it is on the dresser over there," Anastasia points to the dresser and I step closer to it, taking the envelopes in my hand.

"These are for you," I inform her, looking down at the envelopes that seem familiar, they're dressed as they would be If they were going to the palace for her to read and reply back with, but there is something odd about the envelopes, they're all the same with the same handwriting but one is addressed to me. "Where did you get these?"

"Your sister said they were in the mail, I haven't opened it, I assumed mine were letters from the public for me to read and reply to, I just haven't had the energy to do it."

"No, but how did they get here?"

"I am guessing my carrier, Harry," Anastasia responds, "How else would they get here? Throw me mine so I know whether I need to reply to them."

I shake my head, flipping the letters over and seeing that there is no return address, "Baby, these aren't forwarded from the Palace," I inform her, placing hers back down on the dresser and sliding my finger through the edge of the one addressed to me.

"How do you know?"

"I didn't give the Palace a forwarding address for your mail."

"Why not? I still have duties to attend to."

"First of all, you're sick and don't need to be worrying about it, second of all, it isn't safe to have mail forwarded because then people will know where you are."

"You don't need to tell me what I need to be worrying about," Anastasia responds, not too pleased with my comment.

"Okay," I sigh, "Fair point, I was out of line, but nobody needs to know where you are right now," I return, unfolding my letter and opening it up to read what it says.

"I know about you and Anastasia, you can run but you can't hide."

I take a breath and fold the letter back up, grabbing Anastasia's as well in my hand. "What are the letters for?"

I rub a hand over my dark stubble before shaking my head, "Nothing, I'm going to take a shower."

"You've been spending too much time with my father."

"What?" I question as Anastasia pushes the covers off her body and gets out of bed.

"You heard me, you're acting just as shady as he is, and quite honestly, I don't like it."

"You're paranoid, go back to bed," I respond, stepping into the bathroom and flicking the light on, only for Anastasia to follow me. "Are you joining me in the shower?" I raise a brow cheekily, attempting to distract her from the argument she is most likely ready to create— she has a valid reason for being irritated and wanting answers, but I don't need her to worry. I don't want her to be consumed even further by what is happening or by what could happen.

I am trying my best to protect her from the shit show that is currently going on, she has dealt with more than enough and at this point, I am going to do everything that I can to not push her over the fucking edge. I know she is close to the edge and I will be damned if she goes over it.

"I don't think I am paranoid, Harry. I don't like this. Why can't you be honest with me?" Anastasia questions while I turn the knob to begin the water to heat up.

I turn to face her and I step closer to her, "I am being honest, believe me when I say there are some things better left unknown, please don't make this harder than what it already is."

Anastasia pulls her hand away from my own and stares at me relentlessly, "Seems like everything is left unknown until it boils into something bad that can't be hidden."

I nod my head, "What is it you want to know?"

"Where were you?"

"With your Father. We had to have a private conversation, can I have my shower now?"

"This conversation isn't over," Anastasia dismisses me and I heavily sigh as she storms out of the bathroom.

This is bound to be an interesting night. Just when I thought that things could possibly settle down, I now have to face her. I lean on the vanity and stare into the mirror, taking in deep breaths in an attempt to think things through in a way that won't destroy her.

I am not sure how to explain the mail, unfortunately, this isn't the first letter I have received in the last month or so, I don't think it will be the last, but I do know that it seems like whoever is sending these letters knows my every move. Nobody knows that we are here beside her parents and Matthew, the new guy doesn't even know, Matthew put him on paid leave until we need him. The only thing I can think of is someone within the palace staff has managed to figure things out and is trying to leak information... I highly doubt her parents would be behind the letters, although that would be a plot twist, I can't say that it wouldn't be something that could happen, after all, nothing seems to be off the table at this point. It is time I tell Matthew about the mail I have been receiving, and it is time for us to come up with a plan to figure out who is behind it all. At first, I didn't think much of it all, but now with them sending things to my mother's house, it shows they are watching me- they're watching Anna.

I pick up the envelope with Anastasia's name on the front of it and I open it, holding my breath with every inch of the paper that rips between my fingers. I take the piece of paper out, slowly unfolding it before I read the ink scribbled on the paper.

"I know about you and Harry... It will all be revealed soon. Stay alert, Princess, you're next."

I fold the letter back up and I place it in the envelope, not wanting to even see what the other one says. I believe these are empty threats by someone bored and lonely, probably a normal civilian, but at the same time, there is a part of me that is concerned it is one of the people who Is after her father. They're not going to stop until the Ace's get what they want and the King refuses to give up his power and money to them. He has paid his dues and that isn't enough for that money-hungry family.

It could be Henry, I wouldn't be too surprised if he is the one behind this, but I have this feeling the reasons for his previous behaviours weren't based on his logical thinking but more so his mothers. I think his mother was behind a lot of his erratic and psychotic behaviour, I think his mother is the true evil one. I am not remorseful that she is no longer living, quite honestly, it was just a matter of time before she did more damage to Anastasia's family. Anna doesn't know this, but I have been watching Victoria from the moment I met her at the Garden party. On my off days, I would do my best to follow her in an attempt to figure her out, she didn't do many things out of the ordinary, but there were a few red flags that I did take note off, none of which were enough to build too much against her in such a short time. Matthew did his best to keep track of Henry and Victoria and the one thing we can't seem to figure out is... Who is Henry's father?

There is no name attached to the man that the King was talking to, there was never a man around at the Garden event that introduced himself as Henry's father. I have tried to look up birth certificates but I can't find Henry's, I can't even find Victoria's marriage certificate.

I push away from the vanity and take my suit pants off, dropping my clothes to the floor before getting in the shower. The steaming hot water hits my body and I feel a sense of stress leaving my body for a brief moment. My body isn't cold and shivering and all the negative things that I have dealt with in the last two days are washing down the drain, hopefully, to never return.

My shower wasn't as peaceful as I had hoped, my thoughts kept reminding me of everything happening, almost to the point I wish I had an excuse to call the nurse for more morphine, although my shoulder is still painful, there is no way the King or Matthew will allow me to sleep peacefully with morphine and no pain and no worries. Oh, how I took it for granted to be able to sleep all day and not deal with the issues happening in the Royal world.

I step out of the shower and Anastasia is leaning on the doorframe with a blanket wrapped around her body, I raise a brow but I do not say anything as she watches me reach for my towel and wrap it around my lower body. From the way her lips are pressed firmly together and the way her eyes watch my every move, she isn't watching me because she finds me charming and good looking, no, she is watching me because she has things to say or she is trying to read me in an attempt to figure shit out.

I shuffle closer to her and press a kiss to her cheek as I slide past her, still not saying a word. I step towards the clothes my mother bought me and I pull out a clean pair of sweatpants, wasting no time with pulling them up my legs before running the towel through my hair to dry it briefly. I place the towel in the hamper and glance over to Anastasia who has her arms crossed over her chest. "How'd you get the blood on your white shirt? That is going to be hard to get out." Anastasia gestures towards the shirt I let fall to the floor before I went into the bathroom.

I heavily sigh as I pick it up from the floor, "I told you."

"That was a lie, you and I know that."

"Anastasia, please don't," I shake my head. I don't want to explain today to her.

"You're unbelievable."

"Please, don't be mad with me, it is for your own-"

Anastasia rolls her eyes, "Jus' don't worry about it," Anastasia cuts me off, "I hope you're not turning into my father, I really don't." Anastasia informs me as she walks into the bathroom.

"Anna, don't be angry with me," I slump my shoulders as she closes the door.

I fall to the edge of the bed and run my fingers through my hair. I have fucked up with not telling her, I do not blame her for being upset, but as I have said, it is for her safety. I am not sure who I am attempting to convince more, myself or her.

It is hard to draw a line between my job and being her partner, sometimes there isn't even a line, sometimes I have to choose which one I want to take the role of.

After a few minutes of staring at the bathroom door, waiting for her to exit, I force myself to my feet and walk to the door, I knock on the door, "Anna? I know you're mad but you don't need to lock yourself in the bathroom." ... "Anna? Are you okay?" I question, getting no response before I take it upon myself to open the door.

I see Anastasia resting on the floor with her back against the bathtub, "The world doesn't revolve around you," she half chuckles, "Do you really think I would lock myself in here because I am mad?"

"Well... I-, I I am an idiot, we know this already... You okay?"

"I have never been better, I mean, after all, I have no clue what is happening with anything, I fell over a dead body, I have been whisked away from my home indefinitely because people are after my father, and to top it off, my soon to be husband is acting weird and shady."

"I meant how you felt."

Anastasia simply shakes her head and I sit down beside her, I slip my arm around her lower back and she rests her head on my shoulder, "Not trying to argue with you, or be mad with you, Harry." Anastasia softly whispers, "I just hate all of this. I don't want you to be like Dad."

"I know, baby, I know," I nod my head even though she can't see me. "I do too. I am not your Dad. I just work for him and take his orders."

"Are we going to get through all of this, Harry?"

"We will, it'll all be okay," I assure her, attempting to comfort her even though I don't know what'll happen next. I can't tell her that it'll be smooth sailing from here because I don't know if it will, but I do know that she and I will be okay.

"You're not going to want to leave?"

"Of course not, nothing your father causes will make me want to leave. I'm here for the long haul, I'm here to hold your hair when you're sick, even if you're mad at me," I inform her and she gently nudges me.

"I'm not mad," she mumbles.

I'm here to be a shoulder you can cry on, I'm here for it all. I'm here for all the good times and the bad times, I'm here for as long as you'll have me. I'm in this completely. I hate that you're doubting me though."

"Everything is just a mess."

"It'll all be okay, do you want to get in bed? It's a bit warmer than these cold tiles."

"No, I feel sick."

"Okay, we will stay here," I respond, kissing the top of her head.

"You can go to bed, I'll be fine."

"And what fun will that be? Won't have you to steal the covers," I half-heartedly joke with her, trying my best to lighten the mood. "Plus, when the wife says to go back to bed, you never go back to bed, it's a catch. Never leave the wife when she's unwell."

"You left me today."

"I had to and you were asleep."

"Left your sick fiancé to see my father."

"Your father pays my bills," I respond with a small laugh.

"Mhm," Anastasia hums, "Do you love me enough to go to the store and get me anti-nausea meds? this is horrible."

"I would, but everything closes out here at ten. We can call your royal doctor, she has all sorts of great meds."

"You really love her, don't ye'?" Anastasia finally manages to giggle, "Must have been some strong stuff," she nudges me playfully.

"The best sleep of my life, she had me feeling great for the first two days. Then reality hit."

"I don't want to bother her, she'll have to drive up here and it's too much of a hassle." ... "I'll survive. So... will you tell me what's in those envelopes up there?"

"Nope." I honestly respond.

"Nothing is stopping me from getting up and grabbing them."

"You don't have the energy for that, if you did, you'd have done it already."

"Fair point," Anastasia agrees, "I'm sorry about earlier and throwing a fit."

"You have every right to feel how you do and want answers, but it's in your best interest not to know them, it'll stress you out, I rather if you let me stress over it instead, okay?"

"It's hard. Harry. I feel like everything is crumbling around me. I can handle it, I don't need to be protected."

"It is crumbling, I won't lie, it is a shit show."

"Way to go in being comforting."

"I won't lie to you about it, everything is crumbling around us but at the end of the day, you're safe, your parents are safe and it'll all be okay."

"You keep saying that... who are you trying to convince? You or myself?"

"Both," I respond in all honesty. "Love, I want us to have an open communication, I don't want us to hide things."

"Well, that is a little far fetched considering your job, darling," Anastasia points out.

I can't say she is wrong, she has a valid point, but she is missing what I am trying to say, "I do my best to communicate, I only hide things when I need too," ... "Not that it makes it any better, I just-, I want you to know I am doing my best with balancing both and I am not trying to hide things, I just have to sometimes..."

"Shhh, I know, quit fretting, I get it, I do. It is frustrating, but I understand, I just had a moment earlier, Harry. No need to keep worrying over it."

I let out a breath of relief and hold her a little closer to me, grateful that we have the sort of relationship where we can talk things out, we might get mad, but we don't give up, we come to terms with things, we consider each other's feelings and we get through it.

"Harry, we do need to talk about our marriage though."

"What about it?"

"How it will affect you... Harry, I will be Queen within the next year, my father wanted to hand it over by the end of the year, December isn't too far off, I don't know whether he still will pass it down but if he does, your life changes unless we continue to keep it quiet."

"Well, since Henry isn't married to you, I don't think you will be becoming Queen. The whole point was for Henry to gain a higher title than what he already has. And, if you do become Queen, we will cross that bridge when we get there, I think we should hold off going public, but your family should at least know."

"You okay with just taking it day-by-day to see what happens with the crown?"

I'm not sure why she has so many doubts when I have done my best to reassure her, I can only thank my sister for this one. Anastasia wasn't this doubtful until meeting my sister.

"Of course," I nod my head, "But, do I get to wear a crown and a robe like they do in movies?"

"What the fuck kind of movies do you watch? No, Harry. You don't get to walk around with a crown and a cape. Do I walk around with a crown on?" Anastasia questions.

"No... You never wear a tiara, why?"

"Single ladies don't typically wear tiaras unless they are born into the Royal Family as a princess. Tiaras are not worn before 6 p.m.. They are worn on formal white tie events and state occasions such as state banquets. For the most part, I have skipped these events up until the last two years, which, my mother and father have not given me a tiara to wear... Once I am married or Queen, I will wear one or I can wear a crown." Anastasia informs me on the etiquette of crowns and tiaras. I don't know the difference between the two, and due to not wanting to sound like a moron, I don't want to ask her what the difference is.

"So... I don't get a crown?" I curiously question.

I don't give a flying fuck on whether I am entitled to wear a crown or not. I'm not in this for the family jewels, the crowns, estates or anything. Quite frankly, none of that means a bloody thing to me, I'm in this for Anna.

"You can wear a gold coronet."

I gasp, "I don't want a knockoff crown." I respond, unsure of what a coronet is, but it sounds close enough to a crown. I can only assume it's a step down from a crown.

"Fine," Anna chuckles, "I will bestow upon you a crown you can wear. I am sure there is one in the family, we have many jewels and crowns."

"Great, and can I also require a robe?"

Anna laughs, "Don't push your luck."

"Can I have my own crown?"

"For my coronation, the royal jeweller can make you your bloody crown."

"They should match, somehow... You know?"

I wonder how long she'll keep this conversation with me, I don't mean any of it, like I've said, I don't give a rats ass about the crown, I'm currently trying to keep her occupied in an attempt to make her feel better.

"I love how you're more interested in your crown than the fact you will have a lot of power."

"How will I have power?"

I have enough power as it is, any more and it might get to my head.

"Sweetheart, everyone will have to curtsey to you... Every member of the royal family will have to bow or curtsy to you.... But the future Queen thinks it's time for bed, sitting on this cold floor isn't going to cut it."

I stand to my feet and offer my hand to help her up, she presses her hand with my own and I gently pull her to her feet, "I do have another question though regarding the royal ways," I begin.

"Mhm," Anna hums as we begin to walk out of the bathroom and into my bedroom.

"If we were to have kids.... How do we raise them?"

"Already anticipating children?"

"No, you mentioned while I was carrying you out of the tunnel that we weren't having kids, but if we do... do we have to raise them royally?"

"Uhm...." Anastasia pauses to think for a moment, looking over at me, "We will decide how we raise our children, I will leave the monarch before I allow them to tell me what to do with our hypothetical children. If I'm Queen, I call the shots."

"Mhm.... And will they be raised in a royal way? Will they have a title?"

"Unless we choose otherwise.... I don't know if I want kids to have to go through what I have as a royal. I wouldn't strip them of their title but I don't know... it's something to think about after we are married, we've barely managed that yet." ... "Let's just go to bed," Anastasia smiles over at me and I nod my head with a smile.

I'm more than happy to get in bed and fall between the sheets with her beside me, but I am distracted by my phone vibrating against the side table. I walk over to it and read the messages on my screen, "I'll be back in a minute," I inform Anna before I step out of the bedroom and walk down the hallway to the front door.

I open the front door and stare at Matthew, "Look, Matthew, if you want me to leave again, I'm not, I haven't slept much in the last 48 hours, Anna's sick and I'm not going to—"

"Relax," Matthew interrupts me, "I'm not on your doorstep for another job, I'm here to tell you I'm patrolling the house and watching so you can relax."

"Oh."

"But I'm glad you're defensive and don't want to leave your girlfriend while she's sick, it's kinda cute when you're not the dick of a security guard."

"Knock it off, you're making me sound soft."

"You are," Matthew chuckles, "At least with her, it's good, you're getting softer and better at being her partner and not her security guard." Matthew points out and I nod my head. It's a transition sometimes to go from a security guard who can't show much emotion to her boyfriend.

"Are you done?" I laugh.

Mathew nods, "Is she okay?"

"She's fine, with everything that has happened, her being a little under the weather is a better outcome than her emotionally spiralling, I think it's the stress that has finally caught up with her."

"Does she need the doctor?"

"No," I shake my head, "I will put letters in the letterbox, I need you to take them, read them, and find out who's sending them. They know I'm here and I don't want to take any chances. They're involving Anna now," I inform Matthew of all the letters that I've received over the month, plus the ones Anastasia saw that were sent to my mother's house.

I've done my best to keep the letters to myself and Matthew, not wanting to make something out of nothing.

"Do you have any leads yet?"

"No... I assume the Ace's but Victoria is dead so that leaves who? Henry? His unknown father? Their mob? Matthew, the mafia aren't people I want on my ass or the crooked government officials the king knows."

"I'll see what I can find out, just keep her safe and inside."

I nod my head, having no intentions of stepping outside with her unless it's the back garden. "If you don't mind, I'm going back inside where it's warm."

"Try not to get too soft on me while I'm out here patrolling and keeping your ass safe."

"Ya, about time you watch my ass instead of me watching yours," I respond before stepping back into the house.

A Few Days Later.

I overhear the sound of the glass doors open as I stand on the back porch, gazing at the garden that is beginning to frail and change colours with the changing of seasons. I turn around and offer my mother a small smile as she closes the door behind her, but she doesn't smile back at me.

I cock my head to the side and watch as she fidgets with her hands, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip— she wants to say something, but she doesn't know-how.

"Just spit it out," I distract her from her anxiousness.

She shakes her head and sits down on the patio furniture, crossing her leg over her knee before tapping her fingers on the armrest, "I know I'm not allowed to ask but..." my mother trials off and I raise a brow, unsure of what question she's about to ask. All I can gather is that it's about my job. She's aware I can't discuss everything with her, but that doesn't always mean she doesn't attempt to ask. "I saw your shirt."

"What shirt?"

"The one you wore the other night."

Oh, fuck. Here we go with that white fucking shirt.

I nod my head, gesturing for her to continue. "It isn't your blood, if it was then you'd have a wound."

"Who says I don't?" I question, catching my mum off guard.

My mother stares at me and narrows her eyes down onto me, she's not thrilled and doesn't want to participate in my sarcasm and half-assed answers. My mother stands to her feet, steps closer and takes it upon herself to lift my shirt, inspecting my body.

I gently push her hand away, "If you don't mind, it's quite chilly," I adjust my shirt to cover my torso.

"Harry—"

"Mum," I cut her off, "I already had it out with Anastasia over this, please don't ask questions or read into this."

My mother shakes her head at me, "I can't just not read into it... Surely there's an explanation."

I nod my head, "There is, but I can't give it to you."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have blood-stained shirts in the laundry for me to wash."

"I love you, and I appreciate everything you do for me... But, in my defence, I didn't ask you to wash my clothes or that shirt, I was meant to throw it away. But apparently, everyone wants to see it."

"I'm not a fan of this."

"Join the club, you and Anastasia can have weekly meetings about it," I mutter before heavily sighing, "Look, maybe later I can discuss things with you, but right now I can't. On other news, since the wedding people are setting up, I'd really appreciate it if you and Gemma could participate in this... Help Anastasia pick a dress and get an idea of what she wants."

My mother glares at me, "I know you planned this."

"What?"

"You have a wedding designer here bringing in dresses and everything else to keep her mind off of whatever the hell you've been up to and whatever it is you're planning to do."

"While you are helping her with a dress, I'll simply be doing paperwork," I inform my mother, covering the fact that she's partially correct. I had planned to surprise Anna with a wedding dress designer for a while, it just happened that right now suites all scenarios, it'll keep her occupied and away from social media and it'll give me time to do 'paperwork.'

Of course, my paperwork will include doing some investigating on the Ace's and the mafia they're involved with, along with figuring out the whole situation with Victoria in the tunnels, and if I have enough time, I will hopefully manage to figure out where the fuck we are going to go from here. Anastasia and I can't stay with my mother forever, at some point we will have to move Anna back to Buckingham or one of the other palaces. With us getting married, I'd think it's suitable that we have a proper conversation about where we plan to live, obviously she's going to want to choose Buckingham or the palace in Ireland but I think we should have a nice place away from the royal family, perhaps a little cottage. We need a place that's just for me and her that has no royal affiliation to it.

"When exactly are you getting married and where?"

"Where and whenever she picks."

"Aren't you concerned they'll tell the media?"

"Confidentiality contract," I respond, "I'm going to go check on Anastasia," I dismiss the conversation, mainly because my mothers dagger eyes brutally murder me and I can't stand it.

I walk inside and make my way down the hallway catching Anastasia just as she's stepping out of the bedroom, "Good morning," I smile, kissing her cheek instantly before bringing her into a warm embrace. She mumbles a good morning into me and I chuckle. "How are you feeling? I just put the kettle on for tea."

"I feel a lot better, still a little nauseous but it's bearable."

"You look better than the last few days, no offence... I have a surprise for you," I inform her, watching as she looks at me with curiosity.

"Mhm, what is it?" Anastasia hums.

I intertwine her fingers with mine and lead her to the end of the hallway where the dress designer has been setting up. I open the door and step in the room, allowing Anastasia to see the countless wedding dresses on wracks lined against the wall, "Anastasia, this is Charlotte, a creative director of a luxury fashion house. She will assist you with dresses and if you can't find one will help design one, if you wish. Charlotte, this is my soon to be wife, Anastasia," I introduce the two ladies, stepping back as they greet each other.

"I brought a few dresses for you to look at, try on and see what you like if none of them works we can literally go to the drawing board, whatever you envision is, is what I want to create," Charlotte sweetly informs Anastasia, "I'm so sorry, I didn't curtesy," Charlotte stammers and I can't help but chuckle to myself.

It never gets old when people get bent out of shape over curtseying. "Please," Anna quickly shakes her head, "There's no need, I'm not a princess, I'm just someone who wants the perfect dress," Anastasia informs Charlotte.

"I'll leave you two to it... Mum and Gemma will come in and help if you're okay with that, thought you might want some company?"

"That would be really nice, thank you for this," Anastasia smiles towards me before stepping closer to me and kissing my lips.

It's the least I could do. All she wants is a sense of normalcy, she doesn't want the big fancy royal wedding with spectators, she isn't asking for more than having a dress and getting married. I'll do everything I can to make sure she gets the wedding of her dreams, even if it's a small ceremony in the back yard with the sheep.

Anastasia pulls on my hand as I go to walk out and I stop on my tracks, she grows quiet for a moment before leaning up and whispering, "I don't know if I can afford a designer dress, Harry, without dipping into the royal—"

I gently cut her off with a kiss, "Money isn't a factor."

"But."

"It's covered, no matter what you pick, it's covered. Get the dress of your dreams, don't worry about money or whether the royals will pay for it, I have it covered."

"Harry—"

I shake my head, "Don't worry," I kiss her lips again before walking out of the room, well aware that she'll stand there and argue with me all day if I'd let her.

While Anastasia is occupied with the wedding with my mother and sister to soon be right behind her, I slip out of the house and make my way to the parked car on the street. I open the door and relax on the passenger side, "Bloody Hell, do you not know what heat is?" I challenge Matthew with a gasp, leaning forward and turning the heat on, "Seriously, I know you're older but heat was invented many years ago," I continue, pressing my hand to the vents.

"Harry, it is not that cold."

"There's frost on the grass, it is ten degrees this morning." I point out the fact the grass is insignificantly wet and there is a slight mist of fog lingering from the overnight temperatures.

"Well, put on a jacket," Mathew smirks, "Besides the point, you're late, the King has already called."

"I had to occupy Anna... I am glad I missed the call, I don't even want to know what he wants now."

I am starting to have this yearning of avoiding the King at all costs, but I obviously can't, he pays my bills and I am in love with his daughter. I will never get away from him.

"You don't get to pick and choose when he is the boss."

I sigh and look at Mathew, "Anna is being weird with me since I won't tell her what happened, I can't do more shady shit," I inform Mathew, "At least let me marry her before causing problems, she is less likely to leave if we are married."

Mathew laughs and shakes his head, "That sounds like a great relationship. Either tell her or lie."

"I don't want to do either. The king said he would kill us if we told anyone..."

The King was very specific with his instructions.

"He can't hurt a fly, he has us do his dirty work, Harry. Do what I do."

"Lie?" I question, unsure of what he tells his wife when he suddenly has to leave or when he is never home.

"Tell her you can't talk about things because what was discussed is confidential."

"That would be great but my future wife is the future Queen and she saw the blood on my shirt, that is the issue. She wants to know where the blood came from."

"Next time, get rid of evidence you moron," Mathew shakes his head, "Look, tell her someone was hit by a car and you saved them."

"Oh, yes, let me dig myself into more of a hole," I huff, looking down at my phone and scrolling through my contacts, "The private detective I hired to keep an eye on Henry hasn't found anything, Henry has been staying at a cottage an hour outside London. A small two-bedroom cottage and a vegetable patch."

"Where?"

" Singleton, but I don't know why he has tried to go off the radar and hide... Took a while for the lead."

"And what are you going to do with this lead?" Mathew asks.

"Well, nothing. I can't do anything, if I do, it would be stupid, he would instantly link me to Victoria's death, I have to stay quiet... Plus, he isn't doing anything. Actually, do you think he had anything to do with Victoria's death?" I curiously begin to question.

There isn't much of reasons for Henry to suddenly go into hiding, I didn't threaten him besides when he tried to take Anna's horse, he got away with his psychotic behaviour, in fact, I think the King gave back the horse without Anastasia knowing— not that she would care— I don't think she will ever get on a horse again.

Mathew stares at me for a moment and thinks, "Unlikely, it is his mother, what motive would he have? Ask the detective where he was that night, plus, nobody knows about Victoria yet, there haven't even been reports of her missing, the media is quiet."

"A little too quiet," I mutter, "Anyway, what did the King have to say?"

"We are on media duty, we need to leak a story or two."

"What are we leaking?" I ask.

"This is the part you're not going to like... He wants to use Anastasia as a decoy from everything. He wants the media and the people to believe that she has stepped away from the palace to focus more on her royal duties privately and to better grasp things."

I roll my eyes, "Not the first time he uses her as a decoy. Why can't the actual Queen be used? Why is it, Anna?"

"Well, the Queen isn't as popular, quite frankly, at this point, nobody gives a damn what the Queen does. Everyone is interested in Anastasia, you are aware she will be Queen soon? She is big news."

"Whatever," I hum, "So we have to leak stories that aren't true to suit the King's narrative? Can you do it? I don't want Anna hating me much more. I don't want a divorce before I m even married." I ask Matthew as he begins to drive up the road.

"I can," he nods, "But you have to take the next call from the King."

I agree and nod my head, taking the file on his dashboard and beginning to read through it to get an understanding of what the King wants and what exactly we need to do.