The papers fall from my hands, hitting the floor before I step over them, "Excuse me," I mutter, hurrying past Harry and finding my way to the bathroom. My hands grapple with clutching the edge of the sink as I bow my head in defeat.

This can't be happening.

One hand stays grasped to the edge, and the other holds my hair back, my stomach twisting at the realisation of everything.

The door creaks open, and Harry steps into the bathroom, thoughtfully pushing my hand away and holding my hair back for me.

"This is why you need a break." Harry sighs, stroking my back while my stomach violently turns and the remainder of my afternoon tea makes an awful appearance.

I take a breath and press a hand to my stomach, straightening my back slightly, "Now isn't the time for sly remarks," I murmur, closing my eyes for a moment, another wave hitting me harshly.

I lift my head again, taking another breath and praying that it's the last time I throw up.

Harry lets go of my hair as I lean back on him, my energy depleting extremely quickly.

We are stuck. Harry and I are bound to the monarchy with no way out. "He tied me to the monarch?" The words leave my mouth, and Harry nods his head as I gaze at him through the mirror, "We are stuck in it... Why'd he do this?" I softly question, tears falling down my blushed cheeks, "I can't end it."

Harry wraps his arm around me carefully, "Sweetheart, I think the point was so that the monarch can't end at all. Your Dad issued letters patent."

"The only person who can end this shitshow is my hypothetical child?"

"That's how it seems." Harry nods.

"The only way anyone can cause this monarch to end is if I have a baby? Not even Pippa can end it? Parliament can't even end this fucking shit?"

Harry again shakes his head, "The monarch can only end with your kid."

"Our," I correct him, "Our hypothetical kid."

"What do we do, Anna?"

I take a moment before I take a breath. I step away from his embrace, and I turn to face him, leaning against the counter, and I smile up at him softly, "We rule the monarch with an iron fist, Harry."

"Excuse me?" Harry's eyes grow big.

"We do what was intended, to rule the monarch and keep it thriving. But you're going to call for a dissolution of Parliament. Every seat in the House of Commons will become vacant."

"Why? Pippa said parliament seats couldn't change."

"She is wrong. Call for the dissolution, Harry. Then we can work on getting her disbanded as Primeinsiter."

"We can't get rid of her. We can't vote; royals stay neutral in that branch."

"Harry, I am aware of how this works. Please, listen to me, clear the seats, order new parliament officials. It's a strategic dissolution."

"So, now you want to end Parliament since we can't end the monarch?"

I nod my head, "You and I both know some of the people who want me dead are currently members of parliament, call for re-election, so they lose their seats. If they are not voted in, you can figure out how to keep them at bay and away from us," I respond.

"Isn't there a rule about Parliament only being dissolved at a certain time?" Harry asks.

I shrug my shoulders, "Parliament can be dissolved at the beginning of the 25th working day before a general election... The Fixed-term Parliaments Act, which you are also going to sign and change today. Before the Fixed-term Parliaments Act, the government had the power to call elections at a time of its choosing, and I want that back."

"I hate being the middle man," Harry groans, "This is fucking ridiculous."

"Then let me have the crown back."

"Talk to your mother about it, Anna. I don't have a say over having the fucking crown. I have tried to hand it back... Pippa and your mother have not allowed me."

"The best thing about you being King is that you can sign whatever the fuck you want and not listen to them. You can hand me the crown; you just have to sign it on over or find a loophole as my father did."

"I much prefer my daily job as security than as King."

"Listen to me and do this, Harry. When Parliament is dissolved, all unfinished parliamentary business falls, including bills that have not received Royal Assent. Bills cannot be carried over. Whatever plans any of them have will fail. If I can't abolish this circus, I will join them and end it for them and take back the monarch... You are either with me or against me, Harry."

"I am with you, Anastasia," Harry responds instantly, "I will start the process of everything, not that I know what the fuck I am doing," Harry trails off, "Any other requests while I am here? Perhaps request my blood?"

"Oh, ha, ha, you're funny," I roll my eyes, "That's all for now, I will keep thinking of Royal assents I want you to part take in... Until then, I have to make my first appearance as Queen, even though that is far from the truth. Are you attending?"

"I am," Harry nods, "Matthew has Oliver and myself on your service."

"Great... and if you don't wish to participate in my plan to take back control of the monarch, we can always have a baby and abolish the monarchy."

"Uhm..." Harry trails off, "No. All due respect, but if we have a kid, I'd rather we talk about it properly, and right now, I don't want a baby in this mix, no, no— and no." Harry shakes his head sternly.

"I'm sure parliament would love it."

"I'm sure that would piss them off and make things worse, no."

"Great, so you'll be on my side?"

"Yes. Anna. I have always been on your side. Now I'm going to take a nap until your event. Please, for the love of God, don't start shit, don't make any plans, don't do anything irrational like you did the night with Henry. I don't need more blood on my hands, literally and metaphorically."

"I will be the perfect princess everyone knows me to be."

"You say that with an evil look to your eyes... I really don't need to do a protocol."

I shrug my shoulders and step closer to him, "You have my word, I won't start shit," I smile, drawing small circles on my stomach, feeling a bit more relaxed, oddly.

"I am confused as to what made you switch from hating the monarch to wanting to control it again?"

I take a breath and shrug my shoulders, "Sometimes you just have to play the cards you are dealt and hope that the hand you have is the winning hand."

"But you suddenly flipped your switch, Anna... Do I need to be concerned? What happened to the Princess that wanted nothing more than to leave and have a normal life?"

"She realised that it would never happen. This is what I was born for, Harry. I have tried to get away so many times, and I can't. I have no choice but to deal with it. You can still leave. You don't have to be stuck in this, Harry. You have an out."

Harry shakes his head and takes my left hand with his, "Anna," Harry begins with a soft breath, his thumb rubbing over where my rings would rest if I were able to wear them. He reaches his other hand up to my neck where he follows the thin chain and pulls out my rings from under my shirt, "I gave you this ring and proposed for a reason, I put that wedding band on, for a reason, I wear my wedding band, for a reason. I love you, and I want to be with you. I don't want an out. I don't want to leave. I can deal with the monarch. It does not scare me." Harry informs me sweetly and calmly, "I may not be able to tell the world I love you or act upon things right now, but I don't want to not live life without being your partner, even if you do despise me for taking your damn crown," Harry chuckles, breaking the slight tension in the space between us.

I do not despise him for taking the crown. I will admit that him having ownership of it is a better option. I am still in no headspace to hold such power, and I am still struggling with daily activities. Royal life isn't easy, but it is much more challenging when you lose your father but gain a monarch to run that you are not ready for. My father may have prepared me in a royal status sort of way to run the place, but I was not mentally or emotionally prepared. I don't think anyone can be emotionally prepared for the loss of a loved one.

"Are you sure?"

Harry nods his head, "I am more than sure, sweetheart. Are you okay? I still don't understand how you changed your mind about the monarch."

I shrug my shoulders, "I don't know if I am truly okay. Today's news physically made me sick," I admit, "But this is my family legacy. I would be destroying what generations have built. My father did build a great monarch... It may have some evil people involved in it, but the people are thriving, and the country is doing well. I can sit here and wish to abolish and destroy it all because of my own bitterness, or I can figure out how to lead without being held back."

Harry smiles softly and nods his head, "It is good to see you coming to your power as Queen, darling.

"I have a great husband and King to back me up."

"No, baby. You don't have a King. You have a husband. I am merely the husband to have your back."

I shake my head, "No, Harry. If I am reigning Queen, you will be known as King. I will be changing that. You will have that title. I can be Queen and reign on my own, don't get me wrong, but I want a King by my side."

"We can cross that bridge when we get there... But I want to know when the staff will know about us, and I am tired of hiding us. Surely the staff have figured it out."

I shake my head, "The staff do not know, but you are still the talk of the ladies," I laugh, "A lot of the ladies keep their eyes on you. Rumour has it that there is a pool on how long it takes you to get a girlfriend."

"What?"

"The staff, they make assumptions about you since you're so private. Some think you have a secret girlfriend, and others think that you're just a workaholic."

Harry rolls his eyes, "Jokes on them, I have a secret wife, and I am a workaholic. Do they just sit and talk about me to you?"

I nod my head, "Yeah, I learn new things about you all the time." I chuckle, unsure how he doesn't know that many of the female staff swoons over him.

"And you don't mind?"

"No, I find it amusing," I respond, "I don't know how they haven't figured out we are together. You are always in my room."

"I am security," Harry shrugs, "I think a few of them know. They just keep quiet. I know Grace has an idea. She keeps smirking at my ring."

"Oh well, I don't care, I am unsure how the people will react, but I guess we will find out. I need to get ready for the event... I am giving a speech."

"Mhm," Harry hums, "So Pippa told me. How do you feel about that?"

"I think I am okay, considering I just threw up a handful of times," I sarcastically respond. "I uh... I haven't seen the speech. I am not allowed to write my own. They don't trust me." I roll my eyes, "I much prefer if I could write things myself. I don't like being dictated to."

Harry steps to the side and grabs one of the face towels that are folded neatly. He runs it under the cold water before touching it to my cheeks lightly, "I don't think you're okay at all. You don't have to do this speech." Harry taps the damp towel to my forehead, my eyes closing as it soothes me. "You look like you need to sit down for a few minutes," Harry softly enlightens me, and I nod my head in agreement.

My body feels weak and exhausted.

Harry guides me back to the bedroom, being overly protective. I sit on the bed and rest against the soft pillows. Harry sits beside me on the edge and dabs my forehead, "Seriously, if you're not up to it, you don't have to do the speech."

"Harry, I have to be a big girl and face the fear. One way or another. It's all just a lot to handle," I sigh, "Will you just ask my lady maids to come in an hour later than usual? So I can lay down."

Harry nods, "Yes," He leans over and kisses my forehead, "Try to relax."

"It's hard when the damn papers are on the floor and dictate my future."

Harry shakes his head, "We will figure it out. One way or another, it'll be okay."

He is right; one way or another it'll work out the way it's meant to. What's meant to be will always be. Right now, what's meant to be is taking my world and turning it upside down.

♚ ♚ ♚

With heavy breaths, I try my best to compose myself and steadily speak, but with every word I am forced to utter, I feel a heaviness in my chest that's threatening to break my walls of resistance and cause me to break. This speech is the first public speech that I have addressed, and it is turning out to be a lot harder than I had anticipated.

I hold back my tears, aware that cameras everywhere and several sets of eyes cast upon me. It was too soon for me to have to do this. Speaking about my father is still raw and cuts me like a knife. I shouldn't have let Pippa coerce me into delivering a speech, and I should have taken my time with healing and working through things. The monarch and the expectations can wait. My mental and emotional health is more important than addressing the public and all the national leaders who acquire my attention.

I sense a hand to the small of my back, and I take my eyes away from the paper in front of me. I glance to my side and see Harry beside me, my other half, my shoulder to cry on and the person who holds me up when I'm down and praises the happiness with me. "I can't," I whisper, choking up with tears, finally allowing them to cascade down my cheeks. I attempt to turn into him so that I can't be viewed grieving, but I can't wholly hide, I can't lean in for a hug and sob like I want to. I have to remember the boundaries between the royal and security guard as the people are viewing.

Harry doesn't say anything. He naturally places an arm around me, leaving no gaps between us before moving the paper closer to him. Harry clears his throat and, without warning, begins to continue my speech for me. "He was an honorary member of society, a king that will be remembered for his devotion to the nation but most of all will be remembered as a loving father and doting husband."

I subtly wipe a few of my tears away, doing my best to hold firm as a future Queen. Coronation day hasn't arrived, so I'm technically not Queen until then, not that it matters considering it will be Harry's coronation. I stand before my people, vulnerable and emotional, something that is frowned upon and has been for years. It is rare to see a royal display emotions other than pleasure and power, especially when broadcasted over news outlets and social media. A royal is to uphold a particular disposition. We aren't meant to come across as weak. As I stand here, with tears, I'm aware that I may seem inadequate, but I'd rather appear weak and show the world I have emotions than hide them. Anyone in my shoes would still be mourning the loss of their father, no matter his status, for me to uphold the image that I'm absolutely fine and emotionless is not what I want to support. I do not want to be Queen and viewed as though I have no emotions. Raw emotions show character. It teaches people it's okay to feel things, it's okay to break, no matter who you are— it doesn't make me any less of a Queen. For those who look up to me, I don't want them to observe me as just another royal or another one who follows all protocols and traditions, and I will not sustain the image of perpetually being emotionless. I am Queen, and I am human.

The speech ends, and Harry guides me away from the small podium, escorting me to escape behind closed doors, where I find a place to sit and compose myself, "Thank you," I breathe out, "It was too soon," I whisper, wiping a few tears away from my eyes, doing my best to hold myself together. This is not how I wanted things to go. I didn't want to break down and for Harry to have to save me from emotional wreckage.

Harry bends down to my level, placing a hand on my knee, "You did a grand job."

"I started to stutter and cried. I balled my eyes out, Harry." I don't feel proud of myself because I couldn't finish the speech and honour my father in the way he deserves.

"And? That shows that you're human; you're normal. Us normal people stutter and have emotions, baby," Harry winks, managing to pull a chuckle from me, "Pippa did that on purpose, to have you break down in front of people..." Harry trails off.

I would love to say I'm surprised, but I'm not. I'm the centre of attention with the media spotlight, and it would make her night to have me breaking down. Anything in an attempt to continue to prove I'm unfit to take the crown. That's probably her plan, prove I am incompetent and make sure I never have that royal power. Unlucky for her, Harry is on my side and not hers as she thinks.

"How kind," I sigh, "Thanks for saving me."

"Always," Harry responds, "Wipe the tears away, put on a smile and show them the tough Queen I know you can be, don't let that speech or Pippa bring you down, okay?"

"Are you giving me a pep talk?" I stifle a laugh as I wipe away a few more tears.

"Someone has to," Harry responds, standing back to his feet and offering his hand to help me off the chair and to my own feet. He brings me in for a hug and holds me close, "Pippa wants you to fail. She's watching," Harry murmurs, "I love you."

I draw away and nod my head, mouthing an 'I love you, too' before taking a step away from him, well aware that it's only a matter of seconds before someone bursts through the door to summon me. I adjust my dress and posture, taking a deep breath and looking for Harry's nod and gesture for me to head back to the same room that left me weeping. I stroll in, head held high, my heels hammering the marble flooring and keeping my composure as a strong-willed, calm and collected woman.

I make my rounds by talking to different people and allowing certain photographers at the event to take my photo. With everything that has happened, we need some excellent media coverage within the royals. I am sure Victoria's death will continue to be in the headlines. I'm sure somewhere down the line, the issue that happened at the palace with Henry's doppelgänger will arise and spark significant headlines. Royal scandals and murders seem to be the headlines everyone enjoys. I will not be the following headline or humiliation. The media will not predict my downfall or portray me as weak.

As I politely dismiss one of the diplomats, Pippa makes her presence known and offers me a smile, "May I hug you?" She questions and I shake my head.

"Security isn't allowing me to be touched," I lie, not wanting Pippa's hug nor anyone else's. I'm not much in the mood to be touched.

Oliver nods his head, "Correct, strict orders, she isn't to be touched."

Pippa rolls her eyes, "Harry's orders?"

"No," Oliver instantly responds before I can, "Head of security, please respect the decisions," Oliver narrows his eyes towards Pippa, not caring that she is a government official. Harry has trained him well, I see.

Pippa nods her head in agreement, "I just wanted to say that the speech was lovely."

"You wrote it."

"You're very hostile, Anna," Pippa sighs.

"You set me up." I point out the obvious.

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Pippas' voice is soft as she cocks her head to the side. "It was kind of Harry to step up, but now people will start to speculate," she trails off into a whisper, making sure nobody can hear her. God forbid if the world knows I have a steady relationship with someone who isn't royal.

"Perhaps if I weren't forced to make the speech, he wouldn't have had to step up and comfort me. I don't appreciate the events of this evening."

"Anna, it is not my fault," she shakes her head, "I followed procedure. It was time you spoke."

"And as it is time for me to walk away from this conversation, good evening, Pippa," I dismiss the conversation, walking away before either of us can speak any further. I do not care for what she has to say right now or for the excuses. I'm sure she will blame my mother and say my mother was partly to blame for the speech. Which, I'm sure my mother agreed to the address and for me to speak tonight, and I believe they were both wrong for forcing it upon me and not letting me grieve, but my anger is towards Pippa for now.

♚ ♚ ♚

For the evening, I stood my ground; I didn't let anything bother me or break me down— I didn't run to Harry or have him, or Oliver devise an escape plan— I survived my first event without my father and as QUEEN... Just not officially. I know I can do this, it may be arduous, and it may take everything I have inside me, but I can do this. It does make it a little more manageable to know that I have Harry beside me if I need him. That alone gives me a little extra power and support. Sometimes, all someone needs is a bit of confidence and support to thrive.

I escort across the grounds with Oliver, my heels in my hand, while my other hand prevents the hem from dragging across the soft grass that smells of sweet saturnine with every step I take. For the first night in a while, there are no battering winds that howl until the early hours, there is no bitter chill, it finally feels bearable to be outside without the need of heavy coats and wraps, perhaps this is a short-lived moment, but I will take it and relish in it the best that I can. Oliver gently grabs me and pulls back on me, drawing me behind him. "Don't come any further," Oliver shouts, his hand reaching for his gun.

"What is it with the men always pulling a gun on me, geez," Madeleine responds sarcastically.

"Announce yourself formally," Oliver responds.

"Princess Madeleine Noelle Veil of Denmark. Anastasia, tell him who I am," Madeleine huffs, holding her hands up as Oliver continues to stare her down.

"She's fine, Oliver." I chuckle.

"That's not what Harry said,'' Oliver responds, causing me to laugh. I am not surprised that Harry and Madeleine don't get along.

"It's fine," I assure Oliver, "Harry has already screened her. She was here for the funeral, remember?" I try to jog Oliver's memory.

Oliver nods his head and steps aside, allowing me to walk closer to Madeleine, "Why are you out here?" I softly ask, looking around, unsure why she is by herself and unaccompanied by a guard.

"Fresh air, Harry said I could come out; he is watching from the doors," Madeleine gestures towards the Palace doors a little further from our position. "They burned down the Palace, though."

"Who?" I softly question, walking beside Madeleine.

Madeleine lifts her shoulders into a shrug, "I don't know. Louis seems to think it is the people who are causing everyone havoc."

"Why would they target your Palace? I am sorry. Which one? Charlottenlund Palace?"

Madeleine shakes her head, "Amalienborg, lucky nobody was there. It was intentionally set. Mum and Dad were meant to be there."

"Perhaps it was an accident, surely?" I suggest, unsure of who would purposely do such a thing to Amalienborg. Madeleine's family have nothing to do with us British royals; they stay mutual and don't cause issues— They're the quiet royals that don't mind being under the radar— They show up for special events and go on about their business.

Madeleine heavily sighs, and I push the Palace doors open, not allowing Oliver to open the door for me, "So, you and Louis have been talking?" I change the subject, not sure how to go about the issue with her Palace catching fire. I don't fully believe that it was deliberate— there has to be some logical explanation.

Madeleine grows quiet, walking into the Palace behind me, "Madeleine?"

"He is lovely to talk to, a good man."

"Stay away from him, Madeleine," I warn her, not wanting to see either of them get hurt or drag me into their mess.

"What? Why?"

I raise a brow and shake my head, "He is my childhood best friend. I can't choose between you both, so if you break up, I can't choose."

Madeleine laughs, "Who said anything about dating?"

"Whatever the two of you are doing, I am sure it is more than talking," I mutter, knowing both of them too well. They're stuck in a palace together on the same floor, and I highly doubt they're talking about royal duties and discussing policies.

"I beg to differ," Madeleine shakes her head, "He is good company."

"Whatever you do, be nice to him."

"You have little faith in me."

"You tend to be intimidating, be nice. Do you need me, or are you just roaming the palace?" I softly question as we reach my floor. I'm not trying to dismiss her rudely or be a horrible friend, but I think she'd prefer to find comfort in Louis than me.

"Roaming," she responds, walking off before I can say anything further.

I glance towards Oliver and raise a brow, "Do you think she and Louis are a thing?"

Oliver shrugs his shoulders, "I know nothing and see nothing."

"Mhm," I hum, not convinced, "I know that's a lie, but for now, I'm going to leave it alone. I don't know if I want to know," I chuckle and shake my head, "Thank you for your service," I respond, stepping into my room and closing the door behind me.

I smile over at Harry and walk towards him, "I did it, I survived, and I didn't need you."

"Ouch," Harry laughs, and I sigh, realising how my words came out. "I know," he shakes his head before I can say anything, "I'm proud of you."

"Me too," I grin, stepping closer to him and kissing him sweetly. He pulls me closer, and I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the sweet kiss.

I have missed the taste of his lips and the burning energy that spreads like wildfire and ignites my soul. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me into his lap, where I straddle him at his hips, his hands roaming my body while mine eagerly moves to his button-down, flicking each button before he draws his honey lips from mine. He leans closer and presses his lips to my neck, causing me to go weak instantly. I tilt my head to the side and press my hands to his shoulders, the soft kisses down my slender column already causing my head to spin. I feel him bite down gently before pulling away with a devious smirk and bright, cunning eyes. He drops his hand to my thigh and glides his hand against my soft skin, ever so slowly and delicately, ignoring my dress and inching closer and closer to the material of my underwear. He dances along with the lace band, teasing me before I harshly kiss him, needing to feel him, one way or another. He caresses the lace, causing my breath to hitch when I feel it move slightly to the slide. I pull away from his lips and see him smirk, his eyes gleaming with delight at my eager anticipation and my yearning. "No foreplay, no teasing, let's go," I shake my head, my hand moving to his pants and unzipping them. Harry chuckles and disagrees.

He puts me at ease and slides a finger in, a breath exhaling from my lips as I move my hips slightly to his circular motions. His fingers slide upwards, relentlessly moving, dipping, swirling and circling around, adding pressure and attempting to obtain the one spot I have been craving to be touched.

"No, please," I sigh, the sound of the door knocking echoing through the room, taking me away from the sensational feeling I have been deprived of, "Don't stop," I instruct, my hands pressed to his shoulders, my nails digging into the material of his shirt.

"Really want me, huh?"

"Tired of interruptions," I whisper with all honesty. Every single time we get time alone, we are interrupted. It has been a few weeks, at least six since we had a moment to ourselves, and I'm pretty sure we were also interrupted that time too.

I tilt my head back, my mouth allowing a small groan to escape as I am enthralled with the circular touch and rhythm he's presenting me with. "Harry," I huff, "Keep going," I instruct, feeling the aching desire through my body, the sensations radiating through every nerve possible. I feel my body begin to go weak as he holds me firmly closer to him, my legs starting to quiver, and my body squirming against him. "Harry—" I breathe out, my chest rising rapidly.

Abruptly, without warning, Harry stops and slides his fingers out, causing my mouth to drop in utter disappointment.

You have to be fucking kidding me. He shakes his head and uses his free hand to adjust his pants, managing to do so without bothering to move me, "Ye' all wet."

"No shit, you got me all hot and bothered," I mutter, my irritation washing away the moment he unzips my dress from the back and takes it off of me with ease.

He stands up, holding me against him, forcing his pants down his legs and leaving them on the floor before setting me down on the bed and wasting no time with moving the lace in his way and teasing me with the tip of his length at my entrance. I curl my fingers into his shirt and draw his chest closer, taking bold possession of his mouth, tasting the honeysuckle flavour and moving my hips to the motions of his. My body absorbs the intimate feel of him, blood humming in both our veins' with every deep repetitive thrust that takes place. He moans into our kiss, and I tighten my grip on his shirt, the heat between us intensifying. Probing in a slow, repetitive rhythm, he perceives my every desire.

My head spins with the achy feeling of him inside of me, my legs quivering. He takes my hands and forces me to release his shirt, moving my arms over my head and holding them in place, "Hold it," He instructs, my breath hitching in my throat as I'm getting closer and closer.

Tangy taste and male scent fill the air between us with every powerful thrust that drives us closer and closer to the barrier of resistance I am fighting. Our tongues dip and swirl between the soft groans of the two of us while entangled together in the heat of our bodies.

My breaths become shallow, and I can feel the tingly sensation in my toes that radiate around my body. My body closes tightly around him, and he squeezes my arm slightly, "Anna," he breathes against my lips, my back beginning to arch, my body fighting the urge and squirming under him.

Our breaths quicken and the desire between us thickens to the point it's almost unbearable, and we can't get any closer to each other or enough of each other.

He falls beside me, and we catch our breath with crooked grins. I tilt my head to look at him, "Was worth the bloody wait," I chuckle.

Harry swallows hard, "Had been a while," he agrees, propping up on his forearm and looking at me with his cheery grin, "Round 2?"

"We'd get interrupted," I laugh, inching closer and pressing my lips to his just as his phone vibrates on the side table, "Fuckin' hell, does everyone just have a bell that goes off every time we attempt to be intimate?" Harry pulls away and mutters, reaching over for his phone, "Fuck," Harry sighs, forcing himself off the bed.

"What now?"

"I'm pretty sure a bell goes off when we try to make love, constantly interrupted," Harry huffs, walking around the room and finding a clean pair of pants, "Always fucking something," he shakes his head, his fingers quickly typing away on his screen, "I won't be coming to bed any time soon, I'll see you in the morning," Harry informs me, looking at his shirt and noticing the creases, making the quick decision to change it.

I nod my head and pull the sheet to cover my exposed body, "Is there a problem?"

"I just have to watch the cameras until five in the morning to make sure there's no suspicious activity from the staff who are currently being blamed for Henry's murder," Harry informs me, his eyes narrowing towards me. Whatever Victoria and my father managed to get themselves into has proven to be more than any of us can handle.

Harry claims he can handle it and figure things out, but I'm starting to wonder if it's just a matter of time before it all catches up to us. He can protect me all he wants, but the plot continues to thicken. "That means you won't be on my service," I sigh, remembering my royal duties for tomorrow.

"Probably not. I need to sleep at some point. Matthew or Oliver will look after you. Guess I have to look into the palace fire for Madeleine, too."

"What about Henry?"

"I don't know about the arrangements."

"No, how are you handling it? Sweeping it under the rug? Announcing it?"

"Baby, I do not know. I think they're going to release that he passed peacefully in his sleep from an unknown cause... The palace doesn't need any bad publicity, so I'm trying to hide it the best I can." ... "Just don't talk to anyone about this, okay? Not even the lady's in waiting or your assistant or publicist, nobody."

I nod my head, "I know... Eleanor hasn't mentioned it." ... "Good luck, King, I'm going to sleep now," I half-smile, not thrilled that he has to handle this circus and not myself.