July 2nd.

The door to our headquarters receives a beating, and Harry lifts his head gradually off the pillow with a groan, glancing up at me as I continue to read my book—unphased by the banging and knocking for my attention. I'm at the point where I don't care. There's only so much I can take before I reach my limit, and today the limit has peaked.

Harry blinks a few times before rubbing his weary eyes and resting upon his forearms, "Darling, are you not going to get that?" Harry questions. "I was asleep," Harry mutters, not too pleased.

I shake my head, flicking to the next page in my book. I'm not sure what time it is, but whatever problems are waiting at the door can wait until a decent hour. My book is more noteworthy and far more interesting.

Harry compels himself out of bed and strides towards the door, muttering to himself with every step before his voice gets lost the further away from the bedroom he walks. "Anna, it's for you," his voice voyages through our living quarters. But, unfortunately, he doesn't sound delighted.

Pippa saunters into our bedroom with Matthew right by her side, "You're reading a book? Get up, get dressed. You have things to address," Pippa urges, lashing her arms around like a pelican drying its wings on a pier.

"It's two in the morning," I answer, glancing towards Pippa. "Matthew, is the palace under attack?" I softly question with a raised brow.

"No, her majesty," Matthew shakes his head.

"Are any of my staff in immediate danger?"

Matthew pauses before again shaking his head. "No."

I nod, "Is war starting?"

"No"

"Then, Pippa, you can leave. I'm busy," I shrug my shoulders.

"Your people are protesting and—"

"I believe they're protesting you and Henry's father, the two culprits for this mass chaos. So now, you can go out there and join them, do whatever. I do not care."

"Anastasia, they're going to start Looting."

Harry lays down on the bed, taking his position beside me on his stomach, one arm under his pillow, the other one draping around my stomach. Harry kisses my shoulder before positioning his head on the pillow beside it, "How's the book, baby?"

"Interesting, you should give it a read."

"Mhm, perhaps in the daylight hours," Harry agrees, "You should read the book I just finished," Harry continues the conversation.

"Hello? Do you two see me?" Pippa waves her hands around in the air, "The monarch is crumbling, and the people are losing their marbles. And all you two can discuss is the book you're reading?"

"We see you, Pippa. We are ignoring you," Harry responds, "Perhaps you should have thought about all this before taking matters into your own hands. But, it's your ball game and your war with Henry's father."

"Who is the ruling monarch? You or her? I thought it was her." Pippa spits out bitterly.

"Both, so show respect," I quickly answer her question.

No matter who has the crown, he will always be my partner, and I deem he will always have the respect he deserves.

"Or what? You'll throw the book at me?"

I shake my head, "Hey, babe?" Then, I turn to Harry, "Do you think I should throw the book?"

"Darling, she isn't worthy of the book," Harry responds, "Matthew, if there's no threat and I'm not needed for work, would you kindly leave?" Harry reasonably asks, rolling onto his back. "I was asleep, and sleep is scarce for me."

"You can't just ignore me." Pippa crosses her arms over her chest like a child.

She should have thought about her actions and double-crossing me before doing so sporadically. Instead, she has annihilated the peace I had intended to preserve.

"I'm patronage of four hundred organisations. Your ridiculous schemes just aren't really on my priority list right now... I'm busy if you can't tell." I nod towards my book, my eyes side-eyeing the pistol by Harry's bedside. I could conclude it all right now, one aim and half my tribulations end.

One, two, three, four... Should I?

"You... you are worse than your father, and this is not how you want to be remembered. First few months of reign, and you have the people at the gates rioting and protesting."

Is it still a murder charge if she deserves it? She deserves the pain.

"That's all your doing," I respond, "Now, if you have nothing good to offer this conversation, such as what schemes you and Henry's dad came up with or even his name, then please leave.... I much rather enjoy time with my husband."

Pippa gapes at me and goes to speak, but she arrests when my room welcomes Madeleine's company. "For fucks sake," Harry moans, tilting his head to notice her standing in our room.

"Can someone explain why it's so fucking hot in this Palace? Do we not have a backup generator? Anna, are you that poor?" Madeleine requests with a huff, fanning herself.

"Live like the rest of us common folk," Harry responds, "Backup generator only has enough power to keep minimal lights on for emergency evacuation, not to keep the Princess comfortable." Harry gestures towards Madeleine, mocking her.

The two of them will bicker over anything and everything at any given moment.

"The heat isn't our problem. Our problem is the raging mess outside," Pippa motions towards the balcony where I stood earlier when the power went out. None of this was my fault. I endeavoured to unify the country, I failed. Yet, the rally of people attempting to break down the gates thinks this is all my responsibility when it is far from the truth in reality.

"Madeline, Pippa is the reason we are dying of heat, she turned the power off, and it'll take a few days to restore it. Great fucking move." Harry gestures towards Pippa, "And Henry's father retaliated against her. Parliament has blown up. So they have their rifts going on. So now that everyone is on the same page, get out of my fucking bedroom." Harry points to the bedroom door, not appreciating the royal gathering at all.

Harry's requests are overlooked, and Pippa continues to speak, choosing to uncover ways for me to retaliate and give into her tactics.

I'm at the point where I don't care whether the monarchy stands or not; I don't believe that this is my fault. I attempted to produce peace, and the other two went in the opposing direction. My main concern is that Henry's father could decide to annihilate me at any given moment. Hence, the generator generates enough power to keep the lights and the security systems on.

"Wouldn't it be quite the plot twist of Pippa and this mystery man were lovers?" Madeline comments, posing on the bed, crossing her legs like a child and gazing at Harry and me. "Or if they are lovers who turned to enemies? "... "I wouldn't be surprised if they're conspiring together," Madeleine giggles to herself, flicking her eyes towards Harry.

"Madeleine, go do something useful and go keep Louis occupied," Harry mumbles, not amused with the fact our room has turned into a circus of chaos. "I hear the coat closets are available," Harry comments, referencing the fact he knows about their secret rendezvous."

"You're all fucking useless," Pippa huffs, running her fingers through her hair, "I'd be better off with sock puppets."

"At least you can't kill them," Harry snickers.

"I'm getting tired of your murderous remarks. It wasn't my idea to kill Henry!" Pippa shouts out, her eyes expanding wide with guilt.

"Ah, so you finally let it slip. It was you. So who's idea was it? Care to tell me?" Harry immediately sits up, "You can make everything a little easier if you tell me." Harry is nonetheless attempting to figure out who was killed with the sword I found.

"I'm not telling you shit, his majesty."

Harry turns to me, "Now I see why you hate when I call you her majesty, fucking condescending," Harry agrees with the statements I made earlier.

"If you won't do anything as Queen, can I at least get security before they storm the palace?"

"You are not of my problem," Harry shakes his head, "I will not be on your service. I won't take a bullet for a murderer."

Her safety is not of my concern either. She will lay in the bed she has made.

Pippa develops red with envy and parades closer to the bed, "You—"Pippa begins, pointing at Harry, "You think you know, but you don't."

"I know you did it," Harry taunts her effortlessly, "And you didn't do it alone either. So careful, you might fool around and end up confessing too much. "... "So who's Henry's father?"

"Your worst nightmare."

"No, you are," Harry presses, "I heard he needs the monarch to fail, and you need it to continue, so you might want to work with me to get what you want. I have what you want," Harry informs her, "So, what's his name?"

"I'm telling you this only because it's a matter of time before he strikes. His name is Nicholas, quite fitting since he's trying to get the people's Victory. Surprised he let her live," Pippa gestures towards me, causing my stomach to turn at the memory of running into him.

Harry shrugs, "He won't touch her. If he does, I'll break every bone in his body. "... "Alright, everyone out of my room," Harry gets off the bed, grasping his belt from the floor, holding it in half and pulling it between his two hands.

"Why can't my life be attending events and wearing pretty dresses," I sigh, observing as Harry snaps his belt.

"Everyone out unless you want to be on the receiving end of my belt," Harry suggests, pointing to the door.

Matthew nods his head and takes it upon himself to drag Pippa out, leaving Madeleine sitting on my bed in a child-like manner. "Kinky, can I borrow the belt for Louis?" She cheekily requests.

"Out," Harry points to the door, "Don't make me use your full name because I swear if I do before I finish speaking, I will pull my shorts down, and I'm not wearing underwear," Harry threatens, causing Madeline to screw her nose up.

"Well, I mean... you do have a nice torso, so—"

"OUT!" I point to the door, observing as Harry starts to draw at the string of his shorts. Madeline crawls off the bed and scampers out, Harry right behind her to close the door to the quarters and lock it.

"Let the people speak to parliament, let the people decide. Let them petition." Harry advises.

I shake my head, "Enough... Take the shorts off and come here, now." I place my book down on the side table, motioning for him to crawl on the bed. Harry smirks and creeps on the bed, leaving his shorts hanging at his hips. He hovers over my body and slants down to kiss me sweetly, tasting my lips as my arms encase around his neck, and I lift my hips to brush up against him. "Take my mind off it all," I whisper against his lips, "Please."

"Can't keep your hands off me, can ya?" Harry teases.

He's right. I can't keep my hands off of him. Amid all this chaos, I want him in every single way possible.

Harry positions his fingers at the edge of my shirt before drawing it up to my body and tugging it over my head, tossing it to the floor effortlessly, not caring where it anchors. He gently pushes me to rest back down on the bed, his body looming inches from mine as his necklace touches my bare skin, tapping the middle of my chest delicately. He leans down and leaves charming kisses to the slender column of my neck, his hand commencing to trail the bare skin of my torso.

The sheer curtains sway in the breeze as the summer ambience drives its way into the bedroom. My eyes concentrate on the frolicking curtains while Harry is asleep beside me. The assemblage is getting more clangorous each moment that goes past. But, they're not giving up despite my silence. I laboriously sigh and swing my legs over the edge of the bed and propel my body up, my hand advancing for Harry's button-up; he heaved to the end of the bed earlier when he got home. I slide the thin fabric up to my arms and gradually button the shirt to cover my naked body. I glance over my shoulder to make sure Harry is still asleep. I smile to myself, witnessing his body half wrapped in the thin white sheets, fast asleep and serene. At least one of us can get some sleep through this time.

I trek towards the glass entrance and stroll past the sheer curtains, the cloth grazing past my legs when I stride out into the balcony. I take a breath and wander to the edge, my hands pressing to the stone edge, glancing down at the gardens and following the gaze to the gates. The people are furious. Arms and hands are doing their best to bear through the gates that are guarded by hundreds of men doing their best to control the situation without harming anyone. Amongst the chants and displeasure of mumbled words, I can hear the rattling of the metal, the gates copping a beating.

"Baby," A hand grazes my arm, and my eyes grow wide, my hand reaching around to strike him, but his prompt reflexes seize my wrist, "Fuck, Anna. It's me," Harry chuckles, letting go of my wrist.

"Sorry," I murmur, pivoting around to face him, encountering his charming, tourmaline green eyes- eyes that are radiant and spellbinding despite the anguish seething around us. "They're going to break the gates," I motion towards the crew below us, "They have every right to be mad," I whisper with a sigh, loathing to acknowledge that some of the individuals have every justification for being on a witch hunt.

I circle back around and press my hands back to the balcony, monitoring intently, paralysed by my thoughts. Harry's hands press to my hips and gradually move so he can wrap his arms around me, drawing me into him. I feel a kiss to the top of my head before he clears his throat, "What do you want to do?"

I squeeze my hands to rest over his, leaning back on his chest with a solemn sigh, "Perhaps we should let them in."

"What?"

"Let them in, let them eradicate it all," I persist. "Call off the guards," I demand, "This is their land just as much as it is mine. I have failed them as they have failed me. Let them riot and destroy the Palace. Let them conquer the city."

Harry unwraps his arms from around me and moves his hands to my shoulders, compelling me to turn around to face him. I furthermore encounter his eyes, and I blink at him, unsure of where our wires crossed. "I didn't stutter, Harry. Call it off."

"I am not doing that," Harry shakes his head.

"It isn't your decision. It is an order."

Harry stares at me, his jaw clenching at my words. I step around him and stride inside, prowling around with a lion-like power, leaving him out in the tempest of the people. I pad around the bedroom, drumming my fingers anxiously against my hip. "Letting them in is the most absurd thing you have said."

"Either you make the call, or I will do it," I threaten, narrowing my eyes down on him, "You might be my husband and the second in command with security, but right now I am the reigning monarch, and I call the shots, do I need to repeat myself?"

Harry shakes his head and closes the doors behind him, the bedroom ultimately sufficing with quietness and not the voices of aggrieved people endeavouring to batter down the entrances. Harry manoeuvres his hand through his hair, eyeing me in an attempt to intimidate me. "Harry-"

"I heard you," he bitterly cuts me off, positioning his hand up for me to cease, "Loud and fucking clear, give me a minute," he snarls with a voice like bottled thunder, a measure of his vitality. Harry steps around me and ambles to his bedside table, snatching his phone and unlocking it, making it understood he is pissed. He taps the screen a few times before holding the phone to his ear, "Matthew, stand down... Matthew, I am aware there is a mob of people, but it's an order from Her Majesty. She wants the men at the gates to stand down. If you can talk sense into her, fuck... Go ahead." Harry speaks over the phone before he places his phone on speaker and tosses it to the bed, "You're on speaker," Harry murmurs, bending down and ploughing his knees to the floor, angrily dragging out his duffle bag from under the bed.

"Her Majesty, if we stand down, do you know what will happen?" Matthew questions. His voice resonates through the hushed chamber.

"I am aware. Let the people destroy it all. They have every right to."

"And what about you? You're putting yourself in danger."

"Do it," I instruct.

The line goes muted for a moment before Matthew begins to speak, "Give me thirty minutes to secure the staff, and then I will call it off, as you request."

"Thank you," I lean over and hang Harry's phone up before I glance over to see him flinging clothes into the bag. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I am doing?" Harry responds, his eyes dark and enraged as he shoves a shirt into the bag, "You can stay here. I am not. I am not dealing with this bullshit."

I grow silent for a moment, "You're leaving me?"

"Yes, I am fucking leaving this Palace. You can come with me or stay and get killed by the mob as they penetrate the Palace. After that, it is up to you," Harry responds, seething with every moment that passes. "I will leave the pistol by the bed. You might need it," Harry gestures towards his pistol, leaving me speechless.

"You're leaving me?" I softly request, "Throwing in the towel?"

"On our marriage? No," Harry shakes his head, "Just the monarchy."

I stride closer to him and reach for his wrist, grasping it tightly and drawing him to glance at me, "Listen to me," I raise my voice just enough to seize his attention entirely. "I know what I am doing, grab some of my clothes, and meet me at your car," I instruct, letting go of him and walking to his side table, where I grasp his car keys.

I storm out of our quarters, the door slamming behind me. Oliver jerks at the sound of the door slamming, and he is swift on my heels. I stride the hallways of the Palace, hustling downstairs and disregarding Oliver as he asks me many questions while endeavouring to keep up with me. Finally, I pivot into the kitchen, overlooking the few staff cleaning before reaching Grace, who presents me a small smile in the dim light. "Do you have any coffee?" I softly request, glancing around, unsure whether there is much of anything considering the power reserve is limited right now.

Grace nods, striding towards the stove where she has a cafetiere, "Always keep this handy. To-go?" Grace questions and I nod my head, monitoring as she grabs a to-go cup. "One or two?"

"Jus' one," I respond with a smile, taking the hot coffee cup from her hand, "Do you mind if I use the secret exit?"

"Not at all... Do I ask why?" Grace raises a brow.

I shake my head, "Trying to get to Harry's car without issues. Thank you for the coffee." I hold the cup up with a smile.

"Wait," She beams, clutching a brown paper bag from a corner and manoeuvring around the kitchen, "I don't know what you are doing, but I assume you might want a snack... Just in case," Grace winks, throwing a few things into the bag before scrunching the top of the bag, "I know you both love the pastries. Shh, don't tell anyone I gave you two the last few," Grace chuckles, handing me the bag. "Go before you're seen," she gestures towards the secret compartment, nudging me towards the door.

I stand outside Harry's car, the air conditioner already on, cooling the vehicle while Harry appears to take his sweet time. I anxiously tap the roof of his car as I stand by the driver's side, the door open, ready for me to slide in at any time. "About time," I mutter as Harry comes into view, his hand holding two duffle bags while he saunters closer. "Was about to leave without you."

"You wouldn't," Harry shakes his head, opening the back door to his car and throwing the duffle bags in before he peers over the roof to stare at me.

"Get in," I beam, placing the cup of coffee on the roof and sliding it closer to him, "You have coffee and pastries."

"What kind of fucking escape is this?" Harry questions, shaking his head, "You driving?" He seems unsure about my strategy. I don't blame him. This isn't much of a well thought out pursuit.

I nod my head, "Let's go, baby," I slide into the driver's side of his car. I sit down and adjust the seat, moving it forward before squeezing my hand to the steering wheel, the other one pressing the key into the ignition. I use my left foot and press the clutch pedal down to the floor, and use my right foot to step on the brake. I release the emergency brake and turn the key in the ignition.

The engine roars, "Easy on the accelerator. It goes from 0 to 97 in 5.8 seconds," Harry forewarns me, watching me intently as I roll my eyes.

"I am not scared of speed."

"Okay, Danica Patrick," Harry murmurs. He swallows his coffee and leans back in the chair, "If you stall my car, I'm taking over. I don't want to buy a new car because you screwed the transmission."

I glare over at him, "First of all, I don't know who Danica is. Second of all, don't be condescending; you taught me to drive a stick shift if I stall; it means my teacher sucked," I respond as I begin to make my way out of the grounds.

"Danica is an American racecar driver," Harry chuckles, "Do you not know anything about NASCAR?"

I shake my head, "I know that Maggie Peyton drove Herbie, and that is as far as I go with cars," I respond, causing Harry to laugh at me. "Now, don't be a dick. I can drive a stick," I reply, changing gears.

Harry smirks, " I bet you can."

"Only you would make that sound dirty," I mutter, shaking my head as I set off to an unknown destination. I am just driving, getting away from the Palace for right now.

♚ ♚ ♚

Harry had no desire to speak the entire time he drove once we swapped, he was focused on the road, but I could tell his mind was bustling with thoughts. Finally, after hours of silence and me being in and out of sleep, we arrived at a small cottage in the middle of nowhere. Harry unloaded his car with our bags, and without question, we both fell to the bed and fell asleep.

I assemble in the modest living room with a cup of tea in my hands, watching the news update me on what transpires at the Palace. It's strange to have live coverage of the Palace while I'm hours away in the middle of nowhere. I chuckle to myself, sipping my tea as the news reporter tells the people that I'm cooped up in the Palace with high security and unable to leave as looters and rioters take control of the city. My plan was successful in getting us out unseen. I'm surprised. The man at the gates stood down, and the crowd didn't take down the Palace. Instead, they calmed down, and the rest of the city turned into a nightmare.

I hear the creaking of floorboards, and I glance over to see Harry wandering down the hallway, his hands rubbing his eyes as he stumbles into the wall lightly, catching himself with a substantial huff. "Fuck," he mumbles, continuing his walk before he pads to the kitchen, drowsily opening the cupboards in search of something unknown. I smirk as I lean over the couch, observing him struggle in his quest. Unfortunately, I have a genuine idea of what he's looking for. He turns around and rests his forearms on the countertop island before bowing his head and groaning. I uncross my legs and stand up, wandering towards him and placing my tea on the marble top. "What's the matter, darling?"

"I need some fucking coffee," he murmurs, lifting his head to peer at me with red, weary eyes and messy hair.

I chuckle, "Oof. You look like hell."

"Good morning to you too, love," Harry chuckles, shaking his head before kissing my cheek. He's still vexed about last night. I don't blame him, but I had to pull rank.

I slide my tea closer to his hand, gesturing for him to take it, "Does it have a shot of liquor in it?"

"No," I respond, following as he picks up the mug and takes a sip. "Would you like me to go get the bottle of whiskey from your car?" I endeavour, observing as his eyes grow wide and he bites his lip.

"How do you know about that?"

"About what? The whiskey you hide under the flooring of your boot?"

"Exactly," Harry nods.

"I have ways," I grin.

Harry sets the tea down and clasps his hands to my hips, bringing me closer to him, "Snoop," he grins, leaning down and kissing my lips gently.

I roll my eyes at him, "The mastermind himself managed to find a cottage in the middle of nowhere, have it fully stocked with food and whatnot, but you forgot coffee?"

Harry nods, "I was busy trying to figure out what the fuck you were doing. Coffee wasn't on my mind."

"How'd you manage to get groceries in here?"

"My sister is an insomniac. So I sent her to the store the second I knew we needed somewhere to go since you dropped the ball on that part."

"And how did you get a cottage on short notice?"

Harry grows reserved for a moment, "Louis was useful for once. He knows the owner. You should think things through before deciding to escape a Palace."

"And did you have anything to do with the fact the news is reporting that I'm at the palace?"

Harry shakes his head, "No, they're just fucking stupid," he answers, his eyes flicking towards the television as he takes another sip of the tea. "Let me guess, live coverage?"

I nod and hum, focusing on the reporter as she speaks... "The military has been called in to help protect the Queen. But, unfortunately, concerns of the rioters entering the Palace are rising. It is uncertain when the Queen will address the matter at hand, but we know that she is safe somewhere in the Palace. She ordered the men at the gates to stand down until further notice, permitting the people to continue in their outraged states. A close spokesman says that her boyfriend, who is second in charge, is scouting floors and locking down the Palace."

Harry snorts and places his cup down, "When did you get a boyfriend?" He muses, nudging me softly, "The tool is scouting the floors."

"I believe they're referring to you."

"No, baby. Your husband is beside you, not sure about the boyfriend."

I roll my eyes, "The news will report anything to create a story. I'm sure Pippa will speak soon."

Harry shrugs, "Matthew and Estelle will leak a few stories to help the situation, don't worry."

"It's hard not to worry when my Palace is under attack, and the people are destroying parts of London."

"Well, this is what being a Queen is like. Enjoy the crown," Harry responds, "This was your plan. I don't want to hear a word about it," Harry continues, stepping away from me, compelling me to glower.

I'm not too fond of this part of the crown. However, I nonetheless desire to hand the crown off to someone else.

"Where exactly are we?" I softly question.

Harry grasps the remote and changes the station, flicking through the Channels, "The middle of fucking nowhere."

"I gathered that much after the seven-hour drive."

"Has the sound of sheep not told you where we are?" Harry questions, persisting in flicking through the stations to discover something on the television.

I blink at him a few times before I stroll to one of the windows and glance out, "We're in the farmland of Glasgow."

"Do you have an obsession with farms?" I question, noticing the fact that he is serious. I can see sheep from the window.

"No," Harry shakes his head, "Jus' safer. Nobody's going to find you in the middle of fucking farm town. Nobody expects to find the Queen in the middle of an alpaca farm and a sheep farm."

I turn on my heel and stare at Harry, shaking my head, "An alpaca farm?"

"Oh, no, we are not leaving this cottage to go look at alpacas. Don't even try it," Harry warns, his eyes leaving the television to narrow down on me. "No."

"But, darling—"

Harry shakes his head yet again. "That won't work on me. You can call me darling all you want, but I'm not doing this," Harry places the remote down on the coffee table and falls to the couch. "Anna, no."

"Harry," I beam, walking closer and stopping in front of him, "You cannot expect me to stay cooped up in here."

"Hm, yes I can," Harry nods, darting around me to stare at the television.

I shake my head and sigh, taking it upon myself to move closer to him. I place my hands on his shoulders and settle my knees on either side of his hips, straddling his lap at ease. "No, I am still pissed from last night," Harry insists, doing his best not to make eye contact with me. I grin and squeeze my hands to rest behind his neck. "We are not leaving this cottage."

I lean closer and skim my lips against his, kissing him softly before trailing kisses to the column of his neck, "You can kiss me as much as you want, but the answer is no," Harry continues, "I shouldn't have even told you a damn thing," Harry murmurs. I chuckle against his skin, my breath tapping his skin before I prompt another kiss to his neck, sucking lightly. "Anastasia, no," Harry sighs, his hands descending to rest at my hips, gripping them lightly.

I draw away and pout, "What are we going to do if we can't leave?"

"We can finish what you're trying to start," Harry chuckles, winking as his hands dance to my waistband and his fingers curve under the band, tugging me closer to him, "Because it would be awfully mean to start and not finish," he muses.

I chuckle, "Humph, welcome to my world."

Harry's jaw drops agape, and he blinks at me a few times, "Ay, now, you always finish."

"Are you sure?" I raise a brow, watching as he cocks his head to the side slightly.

"Anastasia fucking Styles, are you telling me that you fake it?"

I grin, amused by his response and rise of emotion, "You going to let us leave this cottage?"

"No."

"Then I'm not telling you shit," I respond, thrusting away from him and discovering my feet to plant back to the flooring. I stride out from his seated position and begin to tread away.

"Anastasia, hey, come back," Harry calls, his heavy feet pursuing my path, "Are you serious that you don't finish?" Harry gently encases his hands around my wrists, spinning me around to face him.

"You don't like it when the ball isn't in your court, do you?"

"Anna," Harry commences as he closes the space between us, gently but forcefully pinning me against the wall, "Because if that's the case, I'll dedicate this morning to making sure you finish," he whispers, positioning my arms above my head, his body against mine.

I cock my head to the side and bite my lip, "Is that a promise? "... "Because I'm not sure you can keep that promise," I cheekily taunt him.

"I'll have you begging."

"If you can have me begging, you win, and we stay in the cottage," I bargain with him, sensing his lips to my neck, trailing dear kisses. He presses his body against mine and grinds against me, his hands bearing around and squeezing my ass before effortlessly hoisting me up.

I envelop my legs around his torso as he gently persuades me with kisses against my lip while he makes the stroll to the bedroom. Finally, he lays me down on the bed. "I believe this is edging," Harry chuckles as he glimpses up at me.

"Wow, he does live in modern society and reads social media. Surprised you know what edging is."

"Shut up," Harry murmurs before kissing the inside of my thigh, leaving wet kisses on my delicate skin,

With silence sufficing the room due to my obedience, Harry bites down on my inner thigh, sucking lightly, endeavouring to tamper with my sanity. "You'll have to do better than that," I playfully taunt, intentionally pushing to rile him up.

He removes his lips away from my skin and glimpses up at me, "If you're trying to kill my ego, it isn't working, darling," Harry beams, "Aren't you meant to be trying to get me to beg?" Harry curiously queries, his fingers curling at the band of my underwear.

"I know I can make you beg," I respond, grinning as I observe his eyes narrow down on me.

"Cocky," he responds... "I don't think you can," he shakes his head, "And I want you to eat your words," he continues, sliding his hand beneath the delicate material of my underwear. He continues to stare at me, giving me nothing but his thumb as it circles agonisingly over the sensitive nerves. I rest down with a small sigh, "Mhm, you're not going to last," Harry hums with a chuckle, biting my inner thigh once again, his thumb gliding gently over the bundle of nerves. He skims his finger over my heat, touching just enough to cause a slight reaction out of me. He moves to hover over me, one hand holding him up as he leans down and kisses my bare skin, trailing wet kisses along my collar bone and down the centre of my chest before moving to my right breast. He leaves a persuasion of delicate kisses before sucking on my boob lightly, working simultaneously with his thumb at my nerves. My hands move his hair, tugging lightly with each heavy breath he draws from me.

He teases me in every way possible, leaving kisses all over my body and refusing to give me anything other than his thumb pressed against me. I tilt my head back, my mouth permitting a slight groan to escape when he glides his fingers over my entrance. I am enthralled with him getting closer and closer to where I want him.

"Harry," I whisper.

"Mhm, what is it, baby?" Harry questions. "What ya want?"

"Call a truce."

"No," Harry shakes his head, "You're going to beg," he continues.

"Please," I roll my hips into him, "I want and need you. No more teasing."

He makes his way down my body, and he halts to position himself, his eyes staring up at me. He stretches my legs apart and digs in, gliding his tongue across the bundle of nerves. I draw on his hair and allow the emotions to stream through me, "Oh my," I tilt my head back,

He moves my legs over his shoulders and grips my thighs, causing me to moan as he moves deeper, his tongue causing my head to spin.

My hands dig into the bedsheets, and I squirm against him, his grasp on my thighs tensing, holding me down. His name descends from my lips, my hand embracing fistfuls of the sheets, my body focusing on the sensation he's dominantly advancing. I feel the rushing, narcotic power building in my body, "Fuck," I breathe out, the potency of his tongue causing my world to spin. He repeats the motions repeatedly until he finds a pace that has me trying to lift off the bed, my hips bucking. "Please don't fucking stop, I'm begging, please."... "Harry," I breathe out, "Right there, jus' a bit deeper," the words fall from my mouth, and he obeys, causing me to gasp the second the grip on my thigh gets more robust, and he tugs me that inch closer into him...

♚ ♚ ♚

After Harry and I's back and forth of begging and pillow talk, Harry decided that we could journey the countryside around the cottage, on the condition that I partake in running with him. Every so often, he will convince me to go for a run with him, and it isn't necessarily that I despise working out and being healthy; it's the fact that Harry can run laps around me and doesn't take it easy on me. The man will leave me in the dust, turn around and ask what's taking me so long. I know he does it to irk my nerves and banter with me, but I can't keep up with him— some days I can— most of the days I have kept up with him has been the days he has either gone easy on me, or he hasn't felt too well. I win by default.

"Race ya?" I chuckle, smirking over at Harry as he rolls his eyes.

"No," he shakes his head, his eyes glaring down at his phone for a moment, seeming entirely lost within it.

I nudge him playfully and smile up at him, "Scared to lose?"

"You have spent the last five minutes complaining about our run, so I agreed to walk, and now you're wanting to race?" Harry questions with a petite grin.

I hum and nod my head, my hands wrapping around his bicep as I lean close to see his phone, "Nosey," Harry playfully comments, "Jus' texting my three other girlfriends."

"You can't handle what you have, let alone three," I point out, leaning up and kissing his cheek as we stop in our tracks.

Harry laughs, "You're not wrong there. You're a fucking handful," Harry winks. "You're going to think I'm crazy, but I think Pippa and Henry's Father are a joint team."

"Do we have to discuss this? "I laboriously sigh, my hands letting go of Harry's arm, and we stand face to face.

"Well, if I don't tell you, you'll accuse me of keeping secrets, if I do tell you... you don't want to talk. Anna—"

I cut Harry off swiftly, "I know, I'm sorry. "... "We may never figure it out. I'm not sure why the bloodline seems to end with me, or why I'm still standing, everyone else has died or gone missing."

Harry nods his head, his fingers typing on his phone. I can only assume he's texting Matthew. "Ever find out whose blood was on the sword?"

"No, sweetheart. Your mother slipped something into Georgie's drink... he was found a few hours ago in his chambers slumped over. Matthew just informed me royal documents were found in his office."

"Royal documents?"

"Things he shouldn't have had access to," Harry clarifies, "Matthew has to be vague over text."

"How do you know it was my mother?"

"She told me at the coronation. She's the one who killed the two men you accused me of killing." Harry informs me calmly, his eyes flicking up at me as he shoves his phone into his pocket. I accused Harry of being behind the man who was found near a pier in Brighton, an hour away from Singleton where his detective had been hanging. But, of course, I never expected my mother to be a part of any of this. "Not sure I should have told you it was Willow."

I shake my head and present him with an assuring smile: I'm not going to lose my mind and fall off the deep end knowing my mother killed a man or two... Technically three. "Race back to the cottage?"

Harry sighs, "No, we can go for a run around the block."

"Why?"

"Nice scenery," Harry responds, "Thought you wanted to see the damn animals," Harry states, flicking his head to the left where there's a sheep farm. "That's the whole point of our prolonged teasing earlier," Harry points out. "The begging I won."

"If you won, why are you agreeing to let me see the animals?"

"I'm not an asshole, Anna."

"That's up for discussion," I smile over at him.

Harry rolls his eyes, "What makes you happy, makes me happy, let's go."

Harry and I walked and occasionally jogged the path of the animals and the countryside near the cottage. I'd love to live out here, or at least spend more time out this way. It's calm and peaceful, and there's no loud noises or the sound of traffic.

"For someone who forced this running idea on me, you're slacking," I breathe out, looking over my shoulder to see Harry behind me, the two of us slowing down as we reach the long driveway of the cottage.

Harry huffs as he steps around me and punches in a code, opening the gate and allowing me inside the property. "Some of us are still recovering from surgery," Harry responds, watching the gate close behind us before taking in a deep breath, his hand moving to his shoulder, gradually rotating his shoulder and massaging it.

"You alright?" I step closer to him as he bends over slightly.

Harry hums and drops his hand, straightening his posture. I press my hand to his back and rub it soothingly. Harry lets out a heavy breath, his head cocking to the side to look at me with a small smile, "I'm okay, just a bit stiff from the drive earlier."

"That's your story, and you're sticking to it?" I chuckle.

Harry rolls his eyes and laces his hand with mine, "Before my shoulder surgeries, I could run laps around you, you know it."

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, "You still can," I admit, "I just like that I finally outran you."

"Mhm, sure thing, baby."

"Did I hurt your ego?"

"You didn't bruise my ego," Harry shakes his head, "I'm out of shape. I can admit that" Harry responds, his hand descending into the small of my back, his eyes darting around before they glare at the couple walking by the gates. I heavily sigh, and Harry gently directs me in front of him, walking us towards the cottage door.

"Guess I'm about to be thrown into isolation now that a couple may have seen us," I mutter, shoving down on the door handle before we stroll into the cottage.

Harry closes the door behind him and locks it, wasting no time taking off his running shoes, "No," Harry responds, "Not going to force you to stay inside. It's not fair to you. You've been stuck inside far too much since your father died."

"Great, we finally agree on something," I respond, stepping to the kitchen to grab a cold glass of water.

"You act like we never see eye to eye," Harry chuckles, pursuing my footsteps to the kitchen, "Don't respond," Harry shakes his head.

"Mhm," I hum, "We don't see eye to eye a lot."

"Differences of opinion," Harry nods, "I was thinking... there's a small restaurant close by, we could go there for dinner, or we could cook here. After that, it's up to you."

"I like the idea of cooking here; we never do mundane things. Perhaps go out for a walk later? But, what's the catch?"

"There's no catch?"

"You rarely offer to go out in public without security and a full plan."

Harry gulps water before placing the glass down on the counter, "Can you just take the offer, Anna?" Harry softly questions, appearing slightly aggravated by my comment.

"I love you."

Harry lets out a little chuckle, "I love you, too. Even when you get on my nerves."

I roll my eyes at him and lean up and kiss his lips lightly, his hands pressing to my waist, tugging me closer, "Am I on your nerves?" I whisper against his lips.

Harry hums, "But I wouldn't have it any other way," Harry whispers back, pressing his forehead against mine.

I chuckle and shove my hands to his chest before placing distance between our bodies. "Would you like me to rub your shoulder?"

"Mmmm, no, I'm fine," Harry shakes his head, his eyes immediately diverting to the television that has breaking news.

"We have an update on the news from Palace grounds. The royal estate is under attack, the people of England are staking their ground. Few people have made it onto the royal property and are making their way to the entrances of the Palace. The plan, codenamed Whiskey Top, indicates that the royals will be evacuated when the Palace is under attack. There is no news on where or even if the reigning Queen has been transferred, but as of now, the people are on the steps of the Palace."

Harry sighs and glances at me, holding his tongue. He desires to say a lot, but he doesn't know how to execute it without starting an argument. "Don't," I begin, "I made the right call telling them to stand down."

Harry shakes his head, "I disagree; now they're at the Palace doors."

"They won't get in," I assure him, "Allowing them on the grounds lets them know they're validated."

"No, their feelings aren't validated. They're not the priority."

"To you, they're not. To you, I'm the priority. To me... they're still my people." I inform Harry, doing my best to stay calm. I'm trying to be a Queen. As much as I'm angry at everything, I cannot fight fire with fire. As much as I'd love to, I cannot. "I don't need your approval. I know what I'm doing."

Harry heavily sighs, "I'm taking a shower; let me know when they announce that the palace is on fire," Harry sarcastically motions towards the television before walking off down the hallway to the bedroom.

Harry steps out of the shower with a towel swathed around his lower half, and I raise a brow at him, aggravated that he's overlooking my presence as I'm perched on the bed, observing the news.

"Harry?"... "Are you honestly going to be mad about my decision?"

"I'm mad about the whole situation, Anna."... "And I'm quite peeved that when it's convenient, I'm your partner, and we rule the monarch together, but when we don't see eye to eye, it's abruptly yours."

"Harry—"

He cuts me off before I can speak and defend myself, "You can't try to deny that I'm wrong."

"You don't even want the control of it," I point out.

"No, I don't. I would let it burn to the fucking ground, but I do want to protect you. I still have a job to do as a security detail."

"And I have a job to do as Queen. We are equals, Harry, but when it comes down to decisions like this, I trump you."

"And when it comes down to your safety and the safety of everyone in the palace, I trump you, but you seem to forget that."

"Are we going to argue over power plays?"... "Do you want all the power?"

"God damnit, Anastasia," Harry huffs, "I'm not doing this. What you do with the monarch is on you."

"You're pissed at my decisions."

"Anna, we need to drop this for the sake of our marriage before we continue to argue over the monarchy."

I shake my head and sigh, "We aren't going to see eye to eye on this."

"Exactly why we need to drop it and stop arguing over the monarchy. I'm tired of it. Please?"

I heavily sigh and drop the conversation, watching as Harry frowns at his phone while it rings, "You have to be fucking kidding me," he mutters, snatching the phone and placing it to his ear. "I cannot leave," Harry lowers his voice, his eyes narrowing down towards the floor. "No, I am not risking it. Hold on," Harry drops his voice further, his eyes darting over at me.

Harry laboriously moans and takes the pistol from the dresser where it was left. He steps closer to the bed and positions the gun down beside me, "I will be back," he declares, giving me nothing else before he steps out of the bedroom.