Queen
April 15th
Morning discovered me hours ago when Harry's alarm trumpeted through the room, and he forced himself out of bed. Since four o'clock this morning, I have been in and out of sleep. If I am honest, I don't want to take on the day. I have been dreading this day for years, and quite frankly, have been praying it would never come – but I was ill-prepared for how quickly it snuck up on me. But here I am, on the warm side of my bed, longing for my past self as Princess Anastasia but having to remind myself of my new title as Queen.
"What is the Queen going to do on her first day as Queen? What's the first order?" Harry softly requests, and I raise my brow as I convene up against the pillows and cock my head to the side.
I want to spend my day in bed and wrap my head around things.
"What is the King's first order?" I respond with a hint of sarcasm laced to my tone.
Harry elevates his beverage to his lips and shrugs, "I am on my third coffee, and my duties are to keep the palace safe, the same as any other day," Harry responds, not appearing to be phased by the fact that he has a title.
"You do realise that even by telling everyone that I would be king, I cannot be King, Anna."
"You do realise that I make the rules, right?"
Harry laments, "A King has a higher power over Queen. Therefore, I do not have the right to be over you, Anastasia. Therefore, I cannot be titled, King."
I roll my eyes, "We can have this conversation later. I am going back to sleep."
"No, you are not," Harry returns as I settle into the bed and draw the blankets to shelter around my body. "Anastasia, you have a strict itinerary that you have to stick to, which means your ladies will be up here in ten minutes."
I stare at Harry and groan, "Did I forget to ask to sleep in?" I could have sworn that being Queen didn't come with an obligation to be awake at the crack of dawn.
"Well, I did ask the bagpipes from a piper just below the terrace to be put on hold until seven, darling," Harry notifies me.
"And what time is it now?" I request.
Harry smirks, and I moan as he glances at his watch before flicking his eyes towards me. That damn smirk gives it away.
I wait a few moments, and the bagpipes commence their morning routine. Every morning at around six, I am awakened by the Piper's sounds to the Sovereign if I am not already awake. My father resented it, but he kept it around, not only because it is part of the Royal arrangements but because my mother appeared to love the morning wake up calls. Most of the wakeup sequences were at six, but my father extended it to nine in certain months. Of course, it depended on what was transpiring in the royal world.
The Piper's principal responsibility is to play every weekday at six or nine am for approximately 15 minutes under His Majesty's window when he is in residence at Buckingham Palace. Now that I am Her Majesty, they play for me, under my terrace. I don't want to remove the pipers, essentially because it is a tradition, but I will be damned to be woken up every morning with them under my terrace at six in the morning.
"Thanks for the hour," I sigh, rubbing my eyes. "Can you please request that the time is changed from six? I prefer not to hear them until at least ten, perhaps eleven?" I softly beam, doing my ablest to appreciate the art of the bagpipes.
Harry steps closer and hands me his coffee before leaning down and kissing my cheek, "I don't think they will appreciate playing so late."
"Nine?" I suggest, "I think that is fair."
"I think that is fair," Harry nods his head, and I take a few sips of his warm coffee.
"Could you make this any stronger?" I chuckle, taken back by the intensity of his coffee.
Harry shrugs his shoulder, "At least I didn't add bourbon to it this morning," Harry sarcastically smiles.
I hand Harry his coffee back with another stifled laugh escaping my lips. I know that he adds a little alcohol to his coffee some days towards the ends of his shifts, especially if they have been excessive and problematic. "What do you have today?" I softly ask while we have a few extra minutes alone.
Harry steps away from the bed and tells me what he has planned for his day. My head cocks to the side as he stands in front of me, everything about him causing me to smile and swoon over him.
Harry is incredibly handsome and never fails to find me between shifts to give me a few minutes of his short time. This man with dewy, mist valley-green eyes, lush hair he grooms so carefully that has a rippling quality, is a man that I thank the heavens for every day. The last few months have been horrible and heartbreaking, there are still days where I have no clue how the fuck I am going to survive the journey without my father, but Harry always makes sure to make it known that he is right beside me through everything.
Harry is a man that holds my heart in his golden hands and cherishes it, he has every opportunity to throw it to the wall and walk out, but he doesn't. He has managed to survive the horrible honeymoon phase. Our honeymoon phase hasn't been what it was meant to be; it has been emotional crying, it has been painful, sad, and full of anger all in one.
The man in front of me is dashing with a rascal's smile and worked his magic to give me what was rightfully mine, he didn't pride himself on running the monarch for a short time, and he didn't try to keep the authority that he had. The man that stands in front of me is an exceptional husband; I couldn't have asked for anyone better, and one day, he will be a great father to our children if we ever have children. This man is an influence on society, and I am lucky to have him.
Harry waves his hands in front of me, "Anna? Baby, are you listening?" Harry questions, snapping me from my daze.
I take a breath and smile at him, "Yeah," I lie through my teeth, and Harry shakes his head disapprovingly.
"You're shocking at lying."
I lift my shoulders into a shrug and push the covers off my body. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and step towards Harry. I kiss him sweetly before pulling away and smiling. "What was that for?"
I offer him nothing but a small smile and dreamy eyes that can't peel themselves away from him.
"Mmm, I need to get back to work," Harry changes the subject as two of my lady in waiting's walk-in. "See you later," Harry kisses me softly, becoming rigid as he clears his throat and notices the ladies looking at the two of us. Harry doesn't feel comfortable with PDA in front of the staff and is still unsure how to act. It's humorous to a certain extent. He hated hiding the relationship, and now he doesn't know what to do now that he doesn't have to hide anything.
I reach for his hand as he steps away. Harry stops and looks over his shoulder before turning back around to face me, "What is it?" he softly asks. My eyes glance between him and his coffee in his hand. Harry rolls his eyes and hands me his coffee, "You're lucky I love you, my darling," Harry grins, "Now, goodbye," he begins to walk away, leaving me with the rest of his coffee and my staff.
I chuckle as the ladies watch him leave, swooning over him in the same manner I do. "You're lucky," one begins as she holds a few dresses across her arms.
"I know," I smile, well aware of how lucky I am. "What do I have the pleasure of wearing today?" I question, looking at the dresses, giving the ladies full reign of what they dress me in as I sit down on the edge of the bed.
♛ ♛ ♛
When I was a little girl, I filled my time prowling the hallways of the various estates we have, all of which had their unique quality. To this day, my favourite place is in Northern Ireland, Hillsborough Castle. I allocated ampere-hours in the gardens, playing hide and seek with the assistants and the bodyguards, countless hours picking wildflowers and chasing butterflies. I would do anything to go back to the days where life was simple, where all I had to think about was which flowers I desired to plant when I wasn't learning about the world and learning to speak different languages.
I remember one spring, Dad brought me to Hillsborough Castle; he and his staff purchased various flowers and shrubs I had picked out one day, we went through a magazine. We later spent that weekend planting the array of plants. Somehow, my father discovered a way to make everything match and look colour coordinated. I wasn't much assistance in the garden, I dug a few holes with my little shovel and helped water the plants, but he and his staff did most of the dirty work. It was when things were manageable, when we could be a family without anyone torturing my father. Perhaps back then, things weren't as simple as I assume, and maybe I was naive, but in my memories, things were simple.
We were happy.
Unfortunately, I can't travel to Hillsborough Castle and attain my peace, and I can't proceed to where I have always been satisfied. Right now, travelling too far is out of the question for safety reasons. Madeleine Noelle Veil of Denmark, can't fly back home to her family because of safety concerns. If I could, I would love to discover myself in rolling hills and grassland, where it appears neverending. I would love to advance to the countryside, to view the sunset over a meadow and gather nothing but the harmony of nature when the sun submerges into darkness. Harry's mother's home was calm and serene. There were no sounds of cars continually driving around, no people standing outside my place of residence daily, and no staff. It was normal- something I crave but can't possess. I wish I could be out feeding the baby animals and savouring life in the slow lane like I did the few times I have been up there.
I necessitate a scenery change, but I am unsure where the scenery change can occur when I am not authorised to travel. I still think running to Greece and changing our identities is a superb idea, but there is no way in hell I can convince Harry into the concept. Harry has expressed how ludicrous the idea is and logically explained to me the reasons why it is not happening. I think we would be fine with mundane duties and living in Greece. At least we wouldn't have Pippa around to pester the shit out of us. That woman is relentless; she has not given up on her notion of expressing how incompetent I am to be Queen.
What I want is for us to be happy without doubt lingering around us. I don't want the fear to continue to gloom over me. As strict as the palace is and the fact people are constantly watching, I am still concerned. Before my father's passing, I was carefree. I used to wander the halls' without much thought, but now I struggle to step outside my room without the second thought of whether something could happen.
I do not have proof of who killed my father, all I have is my suspicion, and I am convinced that these same people will come after me or, worse, Harry.
The media have attracted attention to Harry and me. The night on the balcony, as expected, drew attention to us, but in my lapse of judgment, I wasn't considering how this could affect him. He is now another target. If the Aces, whoever they may be, are still out for blood, their next bet would be him. In the mind of someone who wants revenge, money or really anything, they will go for the person who has the most impact. If they take out Harry, one less person will protect me before taking me out unless we comply with their requests. With each day that has passed since my father, I have waited for some request from this unknown group of people. I have waited for a phone call or a letter with their demands, but I have not received a single thing.
When I stayed at Harry's mother's, there were letters sent to her house addressed to myself and Harry; what happened after that night, I do not know. Harry said he would take care of it, and nothing has appeared since. After that night, I stopped looking into things and having Harry followed. I knew that he was right- some things are better left unknown. How Harry handles situations is not of my concern. Harry has his job, and I have mine. He does not tell me how to be a Royal, and I do not tell him how to do what he has to do. I know his field of work has gotten very messy over the last few months. He has done things he never imagined he would have to do.
The door to my office opens, distracting me from my daze of thoughts that have been accompanying me most of the day. Harry steps into the palace office and closes the door behind him, intentionally shutting the door on the people accompanying him. "Anna," Harry begins as he shuffles closer to the desk, he gestures between us and the door and shakes his head, "I have a man trying to measure me for clothes, a woman with an iPad wanting to be my assistant, and I have a man holding a fruit platter... Make it stop, please." Harry breathes out softly, "I appreciate their efforts, but I don't need an assistant. I can do my job."
"Fruit Platter? That is better service than me," I snicker.
"Sweetheart, I am highly frustrated with it." But, unfortunately, Harry doesn't recognise my humour or appear amused by the events.
"I will ask them to tone it down. Call them in," I instruct, gesturing towards the door.
"Surprised they can't hear us and just walk on in," Harry murmurs, advancing towards the door and unlocking it, allowing his array of followers to wander into the office.
The staff stand in front of me in a line, almost as if they are aware of what the conversation will hold. "I know you all have good intentions, but His Highness doesn't want to be followed, if he needs something, he will ask, but he doesn't need the extent of these privileges as my father did. Harry will let you know when and if he needs something. He is very low maintenance..." I graciously explain, "Mike, when he has the time, you can talk to him about suites and what he wants. Estelle, Harry doesn't want an assistant; Matthew takes care of everything. If Harry needs any help, he will ask," I direct each issue head-on, doing my best to be respectful, "And Luke, Harry doesn't need you to follow him with food unless asked; he will make his coffee when he wakes up. He takes a coffee at seven, he will ask you if he needs anything else, give him coffee, and you will be his best pal. He appreciates it, but he likes to be left to his own devices." ... "Think of him as a lone wolf, he was under the radar before marrying me, and he likes to stay that way."
Mike clears his throat and nods, "All due respect, your mother put us on his service."
"You can be on his service. Just keep a distance, thank you," I dismiss the humble team, and they all shuffle out gradually before shutting the door behind them.
"Rough first day?" I chuckle, and he leans on my desk and crosses his arms over his chest while he nods his head. "I just want to do my job, Anna."
"Well, honey, your job isn't just security anymore."
"It is," Harry disagrees.
I know the transition is going to be incredibly rough. He has gone from being security to being a husband to being a quiet King to becoming second to the throne and being waited on by the staff. I don't expect him to attend charity events, cut ribbons and be a royal member. But, on the other hand, I don't anticipate him to give up being security and guarding the palace, but I am not sure how it will operate with him being on my service.
"You know you will need security, Harry?"
"Anna, Matthew and I have it sorted out. Can we discuss something else?"
"Every Thursday, we don't have royal duties. Instead, we have family dinner with my mother," I inform Harry, "And I'd like us to commit to one day a week where it's just you and me even if it's just an hour."
Harry nods his head, "Of course, Anna."
"And we need to find our charities and volunteer work."
"Sure, I'll show kids how to run a security detail team."
"Harry," I press, "I'm serious."
"We can call it Harry's boys and girls' scouts, just without pitching a tent. Instead, I'll show them how to hogtie a person and keep people safe."
"I can't tell if you're joking or not."
Harry stares at me with a straight face, "I am not joking."
"Christ," I mutter, "How are we going to survive ruling a monarch."
Harry elevates his shoulders into a shrug, "I am just here for the ride, but I need to go over protocols and security things with you," Harry changes the subject, taking my ink pen from my hand and shifting the paperwork in front of me away from my body.
"I was working on that," I declare as I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest, now mimicking his position.
Harry nods his head and places my pen in his breast pocket, "Right, so we need to have an unwritten understanding. When security says 'we are leaving', it means just that." Harry notifies me, already prompting me to roll my eyes.
"Just because my title changed doesn't mean I forgot the protocol."
Harry hums, "You need to redo your security training."... "You need to do your SAS training; you have a refresher course to do." Harry reminds me of what feels like the hundredth time.
I just have no desire to do the damn course.
"Will you be my teacher?" I smirk.
Harry sighs, "The tunnels are off-limits for the next few days."
"Oh, damn, now how I will be a product of any illegal activity? How will I escape the palace?" I sarcastically respond.
I have no intentions of escaping through the tunnels or causing any dilemmas; for the most part, I am emotionally stable and know that I cannot go off and get drunk because life as a royal isn't enjoyable.
"Princess—"
"Ah, no," I cut Harry off, "Wrong title, and don't even try to refer to me as my title. You know I hate it."
"And I hate when you make my job troublesome, which you are doing," Harry points as he gestures towards me, "Security is heightened. I need you to at least pretend to care."
"Fine," I mutter, "You're such an ass when you're the security detail."
"Anna, just get your training done with Matthew at the very least."
He is getting frustrated with me. I can tell by the way he is clenching his jaw and tapping his shoe against the flooring. He means well, but the training is a pain in my ass.
Why should we stage a kidnapping and show me how to handle the situation when if we wait long enough, it will happen?
Nothing surprises me with this monarchy. I wouldn't be surprised if Pippa tied me up, forced me in the back of her car and drove me across Europe before abandoning me in the middle of nowhere. After my father's incident, nothing is really off the table in terms of events that could take place. No amount of training saved my father.
"I will," I accept, leaning forward and standing to my feet before I encase my arms around his neck, "You need to relax," I inform him, his arms dropping to his side before his hands rest in the small of my back, enabling me to stand between his legs and bring our bodies closer. I give him a small smile. Then, I kiss him softly and leisurely.
"Easier said than done," Harry murmurs against my lips. I cut him off and kiss him more profoundly, not wanting his words but his affection.
He draws away with a sigh, "I have to be on your mother's service in a few minutes."
Mood killer.
Blinking with feigned innocence, I whisper, "Oh, come on," taking a chance and moving to caress the tender skin on his neck with sweet kisses. He cocks his head to the side, enabling me to kiss his fevered skin, my hands pursuing their way to the buttons of his shirt. Finally, my fingers touch the material of his tie, and I tug on it benevolently.
His tie unravels between my fingertips, and he moans softly when I introduce my kisses to his jawline, gingerly making my way to his lips. Aching tension between the two of us builds with a gentle persuasion of my kisses.
Harry breaths heavily, and his hands squeeze at my waist with a sense of frustration laced to them. Then, with a long, liquid kiss that rushes lust through us, his fingers dig into the material of my shirt.
Unchaining wild, delicious feelings brew inside me, eagerly demanding to escape with every moment that passes by. I feel him pull me closer, the tension at the edge of his fingertips kneading into the material.
I press my body against him, his fingers bunching my shirt even further, "Anastasia, we can't," Harry breaks our kiss with a whisper, putting space between us. He softens his eyes and shakes his head, "We are being watched," Harry breathes, "Camera's aren't cut to this room."
"Cut them, please?"
"I can't... How about later?"
I roll my eyes, irritated with him, "No."
Harry chuckles and begins to adjust his tie, clearing his throat, "I don't think you want the rest of the team watching... I get off at nine tonight. Wait up for me?"
"I think one of my executive orders as Queen is that we no longer have to schedule these things." I gesture towards the small space between us. "I'm tired of it."
It has been a hassle to get alone time with him for quite some time, and there's always something happening or someone interrupting.
"Take it up with security."
"You are security." I point out, irritarted to say the least.
"Well," Harry laughs, "I will have to have a code word with Matthew for when to cut the surveillance."
"Yeah, you get on that," I respond, taking my pen out of his pocket and sitting back down on my chair. "Can I ask you something?" I softly ask.
Harry narrows his eyes down on me, "Not sure I like the sound of this, but sure," Harry nods his head.
"This is private," I inform him.
"You can speak; nobody can hear us. They can just see us," Harry flicks his head to his side, subtly gesturing towards the hidden camera in the painting over the fireplace.
I compose myself for a moment before I take a leap of faith, "What happened with Victoria?"
"Uhm, she died?" Harry is confused.
"No, I mean the story."
I want to know the story he managed to spin to the press. I know he tends to release stories when he can't get the Palace social media team involved.
"She was found. Louis got the coroner report back, and it was a snake bite. Unfortunately, she chose the wrong day to go hiking," Harry responds with a shrug.
"And Henry?"
Harry takes a breath and heavily sighs, "Do you not read the tabloids?" Harry sighs. I can tell that he doesn't want to have this conversation by the way his jaw clenched and he looked around in an attempt to gain a moment to find an excuse.
"I have not been in the mood to read what the media has to say," I respond.
"Henry... He passed in his sleep peacefully."
"And what happened after the private funeral?" I question, unsure of what happened after the service took place. Against everyone's wishes, I insisted he was given a service, whether he deserved it or not for the events that took place. I didn't want everyone to be heartless. My father wouldn't have wanted such a thing.
"We all went our separate ways, you went to the room, and I went back to work?"
"No, with him. Where is he?"
"Oh," Harry sounds, "That, I cannot tell you."
I cock my head to the side, "You cannot tell me where he was laid to rest?" I am surprised.
Harry shakes his head, "No, I cannot."
"What about the rest of the Aces' like Henry's Dad?"
"Anna, I have a lot of people I am trying to track, just like I have a lot of things I need to do. I can't answer these questions. I need to go though." Harry politely dismisses the conversation.
As much as I want to press further and ask questions for my peace of mind, I know that now isn't the time or the place. "Be careful, okay?"
"Always," Harry nods before leaning down and kissing my cheek, "I love you and stay out of trouble while I am gone."
"No promises," I respond with a smile before he walks out, leaving me alone in the office where most major royal documents are signed.
This office has been used for many years by my father. It has been the places he has signed checks, and he has signed Royal assents— this room has been used for an array of different monumental things, and as I sit here in this room, I can't help but feel a weight on my shoulder intensify. I don't feel at ease as my pen glides across the paper and I sign my name across the lines; I don't feel this task is taken lightly. This office is the starting to place to the world as we know it, this room is where things begin, and as my reign begins, I am not sure my confidence starts here.
Being in the same office my father once sat in, I thought I would feel at ease and feel comfort— I don't. I feel the opposite. My world feels suffocated and anxious. This simple task of signing the lines makes me question my power. What I am doing today is a mandatory and straightforward procedure, it is nothing significant in the sense of signing a new Royal assent or signing the rights of dubbing a fresh Prince or Knight, but it feels as though it is a big deal.
I thought my mother would play a more significant role on my first day. I thought she would be with me to sign these documents and figure out what I am meant to do. But, instead, she seems to be doing her own thing. I don't blame her for not wanting to be a part of things, and the monarch has impacted her more than she would like to admit. To an extent, I think the monarch helped kill her spirits, especially in the last few months with what has been happening. My mother was nice enough to team with Harry to give me what was rightfully mine. Still, I expected to have some help from her— Mother has some insight into things, watched my father run the monarch for years, and knows a few things that I may not have caught onto, but she doesn't want to be a part of it. I have no clue where she is going.
All I know is that Harry is on her service.
♛ ♛ ♛
April 21st
Sitting in my office and staring at the four walls for days' led me to escape into the gardens to get some fresh air. Harry will kill me for coming out here without anyone with me, but I need some space. I am not surviving. I have had multiple meetings with influential people I do not know how to accommodate. I don't know why I am being thrown full force into this. I was hoping for a lighter transition, but that has been far from the case. I cannot keep up with everything. I don't know how my father managed.
The gardens are peaceful and quiet. They have always left me with a sense of calmness. No matter what is happening in my life, walking these gardens gives me a sense of hope. The gardens are blooming later than usual, but the Rhododendrons and Camellias are beginning to bloom.
I take a deep breath in the fresh air and stop wandering as I reach one of the many trees full of pink blossoms. It's breathtaking. The blossom trees leave me in awe every spring. I don't know how the gardeners keep the 39-acre garden at Buckingham Palace looking as unique as it does; everything is immaculate.
Spring-flowering trees are spread throughout the garden, but some areas are more than others. One of my favourite trails is the Queen's Walk. The walk has a vibrant display of trees and camellias. However, I am not sure what it is about the trek that excites me and brings me happiness. I am not sure if it's the outburst of assorted colours or just the quietness and the sound of nature humming.
There are more than two hundred several flowers in the gardens, varying from single flowers to frothy, peony-like efflorescences. There is a touch of everything within the gardens, and everything flows excellently. I bend down and caress my hand delicately to brush against the Blue lilacs that symbolise happiness and tranquillity, something I am longing to feel at the edge of my fingertips. I glance towards the Magenta lilacs and smile to myself, inhaling their scent and deep meaning of love and passion. The firm, sweet, heady scent of the lilacs lingers, and I stand back up, wandering away from the lilacs, leaving them to bloom on their own.
As I walk the small trail, I regard a man who appears out of place. He doesn't seem to belong here in the gardens. Nobody should be out here besides the groundskeepers, the horse trainer or security. The gardens at this time of day are not bustling with staff or anyone. They're withdrawn, which is why I prefer to wander out here. At first, I believe the worst, but my heart rate decreases and my stomach settles as soon as I notice the royal tour guide pamphlet hanging out of his pocket.
"Can I help you?" I challenge from behind, startling the man who seems to be heading towards what we call 'The island within the lake'.
Nobody goes towards the little lake; it is off-limits to most to help maintain its natural environment. I have been out there on a few occasions. It's a beautiful view, something I have always loved, but we keep it off-limits for the wildlife that is out there. We aren't one-hundred per cent on everything in the acres, but we know there is danger. My father told me a story about one of the purple flowers out there. He says it can kill someone in seconds. The poison within the purple flower is vital, so strong that years ago, dipping an arrowhead in the plant would guarantee death to anything it hits. This is how it got the nickname of "wolves bane", as it was used on arrowheads to hunt wolves to ensure they died. As scary as it sounds, it fascinated me. I am not sure how they figured out years ago that dipping an arrow would ensure death. I can only imagine someone came across the wolves bane on accident and used it for their advantage.
The unknown man turns around, and I take in his features, but what catches my eye the most is his button-down shirt. I follow the length of his arms and rest on the edge of his shirt.
"I uh- I have lost my group," the man responds, promptly curtseying as he notices who I am.
The man holds his hand out, prompting me to shake his hand. I stare at the cufflinks on his button-down, intrigued by them. I would expect to see these sorts of cufflinks in vegas or at a place where card games are a fortay, not at a palace and on an ordinary man. One cufflink features a Jack, King, and Queen and the other cufflink features three Aces in a foldable card deck. They're not the ordinary cufflinks, perhaps he is some sort of magician, or he just really likes cards. Who knows?
"Do I pique your interest, Princess?"
I shake my head, letting go of his hand, "I've never seen those kinds of cufflinks."
The man nods his head, his eyes flicking down to his cufflinks, "You never know when you'll need an Ace up your sleeve," the man smiles, seeming mysterious but pleasant in the same manner, "I'll let you be, Princess. Can you direct me back to my crew?"
"You will not be able to get back into the Palace; I will take you," I respond, gesturing along the stone path before I begin to walk towards the palace. "I hope you didn't touch or pick any flowers," I comment, noticing the pollen stain at the edge of his white shirt. Of course, I expect children to want to touch and pick the flowers, but not a grown man.
The man shakes his head, and his eyes dart around. A clear indication is lying. I know he picked some of the Lillies; I can see precisely where he snatched them from. I don't say anything; instead, I change the subject. "So, you got lost in the gardens?"
"Yes, I had stopped to check my phone; I have been expecting a call from a family member; I and when I looked back up, I was alone and standing in the middle of a garden," The man explains, "Quite embarrassing to get lost on a guided tour. I am surprised guards didn't cease me."
"I would be concerned about the gaggle of geese wandering around the fields. They get mean. I'd highly suggest for you not to lose your tour group," I half-smile, unsure of how the tour group left him behind, but it does happen. I remember one occasion where a little kid decided to play hide and seek within the palace. He snuck off from the tour and found himself in the dining hall. It was quite a chaotic mess. I am sure there was some sort of protocol to follow. Harry was the one who found the kid and called off the protocol. He didn't fully tell me about the day, but he briefly explained that it was hectic trying to lock half a palace down to find a lost tourist hiding amongst the furniture.
"I don't intend to. But, again, I am sorry for the inconvenience."
"It is okay," I shake my head, trying to be reassuring despite him trying to hide the fact he took a few Lillies.
Mistakes happen, it is easy to get lost at the palace, hence why there is a tour guide, but I assume I need to find a new guide since this group lost a man. I glide my fingers over the touch system that opens the doors through fingerprint and a unique key.
I push the door open and allow the man inside the palace, "Your tour group is right up there," I flick my head towards the small area at the end of the hallway. I can hear the tour guide talking about one room containing a magnificent array of paintings by Rubens, Van Dyck and Canaletto.
The man clears his throat and politely nods before hurrying down the hallway, where I watch him join the group of tourists who are more fascinated with the paintings than with me. A little girl notices me and waves. I smile and wave back.
I watch the small group for a while, mainly watching the man who seems to settle into the group and fit in. I smile to myself, happy to have helped a lost soul wandering the palace before I turn around. I gasp and put my hand over my chest, "Christ, you can't do that," I sigh, catching my breath as Harry stands in front of me with barely an inch of space between us, "Any closer and you'd have been on top of me." I press my hands to his chest.
"Have I not taught you to be aware of your surroundings?"
"I was," I respond, clearly lying. I know exactly what he is going to allude to. If I were aware of my surroundings, I would have been aware of how close he was to me. I already know he is going to give me hell about it.
Harry gently takes my hand and glances around, making sure nobody can see us before he opens a secret door, and we step into a different room. He closes the door, and I lean on the wall, taking a few deep breaths to bring my heart rate back down. "You alright?" Harry kisses my forehead before giving me a soft smile.
"No, you about gave me a heart attack," I respond, slapping his arm lightly, "One of these days, I will do the same to you."
"You give me heart attacks daily," Harry murmurs, his hands dropping to my side and resting on my waist. "In all seriousness, you need to be more aware, Anna. I could have been a murderer."
"That is what I have you for, to fight off murderers." I smile up at him.
Harry rolls his eyes, "You don't make my job easy, that is for sure," Harry chuckles.
"Mhm," I hum, "So why were you hovering so close? What do I owe this visit?" I request. Harry benevolently pulls me closer, and I settle into his warm embrace, feeling at ease for the first time in a few days.
"When I saw that you kicked Oliver off your service, I figured you were at your witts ends."
I rest my cheek on his chest and let out a breath, his arms tightening around me and holding me in the silence.
For the first time in a while, silence feels like a treasured moment. Nobody is requesting me, nobody telling me what to do or how to do it, nobody calling my name or needing me to be Queen. For the first time in a while, I can breathe and enjoy the silence without feeling the excessive need to cry or have a panic attack.
Oliver seems to always cop the shity end of the stick with me. He has from the moment he was on my service the first time. Earlier, my emotions got the better of me. I couldn't take it anymore and needed time alone. Nobody understood that I needed to compose myself. Everyone was suffocating me. When I managed to escape the chaos of everyone, Oliver was on my tail, following me everywhere. I couldn't take it. I needed utter silence and alone time. This time, I didn't threaten to fire him. I simply told him he wasn't on my service and to leave. Surprisingly, he listened to me.
"You can't kick him off your service."
"I needed space," I respond, lifting my head from his chest and stretching away from his embrace. "You don't get it," I mutter, turning my back towards him. I swallow hard and look up at the ceiling, doing my best not to allow the tears to fall from my eyes that are welling up.
Harry stays silent for a minute before he clears his throat, "Anastasia, sweetheart, do you want to talk about it?"
I don't respond. I stare at the wall and wipe my tears away, not wanting him to see me cry over everything. I am stronger than this. I don't cry when I can't do things.
The flooring creeks and Harry's shoes sound against the floors before his hands are on my waist again, "Anna," Harry whispers, tenderly tugging my waist and turning me to face him. Before he can do or say anything, I bury myself into his chest, still not wanting him to see me cry. He has seen me cry so many times in the last few months, and I am tired of it. I am tired of crying and feeling everything at once to feeling nothing. There is no in-between when it comes to how I feel. I am either all there, or I am not.
Harry holds me close, his arm tightly around me as his hand rubs circles on my back, "Okay," he whispers, trying to comfort me soothingly. "The other night, I was so tired, frustrated and stressed that I fired one of the security guys, and I got enraged at Matthew to feel better. We argued for a good thirty minutes before we stopped, and he just laughed."
"What?" I sniffle, surprised to be hearing of such a thing. It is rare to see Harry lose his shit on people, perhaps I am not around when it happens, but I don't hear or see this side of him.
"Yeah, I lost my shit the other night. It happens, Anna. It happens to all of us, and it's okay to lose your shit and let it out. It is okay to want time alone and to cry. You don't need to hide it, especially from me."
"I'm tired of crying, Harry."
"It's part of the grieving process... But everyone has their moments, some more than others. Anastasia," Harry trails off, his hand moving to force me to look at him. Instead of fighting him like initially planned, I look up at him, "Life isn't easy, especially yours, but it will be okay."
"I'm the only one not okay."
Harry shakes his head, "No, you're not. Your mother cries too."
"Only seen her cry twice, the hospital and the funeral."
Harry takes a breath, his eyes softening as he opens his mouth to speak, but he stops himself. Harry bites his lip, pondering his thoughts and what to say. I cock my head to the side, unsure of how to read him or what his thoughts are. "Anna, sometimes things aren't always as they appear."
"What do you mean?"
"I have to get back to work," Harry dismisses the conversation, his hand raising to wipe away my tears, "I have to put a plan in place for your first event as Queen; I will be done in a few hours, do you want to go out for dinner?"
"Like leaving the palace?"
Harry nods his head, "Yes, you haven't left since coronation day, and I think you need to have some sort of normalcy."
I nod my head and smile at him, "I would like that a lot," I agree.
Honestly, since my father's passing, I haven't left the palace much or at all unless for royal events. I haven't felt the desire to go out and be in public, nor have I been allowed. Security is always high, and I am always on a high-risk alert. I have become accustomed to the high-risk level threat and haven't even asked to go out. I figured at some point. Someone would be released into the world where I could be normal for a few minutes.
"Be ready to leave at six; Matthew will take you to my car." Harry leans down and kisses my lips lightly, "And keep an eye on your surroundings," Harry winks, wiping my cheek with the pad of his thumb one more time. "Oliver is back on your service, but he will keep his distance, okay?"
I agree, "Okay," I respond before he walks back out through the secret door where he steps back into the initial hallway, and I sojourn in the room he brought me into. I walk across the red carpet and take a seat in the leather chair. I slip off my heels and lift my legs onto the leather chair, tucking them under me before I place my arms on the armrest.
Oliver walks in offers me a small smile, "Permission to enter?"
"Smartass," I mutter with a slight chuckle, "I'm sorry, Oliver."
"It's okay, Her highness."
"Is it okay if you make sure nobody comes in here?" I question, "I would like some time alone," I softly instruct, resting my head on my arms.
"As you wish," Oliver agrees, exercising towards the door and stepping out, leaving me alone in a room where very few will find me.
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