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heyyyharry · 3 years

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Chapter 14: Masquerade

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which there are intruders in the castle.

Word count: 3.1k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N aka “Peach”)

Y/N had danced her third dance of the night with her third partner. The entire time, she'd kept searching the room for Harry. Where was he? It wasn't like him to promise that he'd be here and not show up. She blamed all the trauma she'd gone through for her being too guarded and anxious, yet she trusted her gut instinct, and tonight, it was telling her to be careful.

The crowd broke into applause at the end of another dance, and Y/N felt a tap on her shoulder.

"May I have a word with you in private?" Lance asked, eyeing Y/N's dance partner. The man took the hint and bowed goodbye to Lance and Y/N. Lance gave Y/N a mysterious grin as he gestured with his hand toward the door, letting her walk first.

"You seem anxious," he pointed out once they were alone in the corridor and the orchestra music became muffled.

"How anxious?" she asked, pulling off her mask.

He kept his mask on, holding his hands together behind his back. "Right now? Not as much as before." He offered a calming smile. "I'm sorry. Is this a bad time to talk about politics?"

"It's never a good time, but go ahead."

Lance hummed his agreement. "I didn't see Mary tonight. I thought Jo was supposed to keep an eye on her."

"She's being kept an eye on. Don't worry. Her room is being guarded," Y/N said, arms crossed. "What's wrong?"

Lance inhaled deeply, catching his breath. "She was to betray us. She was a spy for Calanthe. She told you to go to the North mountain because Calanthe wanted you to lead her there. She also wanted to find the lake. But her plan failed because the forest protected its secrets from outsiders like her."

Y/N's stomach dipped. "How long have you known this?"

"Weeks."

"And you decided to wait until now to tell me?"

"Look," Lance breathed, raking his fingers through his dark locks. "I was going to wait until after tonight because you'd gone through so much–"

"So what made you decide to tell me in the middle of my dance?"

Lance worked his jaw. For once, he was inarticulate. "This might sound stupid, but...it was my gut feeling telling me to tell you right away."

Y/N bit her lip. "So...why are you keeping this a secret? Why are you protecting the witch?"

Lance hesitated. "I don't want to hurt Jo..."

"Jo?" It took Y/N a moment to realize what he meant. Her heart dropped. "Oh, no, Jo...She was looking for someone tonight. I thought it was you."

"No," Lance chuckled, shaking his head. "Jo doesn't like me like that. Or at all."

"Everyone likes you."

"Is that so?" His eyebrow lifted in amusement. "Well, I'm very flattered, Your Majesty, but I don't think me being likeable could do much good for us. Calanthe has a plan."

"What plan?" Y/N scoffed. "Is there something else you're not telling me?"

"It's not a fact, just my speculation."

"Go ahead."

Lance rubbed his chin. "Well, I think George Wallace was murdered, but not by one of our people."

Y/N took a moment to let that sink in. "What are you implying? That it was a setup?"

Lance nodded, his eyebrows knitted. Y/N watched his grey eyes dance behind the mask as he observed his surroundings before lowering his voice. "They sent him here to kill him. He was the bait. No one would suspect Calanthe to sacrifice her most trusted advisor."

"Harry said the same thing," Y/N said and chewed on the inside of her cheek.

"What?"

Her head shot up. She blinked at Lance. "What?"

Lance cocked his head to the side. "Is everything all right between you two?"

The question wasn't sarcasm with the intention of taunting her. Lance genuinely cared about her feelings despite his own. Knowing so, she could not help but think about what he'd said the other night and earlier on the dance floor. First and last dance...

No. She was overthinking again. She wasn't allowed to have these thoughts. This political chaos was already too much to handle. There was no time for personal business.

"Nothing is all right, Lance. You know that," Y/N answered with a soft sigh.

Lance nodded, his lips pressed tightly together.

Just as the uncomfortable silence threatened to creep back in, a guard showed up, gasping for air as he bowed to Y/N and Lance. Y/N thought to herself, 'Not another dead body,' and her limbs went numb as she remembered that Harry was nowhere to be found tonight. He could be anywhere in the castle. Who knew what could have happened to him?

"Your Majesty," the guard said between laboured breaths. "There are intruders in the castle."

"Where?" asked Lance, his fingers secured around his sword-hilt.

"The west wing," the guard said. "Commander Harry saw someone."

"Where's Harry?" Y/N asked, her stomach knotted. She unconsciously reached for the sword at her side, only to be reminded that she was wearing a ball gown, and there was still a dance going on behind those doors. She was stupid and careless enough to have gathered all the important people here tonight.

"The Commander went after the intruder, Your Majesty. We suspect there are more than one."

"Fucking idiot!" cried Y/N as she picked up her skirt and ran. She heard Lance telling the guard to keep the ballroom secured and make sure no one came and left. Then he chased after her.

If that idiot Harry didn't die tonight, she would kill him with her bare hands.

Harry wanted to skip the dance. People had been whispering about him since he'd returned, so he didn't want to draw more attention to himself by dancing with the Queen herself. However, he'd promised Y/N he'd be there for her, and he never wanted to let her down. And so he deliberately took a bit longer to get ready just to show up late and blend right into the crowd.

The castle was so quiet tonight with almost everyone being in the ballroom. Harry could hear the music all the way from his chamber. He took one last look at himself in the mirror before adjusting his mask and leaving for the dance. He was accompanied by a guard, which made him quite uncomfortable. Still, he knew it was all for his safety. Everyone must be careful after the murder of George Wallace.

"Help!" a scream tore through the night, causing both Harry and the guard to whirl around. A shadow dashed out of the darkness and crashed right into him. He caught the person with both arms and was terrified to find that it was a woman covered in blood.

Mary.

"Help!" she choked, tears streaming down her scarred face. Her hands were shaking as she smeared blood all over his shirt. "They're...they're dead! They wanted to kill me!"

"Who?"

"The guards," Mary sobbed, her face as white as the moon-washed floor. "They're dead! A man killed them and...was chasing after me! He had a weapon!"

"Take her somewhere safe," Harry told the guard, pulling Mary up to her feet.

"You're not coming, Commander?" the guard asked Harry.

Harry opened his mouth to answer when all of a sudden, he spotted a tall and slim figure lurking in the shadows of the corridor. It vanished in a blink of an eye. Harry knew it headed to the courtyard for there was nowhere else to go.

"There are intruders in the castle," Harry told the guard, his heart pounding. "Send backups. Alarm the King and Queen!" And without waiting for the guard or Mary to stop him, Harry ran after whom he assumed was the murderer.

He didn't stop until he was deep in the garden. The snow was falling peacefully all around while the beating of his heart accelerated. Thousands of tiny candles dotted ledges hidden throughout the topiaries. It would have seemed magical had the fog ever lifted. Now the little lights played strangely with the mist, creating shadowy phantoms, there one moment and gone the next. Harry gripped his sword with cold and numb fingers, overwhelmed with anxiety as he scanned his eyes around.

Suddenly, he became aware of another's presence behind him and swung his sword just in time to deflect the blow. The person stumbled back. A clang of metal on metal. A whoosh. Harry let out a gasp as he felt the cold tip of the blade at his throat. Meanwhile, he was holding his sword with an outstretched hand, pointing straight at Lance's heart.

"You," Lance said, catching his breath. He seemed relieved, which confused Harry.

"You!"

"Peach!" Harry and Lance bounced away from each other as Y/N rushed up to them. She looked beautiful in her golden dress, yet she also looked angry...

"Mind explaining what happened?" she asked before Harry could open his mouth. Lance put his sword away, assessing Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"Someone killed the guards outside Mary's room," Harry said, hating the way Y/N's face grew grim. "They tried to kill her but she escaped."

Y/N groaned as she hugged her arms around her chest, gooseflesh rippling over all that bare skin. It was far too cold to be out.

"You shouldn't be here," Harry said. Y/N's eyes sharpened furiously at him. He was expecting her to snap when a broken branch alerted the three of them.

"Y/N!" cried Lance, but he didn't react fast enough. Y/N had yanked the sword out of his hand and chased after the figure. Harry could see it a bit clearer now. It looked like a man wearing a dark cloak. He exchanged horrified looks with Lance and both sprinted after Y/N and the intruder.

"Show your face!" Y/N shouted as she studied the garden in silence. From where they stood, the ballroom, shining so brightly inside, could barely be seen. The orchestra's music echoed eerily in the fog. Y/N looked half-crazed. Her words came out in smoke. "Surrender and maybe I'll spare your life."

There were footsteps padding towards them, gaining speed, closing the distance. There was more than one person.

As they closed in, Harry spun around. He drew his sword and struck at eye level. A cry of pain answered him. Y/N deflected the blow and lunged with her sword, which met with the figure's blade which gleamed in the moonlight. Beside Harry, Lance was dodging every strike. He was quick, yet unable to fight back without a weapon.

Harry heard Y/N mutter something under her breath, her eyes met his for a second, and he could see the helplessness in them. She wanted to protect Lance.

Harry took down the man charging at him with a swing of his sword before thrusting it right through the one cornering Lance. Lance looked up at him, wide-eyed, breathing out smoke. He hadn't expected Harry to help him.

Y/N's sudden cry startled both men. They turned. Like a silver snake, the last intruder's sword shot out and caught Y/N in the shoulder. She fell with a hard thud to the ground.

"Peach!"

"Y/N!"

Lance and Harry bolted towards her. The murderer took that chance to flee, disappearing into the fence maze when Harry looked up. The heavily falling snow had covered all the footsteps like a perfect accomplice. The garden returned to its peacefulness as if there hadn't been a crime committed against the Queen.

"I'm fine," Y/N said, wincing as she held her shoulder. Red blood was trickling down her skin, staining the snow, bringing back to Harry the unpleasant memories of those nights in the woods. He was reminded once again that he could lose her any moment if they weren't careful.

Lance put an arm around her as he helped her stand up. Harry tore his sleeve and wrapped the piece of fabric around her wound to temporarily stop the blood. His heart ached as he watched her bite back the pain. Blood had stained her beautiful dress. Then, Harry noticed that Lance was looking at her with the same agony in his eyes. It was like looking into a mirror. Harry and Lance both hurt the same.

"Y/N!"

"Your Majesty!"

Jo and five guards finally showed up. Jo gasped into her palms when she saw that Y/N was bleeding. "Oh, Y/N, you're hurt!"

"Took you long enough!" Lance snapped at the guards. "I would have had all of you beheaded had something bad happened to the Queen!"

The guards muttered their apologies which were silenced by Lance's raised hand.

"I don't think they wanted me dead," Y/N spoke. She sounded strangely calm for someone who'd just been stabbed. "If they did, they would've killed me already."

"They're here for the witch. They knew she betrayed them," Lance said.

"Betray?" Jo muttered.

Lance's expression shifted. Harry reckoned that Lance hadn't meant to let Jo find out this way. Harry wasn't sure he was more shocked by the news or Jo's reaction to it. He had never seen her so genuinely hurt by anyone that wasn't Y/N.

"She was a spy for Calanthe," said Y/N, seemingly too in pain to acknowledge her friend's pained expression. "Don't worry. We'll take care of that."

"You're not going to...hurt her, are you?" Jo said, her voice wavering.

Lance placed a hand on Jo's shoulder. For the first time, he was showing sympathy with a servant. "We're not. Don't worry."

Jo nodded, yet the uncertainty was etched on her face as she wrapped an arm around Y/N's waist, escorting her back inside.

Harry lit a candle beside Y/N's bed. She was lying on her back, watching him. Her shoulder had been bandaged. It didn't hurt as much as before yet she could not shake off the fear she'd felt earlier in the garden. She wished she'd seen those men's faces. She believed they were the Monks. Calanthe had either sent them here to kill the witch or to light a match that would start a war.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his hand placed over of hers.

"About what?" she chuckled. "Tonight wasn't your fault."

"You came to the garden to find me."

"Yes, I did it by choice." She squeezed his fingers and cracked a reassuring smile. "I can take care of myself. Don't you worry. I'm brave."

"I know," Harry sighed. "Brave people tend to get themselves in trouble."

Y/N snorted as she rolled her eyes. "Trouble follows me everywhere I go. So many people have wanted me dead. But look at me now. I'm the Queen, and I'm not losing my crown to anyone. I'm not letting them take my father's kingdom."

Harry exhaled, a smile playing on his lips. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said.

There was a knock on the door. "Y/N?"

"It's–"

"Lance," Harry said, his expression unreadable.

The door creaked open and Lance poked his head into the room, looking surprised to see Harry there. "I'll leave," Lance said.

"No, I'll leave," Harry said, smiling at Y/N. "Goodnight, my queen." Then, he kissed her hand and got up to go.

"Hey," Lance stopped him halfway through the door. "Thank you for earlier."

"No problem," Harry replied. With just that, he was gone, shutting the door on his way out.

"Glad to see my fake future wife still alive," Lance said as he made his way to the bed to sit down at Harry's previous spot.

Y/N let out a light laugh. "I'm sorry I took your sword."

Lance squinted his eyes in amusement. "Yeah, and still, you managed to get yourself hurt."

She scowled at him and punched his shoulder as a joke. He pretended to wince in pain before busting out laughing. "Sorry." Lance cleared his throat, suppressing a grin. "How's your shoulder?"

"It hurts less. Thanks for asking."

"It wasn't like you to be so careless," he said.

Y/N pursed her lips. "I was distracted."

"By?"

"I was...worried you'd get hurt," she mumbled. Even without looking at him, she could still feel his notorious smirk growing wider.

"Don't let that happen on the battlefield," he said. "I can take care of myself, with a sword, of course. But you should always remember that the enemy wants your head more than mine."

Y/N swallowed hard as Lance reached out his hand. She watched him ponder for a second before gathering enough courage to place his hand on top of hers. Just like Harry had before. Harry's touch had been natural and comfortable. As for Lance, she felt him turning into a bundle of nerves.

"You're too good for me," she said.

His eyes danced as he chuckled. "No one is too good for anyone." Then he sucked in a breath. "I hope we'll both be alive after this."

"We will," she said even though she was unsure.

"What will happen then?"

"We get married. For our kingdoms."

Lance's smile faltered. He clenched his jaw and looked away, his fingers sliding off hers. "We don't have to if Calanthe's dead," he whispered.

"Our people expect a wedding."

Lance shook his head and switched his gaze back to her. "Forget what the people want. What do you want, Y/N?"

"I can't just forget what the people want. I'm their queen."

Lance's lips slightly parted yet he said nothing more. It was hard to tell if he'd run out of arguments or simply didn't want to start.

"Let's try to stay alive and find out," he said with a thin smile. "Goodnight."

She watched him get up, looking rather weary. The complete opposite of the charming king he'd been at the dance.

"Why did you say it was our last dance?" she asked before he reached the door.

He looked over his shoulder, lips curled to the side. "It was a joke. Because you said you didn't want to dance with me, which I hope was also a joke."

"It was." She gave a small smile. "I loved dancing with you."

"Good," he said, weakly. "Rest well, Y/N."

"So do you," Y/N said.

As quietly as a shadow, Lance slipped out of the room.

#tctm series #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles

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heyyyharry · 3 years

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Chapter 18: Saviour

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which the universe has its ways.

Warning: GORE, VIOLENCE, CHARACTER’S DEATH

Word count: 4.5k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N aka Peach)

A/N: We have one more chapter left :D

By the time Y/N and the remainder of her army arrived at their camp, Vossler and Calanthe were already there with the Thero army. Y/N wondered why her soldiers had let the enemy just casually enter their camp without a fight. But when she saw whose throat Vossler was wrapping his long dirty fingers around, her heart almost came to a stop.

“Jo,” Y/N mumbled, horrified as she pushed her way past the soldiers to get to Jo, but was blocked by two Theros guards with hands on their swords.

“Your men couldn’t lay a finger on me because of this precious little thing,” Vossler said, stroking Jo’s cheek with his thumb. “Who would’ve thought a maid’s life could be so valuable?”

Y/N didn’t speak. She silently observed her surroundings, looking for an opportunity to strike, yet she knew one swing of her sword would start a bloody battle, and the first to go would be Jo. Jo wasn’t just a maid; she was the only family Y/N had left, the only one who had been with her since the beginning. Y/N would let them take her own life before they could harm her best friend.

“Found this one in the woods,” Vossler said in a casual tone as if he was telling a nice little story for the children. “Your Majesty, if you were to have your lady in waiting escorted back to the castle, you should have sent some real guards who would finish their jobs. I feel bad for having shot down the ones you chose.”

“You lost,” Y/N said, her voice loud yet calm. “Let my maid go and return to your kingdom. Accept defeat like real men.”

Vossler arched an eyebrow, challenging. “How did we lose if you were the one who lost your king?”

“Y/N!” Harry snapped as Y/N clutched her sword-hilt and was about to charge. One look from Harry, and she froze. Realisation clicked in her mind. She remembered that her recklessness had caused Lance his life, so she wasn’t going to make the same mistake out of anger.

“Your Majesty!” said Sir Seren, her general. “We can still fight!”

Y/N swallowed hard. Sweat trickled down the side of her face, and the smell of dried blood numbed her senses. Around the camp, her soldiers stood in lines, waiting for a command that never came. The air grew colder as snow fell slowly all around them. Y/N could hear her mother’s voice at the back of her mind telling her to put on her gloves. Her heart clenched as she tightened her fist around the hilt of her sword to hide her trembling fingers from the enemy.

Vossler’s laugh thundered as he pressed the blade a bit harder against Jo’s throat, causing poor Jo to huff, yet unable to make a sound, for Vossler’s large arm was locked around her delicate neck.

“Tell him to let her go. She cannot breathe,” Y/N told Calanthe, who looked more than a decoration in the background than a queen.

Calanthe didn’t speak. Vossler did. “Is this the Queen you chose?” He scanned his dark eyes across the line of Isolde soldiers behind Y/N. His gaze flicked back to her, and his mouth curled spitefully. “She’s soft and weak. What a shame for a kingdom like Isolde to have such a ruler.”

Y/N didn’t turn around, yet she could feel her men exchanging looks of distrust with one another. Her jaw tightened as she clenched her teeth.

She was about to say something when Harry raised his voice. “Are you going to let this traitor turn you into one?” he asked the soldiers, his voice loud and hoarse, silencing the murmurings. “Vossler is plotting to dethrone his queen. And now he wants you to commit the same crime and betray your own.”

“Watch your words, boy. Vossler is my right hand,” Calanthe said.

“That right hand is already wrapped around your throat,” Y/N hissed, frustrated and angry that Calanthe was too naive to realise it.

“Your maid’s throat, actually,” Vossler jeered. All attention shifted back to him as he cupped Jo’s jaw and aggressively turned her face to Y/N. “She’s such a beauty. Too bad I might have to kill her.”

Trying to steady her breathing, Y/N eyed around the camp as more Theros soldiers emerged from the tree line, all armed. They were either the ones who had survived the battle or never taken part in it in the first place. They might not outnumber her men, but she couldn’t be sure if she could win with half of her army wounded and fatigued.

“We can still fight, Your Majesty,” Sir Seren spoke again, almost shouting at her. “Stop being weak. You’re humiliating Isolde.”

Y/N heard a gasp and turned just as Seren’s headless corpse dropped down onto its knees and tumbled into a puddle of mud and water. She whipped her head up, eyes wide at Harry, whose blade was dripping with fresh blood. He stared back at her, his gaze cold and filled with rage.

“Commander, how could you?” cried one of the other generals.

Y/N held up one hand to silence the man and anyone else that was going to speak. “Every traitorous action begins with a thought.” She looked over at Harry and lowered her voice, “I would’ve killed Seren myself.”

“Don’t mind me,” Vossler interrupted, a satisfied grin spread across his face. “Go on. Keep killing your own people so we won’t have to.”

“What do you want?” Harry asked and sheathed his sword with a clang.

Vossler dropped his pretentious grin. “I want the witch.”

“You can have the witch.”

“Y/N, no!” Jo screamed and tried to break out of Vossler’s grip but failed to.

Harry’s face twisted with distress. “I don’t think we–”

Y/N didn’t let him finish. She turned to a guard. “Bring me the witch.”

“Y/N,” Harry hissed.

She ignored him.

Vossler tilted his head. His eyes narrowed as he, just like everyone else, could not figure out what she was about to do.

Two guards returned with Mary. Blood drained out of the witch’s messed up face as soon as she saw that Vossler had got Jo. Jo was crying when she looked over to Y/N, and Y/N had never seen her friend so angry. “Y/N, if you let them have Mary, I will never forgive you!” Jo shouted.

“Come here, my child,” Vossler said, eyes on Mary.

“Wait,” Y/N interrupted, glancing over her shoulder to check on the witch. “You may have her,” she told Vossler and Calanthe, “but then you’ll have to accept defeat and don’t ever trouble the peace of my people again.”

“No,” Vossler said without a second thought. “I take the witch, and the battle ends with a tie. Then I go back to Theros, where I become their new king.”

“What?” Calanthe gasped, horrified.

The murmurings erupted once again from Isolde’s side. Y/N exchanged concerned looks with Harry. What did Vossler mean? Was he going to marry Calanthe?

“You cannot be King,” Harry said.

Vossler chuckled darkly. “Look at yourself, boy. You were a conman, and now you’re a commander. So I can be king. The Queen has named me her second in command, and she doesn’t have anyone to pass down her crown.”

“Traitor,” Calanthe hissed, stepping away and pointing a shaky finger at Vossler. “Guards, seize him!”

There was no movement from Theros’ side. Y/N had never thought there would be a day when she would worry for Calanthe’s fate. It was at this moment that Calanthe knew she’d been played. She shook her head rapidly and burst into tears, while the men who had served her for two long years stood and watched without a sign of sympathy.

“I’m not letting you have my mother’s and uncle’s kingdom,” Y/N told Vossler.

He threw his head back and laughed. “Your mother and uncle are both dead, and so is your friend if you don’t make a decision.”

“You really think I’d trade the lives of thousands of people for my maid’s?”

Vossler pursed his lips as though he was considering another option. “Hmmm, how about two lives? Your maid’s and...Lance’s.”

Do not say his name. You don’t get to say his name, Y/N wanted to shout. Her heart ached as flashes of memory exploded behind her eyelids.

“Lance is dead,” she uttered, her jaw tight.

“And he’d stay dead if you didn’t choose wisely,” Vossler said dangerously. “You know that it’s possible. Because this one,” he pinched Jo’s jaw, “was also brought back from the dead.”

Y/N didn’t know how Vossler knew about that; then she was reminded that Mary might have told him. He probably knew more than she thought. A chill coursed right through her as he gave her a smile that didn’t reach his cold eyes. Why was she protecting Mary, who had done nothing but harm to her kingdom and loved ones?

“I’ll trade the soul of a Queen for the soul of a King,” Vossler said.

“No!” Calanthe shrieked and tried to run, but two Theros soldiers grabbed her and pinned her down onto her knees while she sobbed. They were all in on this. The Theros court wanted to kill their Queen. But why? What made them trust Vossler so much they were willing to commit treason, and turn their backs to the good values they’d had for hundreds of years?

“So,” Vossler’s voice pulled Y/N out of her thoughts. She could not focus on him with Calanthe’s frightful screaming penetrating her skull. “Queen Y/N,” he said sweetly, “do we have a deal?”

Although the snow kept falling thicker by the minute, the wind had stopped blowing, and the leaves stopped rustling, as though nature was holding its breath, waiting for Y/N’s response. The only sound she could hear was the snorting of tired horses, Calanthe’s heartwrenching wails, and the rhythm of her own troubled heart.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. Recognition snapped inside her brain like the breaking of bones. Head jerked up, she widened her eyes in shock. “That was why you sent your men to the castle,” she blurted, eyes sharpening at Vossler. “They could’ve killed me in the garden, but they didn’t, because you didn’t want me dead.”

“He wanted to kill the witch,” Harry said.

A shadow of a smile crossed Vossler’s face as Y/N shook her head. “He wanted to kill Lance,” she murmured.

Gasps broke from the Isolde and Attwell soldiers. All attention was on Vossler, who was wearing a smug expression, like a proud teacher when his best student finally figured out the answer.

“Good girl,” he chuckled. “Now, I get the witch, you get your friend and betrothed back, and I will leave with my army.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then your maid dies, Calanthe dies, and Lance stays dead, and we fight until one of us dies. Too many men have fallen already, Y/N. We could end this with less damage.”

The heavy silence stretched between them. Y/N could hear the ticking of a clock inside her brain. She tasted blood on her tongue and realised she’d bitten her lip too hard. What kind of person would she be to save her friends at the expense of her mother’s and uncle’s kingdom? Still, she couldn’t help but think of Lance dying in her arms and his promise to see her again. They might meet again in the next life, but what if they didn’t? What if this was their last chance? After all, he had done his part and kept her alive in return for King Lokesh murdering his own lover - the witch. So what if this was the end of their story? What if she had lost him forever? Both Lance and Jo were innocent. Y/N knew Jo wanted to protect Mary, but it should have been Mary who had died instead of Lance, and it should be Mary who died instead of Jo.

“Deal.”

“No,” Jo let out a sob so weak the sound was carried away in the breeze.

Then what happened next shook everyone to the core. Before Y/N had a chance to regret her answer, Jo grabbed Vossler’s wrist and carved the dagger’s blade into her throat. Blood oozed from her neck, splashing all over her and Vossler. Y/N heard screams that could be Mary’s or Calanthe’s, while she could not move, her limbs were as still as a rock. All noises were muffled, and there was just a single buzzing sound in Y/N’s ears when Jo fell to the grass. Vossler stepped away fast and pulled Calanthe up by her hair. Suddenly, the tent behind him went up in flame.

Y/N snapped out of it at once. She thought it was her, but then someone screamed, “BLACK MAGIC!” and she whipped her head to find Mary with eye blood-red and glowing, black veins curled around her neck like ivy. The two guards jumped away from her as their palms burned with the heat from her skin. Y/N jumped and fell onto the ground when flames leapt from the tent to tent; it was blazing in a dozen places. Immediately, Harry seized Y/N and pulled her up, but she broke free from him, holding her breath against the smoke and dived in to drag Jo’s body away from the gathering flame.

But Jo was already dead.

Knees in the mud, Y/N screamed at the smoke-filled sky as hot tears blurred her vision. Another battle broke out between the two sides. Reality twisted just as the fire gathered into a column of flames. Y/N wiped off her tears as she picked up her sword. Through the curtain of smoke, she saw Vossler standing there covered in Jo’s blood, a grin of unfeigned delight on his face, Calanthe’s body at his feet.

Y/N trembled as fury ran through her. She unsheathed her sword and charged straight at him. Vossler lifted his blade to deflect the first blow. From the look in his eyes, she could tell he hadn’t expected her to be that strong. He had spared her life for the same reason her brother had. Because she was the saviour, and he didn’t know what would happen if he took the life of the one in the prophecy. Now, she would give him a chance to find out. Her sword sheared through water and flame and cut right through his armour. He dodged before she stabbed him in the heart.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Y/N spotted Harry as he buried his sword in another guy, and Mary was busy setting one after another on fire. Y/N supposed it was hard for Mary to see whom from whom and so she was attacking every Theros soldier hoping it was Vossler. Y/N heard the whispering roar of a greater fire as she brought her blade down onto Vossler’s sword, sending him stumbling back. She shouted and kept on charging until her sword shredded his armour, disarmed him and sent him to the ground. The smoke thickened around them. She began to cough. Her head swam, her throat swelled. Her mouth dust-dry. The heat was unbearable. But she must guarantee that Vossler was dead. She staggered on. Her face was blistering. Her ribs hurt. The last thing she saw before dark smoke engulfed her was her blade going right through Vossler’s heart.

Someone called out her name. Could be Harry calling her from the outside of the flame. Could be Lance calling her to join him and Jo and her parents on the other side of this world. She could just close her eyes and follow him. But what about Harry? She couldn’t let Harry go through what she’d gone through. It was easy to die, but the living would suffer from the kind of pain that lingered for an eternity. And so she tried to walk but then fell into the slush. Blackness gathered before her eyes. The fires disappeared. Suddenly, she was in a nighttime forest with stars and trees, gY/Ness and bitter dark.

A figure stood before her.

“There you are,” she said, forcing the words past lips gone numb. She was kneeling there in the snow, in the forest beyond life, and found that she could not get up.

Lance’s smile twisted. “You’re dying.” His step did not mark the snow, the light, cold wind did not stir his hair. He looked beautiful as if he had never gone to battle and died in the mud. “You’re a fool, Y/N,” he added.

“I failed my people,” she whispered. “It was my fault.”

“No, it’s not. But it would be if you died now and leave them behind,” Lance said this in a voice without feeling. But he helped her stand, though roughly. Somewhere around her, she still sensed the fire and knew that her skin was blistering, that she was nearly smothered from the smoke.

“Y/N,” Lance said. “This is foolish. You must go back. You cannot be here. Go back.”

She could barely hear him. “Not alone,” she managed. “You’re coming with me.”

“You won’t be alone,” she thought he said.

She wasn’t listening. Her strength was nearly gone. The heat was nearly gone. She was, she realised, about to die.

She wound both her bloody, weakening hands in Lance’s black coat, hugging him as she breathed in the smell of cold water and pine. “I couldn’t save you, just like I couldn’t save my parents and Jo,” she sobbed.

“You can’t undo the past,” Lance said wearily. “You might not have saved us, but think about those you still could. Go back, Y/N. Please.”

And then she was back, lying on the ground in slush growing hot. She could still feel Lance’s hands on hers, colder than ice, even though the fire surrounding her seemed to fill the world. The air was burning up, leaving only poison behind. Y/N couldn’t breathe. She tried to crawl, not knowing where to go.

But then the wind rose. A wind of winter so strong that Y/N was almost blown away. A pair of arms caught her before she fell. The wind rose and rose, pushing the flames away from them, driving the fire back on itself. Y/N could not tell snow from ash, so it took her a moment to realise that snow was now falling as thick as the fiercest of winter blizzards. Faster and faster it fell until all she could see was white. The flakes cooled her blistered face. Suffocated the flames.

She opened her eyes and found herself back in her own skin. Harry held her in his arms. The snow blurred his features as she leaned back against him, her scorched throat ached. Harry did not speak; he just held her. For a long time, they stayed there, as the snow fell and fell, and when her vision returned, she watched the mad beauty of the snowstorm, the dying fire, and Harry.

The snow began to thin. Y/N and Harry measured each other in wary silence. Then she asked, “Did we win?”

He smiled a little. “We did. For real this time. Mary called the snow.”

Y/N threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly with fear that something would break him into snowflakes and send him whirling away. She thought that he might ask about her burns, so she reached up and kissed him on the mouth. He kissed her right back. The day was breaking, and light was creeping through the clouds and illuminating the half-burnt camp and bodies of soldiers buried in thick sheets of snow.

For a moment, Y/N thought she saw the moonlight deer through the trees.

They rode back to the palace through deserted streets. Their victory had been heard, but the snow was too heavy, and so no one came outside to welcome them. Y/N didn’t feel like a victor anyway. She might have won the war and survived, but she had lost too much.

When they finally entered the gates, the first people to greet them were Kenny and Stefan.

Harry got off his horse and helped Y/N slide off Thunder’s shoulders. The stallion nuzzled over her fire-smelling hair as she leaned against it for support. Kenny let out a sob and stumbled into Harry’s arms. “You’re all right,” she whispered to him, holding him tight. Then she came to hug Y/N as well. “You’re alright, too.”

Stefan looked Y/N over. It was now that she felt conscious about how stiffly she held herself and how wrecked she must have looked. “Where’s Jo? And the king?” Kenny asked.

Harry’s gaze fell to his feet.

“We won.” Y/N smiled at them and began, in her turn, to cry.

“It’s snowing everywhere now. Theros haven’t seen snow in hundreds of years, and they are very thankful for the food and warm clothes Her Majesty has provided them with. Since Queen Calanthe has no heir to the throne, Her Majesty is the next in line to the Theros throne. The people of Theros are expecting a visit from Her Majesty. They believe she’s saved them from tyranny and would make a great Queen.”

Silence sank in once the council member had finished his report. Y/N let out a long sigh as she waved her hand weakly, not even looking at the man. “Next.”

Another council member stood up and cleared his throat. “This morning, a letter from King George, King Lance’s cousin, has arrived. The King congratulated Her Majesty on her victory and also requested for King Lance’s body to be returned to Attwell for a funeral.”

Y/N tried to ignore the lump in her throat as she sat a bit taller in her chair, hands gripping the armrests. “Anything else?”

The man looked quite worried as he went over the words in the letter.

“Well?” Y/N raised her voice.

She could feel Harry’s eyes on the back of her neck as he watched from the door, so she took a deep breath to contain her emotions.

Hesitant, the man said, “King George also...also mentioned a possibility of marriage to maintain the alliance between Isolde and Attwell.”

Y/N expected whisperings, but the whole room was quiet. She looked up slowly, her voice dangerous. “Marriage?”

The man didn’t dare to look her in the eyes. “King George would like to ask for your hand in marriage, Your Majesty.”

Y/N gaped at him then tossed her head back and laughed. “The King of Attwell cannot travel here to see his dead cousin and ask for my hand like a real man?”

“Your Majesty,” another member of the council pronounced, “the people of Attwell were looking forward to a wedding, and even after the tragedy, they still expect to have one.”

“King Lance’s death was not long ago,” Harry finally spoke, all eyes on him except for Y/N’s. “What would the people think of Her Majesty if she married his brother right after his funeral?”

“But, Commander–”

“Enough,” Y/N said and pushed away from the table as she got up. “I need some fresh air. We’ll resume the meeting in half an hour.”

Nobody objected. Harry bowed his head as Y/N brushed past her. He didn’t follow her, and she was glad.

She walked and walked until she found herself alone in a corridor with a line of windows on one side. The air was cold, and the sky was white and cloudless. Facing outside, she took a deep breath that cooled her lungs. If only she could disappear and never return to that meeting. A marriage?

The echoes of footsteps startled her. She thought it was Harry, but Mary was standing at the end of the hallway. She was about to tell Mary to leave her alone, but all she saw was herself when she looked at the girl.

“How are you feeling, Your Majesty?” Mary asked, marching toward Y/N with a smile.

Y/N didn’t think Mary’s half-burned face was hideous anymore. She looked beautiful when she was happy. Was she really happy, though?

“I’m doing better,” Y/N said with a thin smile. “Thank you for those herbs you gave me.”

“It’s my job, after all.” Mary curtsied. “Thank you, Your Majesty, for letting me stay in court.”

“Your powers are useful for this kingdom, Mary. Don’t humble yourself,” Y/N said. “Have you been practising?”

“Yes, I just got back from it.” Mary looked cheerful as she clasped both hands together. “I’m starting to get the hang of it and can almost control both fire and snow. It’s not perfect, but I’ll get there.”

Y/N’s brows puckered as she let out a faint laugh. “I thought witches could only do herbs and easy spells.”

“Not really,” Mary said. “My oldest sister Maggie had tried to exercise such powers for years, but she never learned how. Because back in the old days when there were still many of us, the head witch would be able to control natural elements. Usually, only one witch in a family of witches could do it.” Astonishment came to her voice when she whispered, “We thought it’d be Maggie.”

“But it’s you. That was why Vossler wanted you. He knew it was you and wanted to use you in another war against Isolde. I think he had everyone in the Theros court believe that he would take over the world, but he didn't expect you to unleash your powers when–” Y/N stopped as she saw the light in Mary's eyes go out. Her heart stuttered as she placed both hands on Mary’s shoulders and squeezed. “I’m sorry...for almost letting Vossler have you.”

Mary’s mouth curled slightly. “Don’t be, Your Majesty. We both wanted to protect Jo.”

“I’m sorry I failed,” Y/N said, her eyes stung.

Mary began to cry too. “You lost more than I did, Your Majesty. Jo and Lance would want us to be happy.”

“I saw him in the fire.”

“Lance?”

Y/N nodded as she pressed her lips together. She could still smell the smoke and feel the grip of his cold fingers around her wrist. “He told me to go back, and so I did.”

Mary took both of Y/N’s hands and squeezed it tight. “You made the right choice, Your Majesty. The dead are at peace. The living need you. But most importantly, you have to be there for yourself, too.”

Y/N glanced up and met Mary’s tear-filled eye. Mary offered a broken grin. “You’ve lived your whole life for others. When’s it going to be your turn to be happy?”

“I was happy once,” Y/N murmured. “When I was young and foolish and ran away with Harry. I was happy then despite it all.”

Mary gave a nod. “So I believe you know what to do.”

And at that moment, Y/N believed that she did.

“Peach,” Harry’s voice pulled her back, and she stepped away from Mary, turning to face him.

Harry’s comforting smile shone a light through the storm that had been raging on inside her ever since their return. “Time to get back to the meeting,” he said. “We still need your response to the proposal.”

Y/N glanced at Mary and smiled. “There will be a wedding.”

Harry tightened his lips. The clear disappointment on his face was both pitiful and amusing at the same time. Y/N had to stifle a laugh as she padded over to him.

“But I won’t be marrying any king.”

At that, she strutted away with a smile and Mary excitedly trailed after, leaving Harry standing there with his eyes wide and mouth agape.

#harry styles #tctm series #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #royal!y/n #queen!y/n #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fanfics #harry styles series

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heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Last chapter: Heavy Is The Crown

(from ‘The Conman and the Maid’ Series)

…in which the end is a new beginning.

Warning: SMUT

Word count: 6.1k

AU: princess!y/n, conman!harry, prisoner!harry.

Series description: Y/N is a princess and Harry is a prisoner in her castle. With his help, she escapes from her arranged marriage in search of a happy ending, if there is one.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

The epilogue and synopsis of the sequel is at the end of this chapter :) Enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

Kenny started at the sound of the door creaking open and whipped her head around to find Stefan peering in. The fire cast an eerie shadow of her upon the wall, making him look more like a small and helpless child than the master of his own house.

“Sorry, I should have knocked,” he said.

“It’s okay.” She sat up straight and folded her hands on top of her knees. Stefan still idled at the door. She nodded her head toward the other seat in front of the fire, trying to suppress a smile. “Come sit with me. This is your house, Stef.”

“It is, yeah,” he chuckled, kicked the door close and shook his head as if he hadn’t meant to forget this was his house. She watched as he dropped heavily into the chair facing hers. They both started talking at the same time and both looked away. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other in person. She stifled a laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck and said, “Y-You first.”

She pressed her lips into a smile. “I was just going to say thank you for letting me stay.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” His eyes disappeared into two lovely curves, but as soon as he leaned back into the chair, his face shadowed grimly. “I was going to say,” he added, “that I’m so sorry for what you had to go through.”

Kenny’s smile wavered a little. “It’s all right now. I’m safe here with you.”

She could never tell poor Stefan that every time she closed her eyes, she saw the dead bodies of her husband and the man in the black cloak lying at her feet. She’d murdered someone and seen Harry murder someone. Those two deaths would stick with her forever, and maybe she deserved that punishment for having broken her vows and married someone else, or maybe it was for her jealousy and the wicked thoughts she’d had about the Princess of the North without even knowing the girl.

She waited for Stefan to say something, and when he didn’t, she broke the silence. “Where do you think Harry is now?”

Stefan drew a breath. “Probably at the North castle, or close.” And regarded with her curious eyes. “So are you two…”

“No, not anymore.” She cleared her throat. “I wish him happiness with whoever he falls in love with.”

“He must get over the Princess first,” Stefan said.

“Yes,” Kenny sadly agreed. “He must. But I don’t think he can.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I wish he’d stayed with us,” Stefan said regretfully. “He could be happy here.”

Instead of telling her friend she also missed Harry and wished that he’d never left, Kenny let the silence descend. The dancing flame hypnotized her, and she allowed herself to get lost in it for a moment until she heard Stefan shifting in his chair. When she cast a glance at him, he was holding out something shiny.

“I almost forgot. Harry left this for you.”

It was the gold hairpin, which she had already given back to him on the night she’d asked him to run away and he’d turned her down.

Reluctantly, she took it with both hands and held it like it was made of glass. The gems and the gold flickered like stars in the firelight. For a second, she dared to imagine herself as a little girl and tried to recall the happiness she’d felt when she’d received it. The very first gift from her very first love.

“He told me,” Stefan went on, “that he couldn’t keep it. Because when he gave it to you and you accepted it, it was yours and yours forever. You could either sell it and open your own sewing business here, or you could keep it and remember him.”

Kenny closed her fingers around the jewellery and pressed it against her heart. Her eyes found Stefan’s face, and she realized she was looking at him through the tears. “Oh, I hope he’s safe and warm now, Stefan. I hope he’s not hurt.”

Stefan reached for her hand and held it tight. “He’s Harry. Nothing and no one could hurt him.”

“That hurts, Peach! Why would you do that?!” Harry cried out as he leapt away from the bed. The left side of his face still stung from the force of Y/N’s hand.

The Princess flung right at him and shoved him so hard his armour clanged as he stumbled backwards and caught the bed-post to keep himself standing. She took another step then stalled at the dagger pointed at her.

Maybe this wasn’t his princess. Did she have a twin? It would be so fucked up if she had a twin. No, she couldn’t have a twin. It was she who’d shouted his name in the garden.

Her eyes gleamed with rage as her voice lowered dangerously. “Give me the dagger, Harry.”

She knew his name! She was his Peach!

Half of Harry was relieved, while the other half trembled at the black look she was giving him. She advanced and he immediately stepped back, holding up his free hand. “I will, if you promise not to attack me.”

Her jaw dropped. “You snuck up on me! You attacked me!”

“You attacked me first! I wanted to surprise you and you almost stabbed me! What the fuck was that?”

“You pinned me to the bed and held my weapon at my throat!”

“That was self-defence!” he retorted, but when he saw tears welling up in her eyes, he dropped the dagger and flew right toward her. She didn’t scream or kick or punch him as he tugged her into him and locked his arms tightly around her shoulders. She hugged him back, and he hated that this armour kept him from feeling her warmth.

They stayed like that until she pulled away and blinked up at him, tears still hanging on her long lashes. “Did I really hurt you?” she asked.

He bared his teeth. “Do I still have perfect teeth?”

“Yes,” she replied, amused.

“Then no. You didn’t really hurt me.”

“Would you have hurt me?”

“I can’t believe you asked me that. Of course not.”

“Really?” Her eyebrow rose. “Not even if I’d called the guards.”

“You’ve got no guard here. Your prince had sent all the guards to the ballroom to protect you. Except for this one.” He gestured smugly at the armour and shushed her before she scolded him. “Don’t worry. I didn’t kill him. He was drunk and I knocked him out. He’ll wake up naked in a random room somewhere.”

“My prince?”

“I don’t know.” He mimicked her tentative expression. “You tell me. You let him hold you and cried on his shoulder. He’s also very princely, which is irritating.”

“Princely,” she echoed with a soft laugh. The sound was as sweet as honey. Until this very moment, Harry hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her. His heart swelled as he laced their fingers together and took half a step back to take in her new look. She smiled when she noticed his expression; he supposed it wasn’t what she’d expected.

“What?” She smirked.

“You,” he said, still eyeing her up and down.

“Me what?”

Instead of answering the question, Harry moved closer. Their eyes locked as he reached behind her to untie her braids. She didn’t protest as he freed her hair which fell messily down to her back. He tousled it and dipped his fingers underneath her chin, observing.

“There.” He grinned. “That’s my girl.”

With an unreadable expression, she asked, “You don’t like how I looked before?”

He was taken aback. She seemed to notice the slight change in his expression because her smile faded as well.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You looked beautiful. But so...untouchable.”

“What does that mean?” she whispered.

He worked his jaw for a moment, trying to come up with the right words, but the ones that came out could not sound more wrong. “You looked like you belonged to that Prince.”

Y/N tossed his hand away, and before he could speak, she had marched across the room to the window, facing away from him. He clasped his hands together at the nape of his neck while the voices in his head started cursing at him. Since the moment he’d got here, he’d made the girl he loved cry twice, held a knife at her throat, got slapped, and insulted her. This night had gone quite far from those romantic fantasies of his.

He strode toward her, reaching out to touch her shoulder but then he faltered and hid both hands behind his back. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m sorry if I offended you. That wasn’t what I meant.”

“What did you mean, Harry?” Her hair lashed the air as she spun to face him. “And why are you here? If you, just like everyone else, assume that I’m betrothed to Lance now, what is the point of showing up in my bed-chamber?”

He gulped and squeezed his hands into fists. His gaze fell to the floor. “Because I had to see you once before I go.”

She stood rigid in front of him. When his eyes found her face again, she was pale with shock. “Going away?” Her voice trembled like it was going to break. “To where?”

“I don’t know.” He lifted a shoulder, his mouth twitched. “I can’t stay. But if I disappeared without saying goodbye to you, I would regret it for the rest of my life.”

Tears shone in Y/N’s eyes as she moved closer and caught his face between her hands. “You are not leaving. I forbid you. You are not going anywhere!”

“Peach–”

“You’re staying here with me. I’m never letting you go again.”

Seeing her like this made him regret coming here. He should have known better, that once he’d seen her cry, he could never leave; he would spend the rest of his life going back to this moment and this room.

He held both of her wrists and his thumbs found her violent pulse. “You’re...a queen, my love. Even saying that hurts me. You can’t be with me. I’m not worried about me, but your people would turn against you if they found out about us.”

Y/N’s lashes fluttered as she blinked back her tears. He knew that she knew he was right. Her coronation was in a week. She’d be a monarch. But even with all the power in the world, she could not bend the rules to her own advantage without losing her people’s loyalty. It was either him or Isolde, and he did not want it to be him.

“You can stay here in my court,” she said, hopefully. “I’ll make you a guard. You’re better than most of them anyway. Then...then we can be together in secret. No one has to know.”

‘No one has to know.’ That reality stabbed him like a knife, and he hated himself for allowing a tiny spark of joy before it occurred to him that her idea would ruin him if not both of them.

“I’d have to watch you marry a prince.”

He hadn’t realized he’d said it aloud until she shook her head and retorted, “I won’t. I’ll never marry. I can’t–” Her voice suddenly dropped. Her expression dimmed. “I can’t carry a child, so a marriage would be pointless.”

Something stirred uneasily within Harry as he pondered over the words she’d just said. He thought he’d misheard it, and when he realized that they were real, he released a shaky breath and brought their foreheads together.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her cool cheek. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

A bitter laugh caught in her throat. “You’re not going to ask me how I know that?”

“You would have already told me if you wanted to talk about it,” he sighed.

She didn’t say it wasn’t true. Instead, she fisted his shirt and buried her face into his neck. “Just don’t go. I can’t do this alone.”

“Peach–” he began, but instead of pushing her away, he held her tighter. She started kissing his neck, her fingers tugging roughly at his hair, and soon their lips found each other and he could taste the salt in that fiery kiss. Her arms bound around his neck as he pushed her against the wall and tilted her head back with his fingers wrapped gently around her throat. She let out a soft sigh as he licked and nibbled at her flushed skin.

“Will you stay?” she murmured.

“Yes.” His reply sounded like a promise he would regret later on, but right now, it was what they both wanted.

He kissed her, again and again, to make up for their lost time, and when he forced her away, she almost shouted, “What?!”

Breathless, he knocked on the breastplate of his armour. “Do you know how to take this thing off?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, hard, and shoved him back. Before he could utter a single word, she dragged him toward the bed, pushed him down and sank to the floor. He propped himself up to stare owl-eyed at her aggressively tearing off each piece and tossing it aside.

“How do you know this? Did you fight in the army, too?”

She shot him a glare. “No, I helped undress my father every time he came back wounded from a battle.”

Once she’d opened the buckles and released the breastplate, she bunched up her skirt, pinned him down and mounted him as easily as she did Thunder. He swept his palms up and down her back, feeling the soft and expensive fabric that he’d never thought he’d get to touch. He’d never dreamed of kissing a Queen either, yet here he was.

“If you don’t know how to wear armour, you probably don’t deserve it,” she said, a smirk peaking at the corner of her lips. Then she kissed him again. He pushed himself up to feel her as much as he could, but her dress was too big, it was swallowing them both.

He broke the kiss to say, “Can you also demonstrate how to take off your dress?”

She scowled at him, their mouths just a feather apart. “I don’t know how. The maids helped me put it on.”

“Do you love it?”

His question startled her a bit. She tilted her head and looked at him funny. “Well, not really. It’s quite uncomf–Ah!” A shriek escaped her when he flipped them over and slipped off the bed. She propped herself up on her elbows just in time he picked up her dagger from the floor.

Realization seemed to dawn on her as she opened her mouth, yet Harry did not wait. He ripped the first layer of her skirt and yanked it right off. She gasped, her eyes flying to his face, wide with shock yet darkened with lust. He waited for her to kick him off, but she just gazed up at him, her chest rising and falling with each struggled breath. And so he tore off another layer until her thighs were exposed. She was about to say something when one flick of the blade slid precisely down her bodice, cutting through the fabric and laces of the corset and her breasts sprung free, bouncing beneath his wild eyes.

She gaped at him, half angry, half impressed, then forestalled his speech by pulling his mouth back upon hers. He palmed her breast, trying not to think about her bruises and the freshly healed wound on her bicep. He hated to imagine the torture and grief she’d gone through.

“I might regret this later,” she said into his mouth, and he smiled.

“One who doesn’t know how to take off her own dress probably doesn’t deserve it.”

Y/N threw her head back and laughed for the first time tonight. As Harry sat back to discard his shirt, she stared at him thoughtfully.

“What?” He leaned back down, arms cradling her head, their noses touching.

Her mouth curved lightly. “Not fair. I was looking forward to destroying your shirt.”

“Life’s not fair,” he said before locking his lips to hers again.

The warmth of her ruined dress enveloped them as she worked quickly at his belt, and soon his trousers were off and there was nothing else keeping them apart. She curled her fingers into his hair as he kissed his way down her scarred body until he nosed along her hip bone and pressed his lips to her skin. She angled her hips up for him. She was already dripping as he took his time licking a line from her thigh to her pussy, before he sucked on her clit and pushed two fingers into her.

She moaned, holding his head firmly between her legs. His cock hardened at the sounds she made and the squish of her pussy around his fingers. He sucked and slurped at her, pushing her legs farther apart until she had one calf over his shoulder. She surprised him by grabbing her other knee, opening up for him.

He slid his free hand along the curves of her body and gripped at her breast, brushing his thumb over her hard nipple as he tried to press his tongue between his fingers, his nose rubbing around her clit. She dug her heel into his back and pulled him in tighter until all he smelled and tasted and heard was her.

He fucked her slow and slurped up her wetness for a moment before withdrawing his fingers and sucking them clean. She was gaping at him, eyes a little wet, a flush spreading across her chest, up to her ears.

“You did miss me,” she murmured.

“So much,” he told her and moved forward between her legs, pushing her knees up to her breasts and sank into her easily. She half-sighed, half-moaned and craned her neck to kiss him. Her hands were on the back of his neck and his hands found her breasts between them. As they kissed, she moved her hips up to fuck up into him while he thrust down into her, trying to be as careful as possible for her wound might still hurt.

“I’ll love you forever,” she whispered into his ear before he caught her lips again and sucked at them. He knew she'd have to be able to taste herself on his mouth as her arousal was slick around him. He leaned down to suck at her nipples, biting lightly at her breasts.

“I’ll love you forever, too. Forever and always,” he said between thrusts, grinding his cock as deep into her as it could go as she encouraged him with her moans and nails scratching down his back. He slid his hand down to her pussy and rubbed along her clit, joining her fingers there. She thrust back against him immediately, fucking herself harder on his dick, her arse pushing against his groin.

He was mouthing along the side of her neck when she came. Her hips shook and her clutch tightened around him, and then he fucked her a while longer, just a little more, knowing this would ruin his only attempt to move on and leave her to the life he didn’t belong to. He came, muffling his embarrassing groans in her shoulder as he spilled into her and fucked his release deeper with every thrust, until he only jerked with the little aftershocks and eventually slipped out.

The room quieted. The North wind blowing through the window gap cooled their damp skin. He threw the cover over them, still on top of her because she refused to let him go. He didn’t want to go, either. What would happen to them in the morning? He did not want to wonder.

He was nosing at her throat when a knock on the door sounded, making them jump.

“Y/N,” spoke a female voice, “Are you all right? Prince Charming told me you didn’t feel well.”

Y/N raised her head and shouted at the door, “I’m fine! Don’t come in. I’m going to bed.”

Harry could hear the violent rhythm of her heart as she waited for a response.

“Goodnight then,” said the voice, “I’ll come back in the morning with your breakfast.” Her shadow wavered under the door before disappearing.

Harry chuckled and kissed Y/N’s jaw as she placed a hand on her chest and heaved a sigh of relief.

“Was that your lady in waiting?” he asked.

“And my best friend,” she replied.

“Well, your friend sounded like she hated the Prince. Maybe we could be great friends.”

Y/N giggled and shook her head. “If she hates the Prince, she’d probably hate you, too.”

Harry wondered why; it seemed like there was more she’d like to add, but he supposed she was too weary for stories so he didn’t question.

“Stay until morning,” she demanded, twirling one of his curls around her index finger. “You can put the armour back on before my maid comes back. I’ll take care of the rest. Please don’t let me sleep alone. I’ll have nightmares again.”

Harry raised his head to peer down at her face as he brushed his thumb over her half-closed eyelids. “Don’t you worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

He flipped over onto his back and gathered her to his chest. Y/N didn’t sleep right away. She began to tell him everything that had happened since they’d parted. Some details he’d already known from the gossip spreading among her people, like the duel and Egon’s death and how a witch had brought Jo back to life. Some other details shocked him, like the bargain she’d made with the witch, and the Prince, who had murdered his half-brother, asking for her hand in marriage to secure their alliance.

With a troubled heart, he watched her face in the fire glow until her tale came to an end and her breathing steadied. Eventually, the whistling of the wind and the crackling of fire lulled Harry to sleep.

Y/N awoke when a spiteful winter gust slammed the window violently. She’d had a dreamless sleep for the first time in so long, but as she woke up beside her ruined ball gown to a grey morning and an empty bed, she wished she could just go back to sleep.

Her eyes flicked frantically around her bed-chamber. Where was he? Where was Harry? The armour was there, while every trace of him was gone.

Fear filled her up like a bubble as she rolled out of bed, put on her nightgown and a heavy fur coat, shoved her feet into her riding boots and ran out into the long corridor, terrified. She hadn’t been terrified since Jo’s death, then Harry came back and now she had too much to lose.

Maybe she’d already lost it.

A small part of her hoped that he hadn’t gone for long and that she could still catch up with him at the gate. This time, she would at least knock him unconscious for lying to her face and playing with her heart.

As she swept past the throne room, loud familiar voices pulled her to a halt. The guards bowed as they saw her and opened the door for her to enter. This was the worst situation she’d ever walked into. Lance was standing beside her throne accompanied by only two of his guards. He was wearing his fancy black suit and black fur coat with a sword strapped to his right hip. His shiny raven hair was uncombed yet as perfect as it could be, and his stern gaze was fixed upon the man kneeling before him.

Harry.

His was the first pair of eyes in the room to catch Y/N’s, and his shocked expression got three other heads turning to the door.

“There you are, Your Majesty,” Lance spoke, his voice rough and echoey as if he was presenting a show. “I wasn’t sure if I should send a servant to wake you but I was going to anyway.”

“What is happening here?” she asked and strode up the steps to her throne.

Lance eyed her up and down, making her conscious of the fact that she wasn’t properly dressed. The humour was etched on his face, yet he made no snarky remark and motioned to Harry. “That happened.”

“Let this man go. He’s my servant,” Y/N commanded the two guards behind Harry, only to realize they weren’t holding him down; he was kneeling on his own. He didn’t even seem scared or worried. Maybe a bit guilty, but it was because of her presence.

What was happening?

“Actually,” Lance said, “he came to me on his own. Showed up in my room at dawn. Can you believe it?”

“What?!” she cried out, her eyes pinned on Harry.

He did not speak.

“Yes,” Lance answered on her lover’s behalf, one elbow resting casually on the side of the throne. “Did you say he was your servant?”

She cast a tentative glare at him. “Yes?”

“Then why did he ask to join my army?”

Y/N started, and then her head burnt with rage. She was angrier than she was confused for she had no idea what was happening and why Harry had snuck into Lance’s chamber and asked to join his army. Harry had not said a word to her about this plan (if this was a plan). If she didn’t love him, she’d probably let Lance’s guards beat him up.

“He did not know what he was talking about,” she said, glaring at Harry.

She did not expect him to speak, but then he rose to his feet and told the Prince, “I do know what I’m talking about. I wish to join your army if your men still want to fight for my Queen and Isolde.” Then his gaze flicked to Y/N for a brief second. “I knew Her Majesty wouldn’t allow me to join her army so I came to you, Your Grace. Once again, I apologize for the chaos.”

Chaos?

“Yeah, right, I forgot to tell you.” Lance nudged Y/N slightly with his knuckles. “Your servant somehow managed to disarm ten of my guards to get into my chamber. I could have killed him myself, but only a fool would let such talent go to waste.”

Y/N clenched her fists while Harry refused to look at her. It made her blood boil. She would kill him once this was over, only if Lance hadn’t done it first.

“He is my personal guard. He is not joining your army.”

Harry arched an eyebrow slightly at Y/N, and she realized she sounded like an angry mother when her child asked to go play in the snow. Better safe than sorry, she thought. She did not get him back to lose him again.

Lance held his hands behind his back and stepped closer to whisper to her. “My army will fight with yours, Y/N. He’ll still be by your side.”

That was the moment she realized, Lance knew. She had no idea how, but he knew who Harry was and how much he meant to her. But could she actually believe that this prince was doing this for her, so that she and Harry could be close without her people’s prejudices?

Her eyes searched for Harry’s again. This time, he didn’t avoid them. He stared right back and she knew that look; she’d seen it too often during their journey to the South. It said, ‘You’ve got to trust me.’

And she really wanted to.

“Won’t you have to take him with you to Attwell?” she asked Lance, not breaking eye contact with Harry.

“Once you’ve accepted my proposal, one thousand Attwell soldiers will come to Isolde and serve in your court, and this man can join them.”

Harry seemed indifferent to the mention of the proposal. He knew that in order to keep him she would have to marry Lance. She told herself to just give him up and turn Lance down, but she was also well aware that her own army could not last an hour in battle with the South. She’d be outnumbered and the Isolde soldiers weren’t well trained compared to Theros. Not to mention the fact that she’d already lost a handful of alliances after the massacre in this throne room. Suddenly, she understood why Harry was doing this, and still, it didn’t make her hate him any less.

She bit her lip and sucked in a deep breath. Harry and Lance seemed to be holding their breath while waiting for her final decision.

“Very well,” she said forcefully. “But I want two thousand men with fleets and strong horses.”

“Deal.” Lance flashed a smug grin and offered his hand in a businesslike manner. She didn’t take it. Amused, he stepped closer. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Harry flinch as if he was about to attack the Prince right there. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. If he still managed to get jealous maybe he should not have manipulated her into marrying the Prince.

Lance got so close that she could smell the winter from his coat. When he lowered his head, her heart jerked at the thought that he would kiss her in front of Harry, but then his mouth was at her ear, and he whispered, “You really thought you could make him your personal guard and people wouldn’t talk? Grow up, Y/N. Let me help you.”

“I could just take your sword and gut you right here for talking to me like that.”

She could feel a ghost of a smile on his face in response to the threat.

“You can protect him. But I can protect you, Y/N.”

Lance drew back and their eyes locked for a second. His expression remained cold as ice, yet there was rare tenderness to it, or she was really hallucinating.

She didn’t say another word to him. “Harry, come.”

And shoved Lance away before she stormed out of the room.

She kept on walking as Harry’s hurried footsteps echoed behind her. Once they had returned to her bed-chamber, she slammed the door shut and crossed her arms over her chest. The look she was giving him said, ‘Go on. Explain before I kill you.’

“If I stay,” he began, fingering his own belt out of nervousness, “you’ve got to let me help you.”

“You could help me by not offering your head to the enemy on the battlefield.”

“Are you really telling me you would sit behind these walls while your men fight to the death, Y/N?” She blinked at her real name, yet he didn’t notice her reaction or he didn’t care. “I know you’d be on the battlefield and I’m not going to stay here knowing I could lose you any minute.”

“Then you could have talked to me first! You didn’t have to manipulate me into marrying him! You made me feel bad for even considering it and then you went behind my back and–”

He closed the distance between them with two long strides, and she backed against the door with a thump as he cupped her face and kissed her like he had the night before. She didn’t resist him. The kiss warmed their cold lips with one another, and her heartbeats gradually slowed though her anger hadn’t subsided.

He pulled back just enough to look her in the eye. “I do not want you to marry anyone but me. Especially him. But you cannot stand a chance against Calanthe, and the last time she came to see me, she made it clear that she wanted you dead.”

Y/N was taken aback. “She came to you? Did she–”

“My family is safe,” he sighed, “for now, but I don’t think your people will be.” The words made Y/N shudder. Harry went on, “On my way here, I’ve heard so many whispers about how you are illegitimate to the throne. Your people didn’t like Egon but at least it made sense to them that he was the true heir and not you. Their faith is already fragile. Calanthe could easily turn them against you, and you keeping me as your guard will not help.” He thrust his fingers into his hair. “I didn’t only come to say goodbye but also to warn you about Calanthe. I thought I could just move on, but I couldn’t leave you to fight on your own. So please help me and help yourself. But you also knew that, didn’t you? When you agreed to the deal with the Prince, you thought you did it for me, but it was also for your kingdom, love. You know your people need this.”

“I don’t trust Lance,” she whispered, shutting her eyes. “And what were you thinking sneaking into his chamber? He could have killed you. I saw him kill–”

“I know him.”

Y/N’s eyes shot open and widened. “You what?”

Harry pursed his lips, looking rather indifferent, yet she knew he was not. “Well, actually, I know of him. He used to captain a ship and his crew went from kingdom to kingdom to free slaves and recruit them for his own army. He was as much a prince as you are a princess, and therefore, he’s got as much to lose.”

Y/N ground her jaw and threw her arms in the air. “Great. I don’t even know my betrothed used to be a pirate.”

“Don’t call him your betrothed,” Harry said bitterly. “The marriage would be fake.”

She stabbed a finger at his chest. “You should have thought of that before you made me accept his fake proposal.”

Harry opened his mouth, though it seemed like he was out of arguments.

“So you’re saying he can be trusted?” she asked.

He lifted his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t know. But he could have just killed you and Egon if he wanted Isolde, right? Why bother to go along with a riskier plan unless he’s just as desperate? No offence.”

“None taken.” She rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.

Harry curled his lips as he nudged her cheek with the tip of his nose like a horse. “Also, I don’t want to be mean but from what I’ve heard, he’s kind of a player. Just so you know. I’m the safe bet here.”

“You’re the least safe thing I’ve done and I’ve duelled my own brother to the death.”

He gasped at her remark and she couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his arms around her waist.

“More than myself,” she answered.

“Good. Because as long as we’re together, I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.”

Y/N touched his face as she returned the smile. He could promise her the world, but heavy was the head that wore the crown. The royal court was her battlefield, and she would have to make sure nothing bad would ever happen to him.

EPILOGUE

One year later

It was late-fall in a village deep in the northern forest. The air grew colder and the grey landscape wearier. Kennedy Rowley sat in her house beside the fireplace, holding her first-born in her arms as she hummed a lullaby and began the story of four princes and one hundred kingdoms. She hadn’t got any farther than ‘Once upon a time’ when she heard a knock on the front door. Her husband rushed out from the kitchen, waving his hands about his head to get rid of the smoke of burned food.

The knocking sounded again, more urgently this time. Then came a gruff masculine voice, “I’m here on the command of the Queen of Isolde.”

“Y/N?” Stefan Russo cast his wife a glance. “But the royal wedding is a month away. Why are they here?”

Kenny was just as clueless as he was. She hurried him to open the door, and an Isolde guard heavily stepped in. He was so large he had to duck his head to fit through the door.

“My apology, I didn't mean to disturb you,” he said as soon as he saw the half-asleep child, “but the Queen has arranged a carriage to bring your family to Isolde tonight.”

“Tonight?!” cried Kenny. “It’s so urgent. Is everything all right?”

The soldier’s expression remained stiff although there was a glimpse of worry which he’d done his best to conceal. “I’m afraid not. It’s about the Commander.”

“Harry,” Stefan muttered, exchanging looks of concern with his wife.

“Get your things,” the soldier said. “The horses are waiting outside. I’ll explain everything on the road.”

(END OF BOOK 1)

Book 2: THE WINTER AND THE CROWN (release date announced soon)

Synopsis:

Winter. A wedding. A war.

Y/N has to protect her kingdom from the enemy from the South and also the love of her life from the ruthlessness of the royal courts. But her destiny is paved with blood and revenge. And as she and Harry set off on another adventure to find the cure for an ancient curse, what they find is much more than they have anticipated.

Meanwhile, Calanthe is scheming to take away everything that Peach holds dear, and with the help of other dark forces, this time she might succeed.

Blood will shed. And the seasons will turn.

#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fanficti #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles series #princess!y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #tctm series #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

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heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1: The Queen

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which Y/N is betrothed and her kingdom is in chaos.

Word count: 7.6k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

A/N:

I know my characters can be frustrating sometimes because every single one of them is flawed and makes stupid mistakes. I want them to feel real, and real people are always frustrating. So please, for me, keep the comments fun and lighthearted, because the main purpose of fiction is to entertain and I really don’t want you guys to argue over my writing. Let’s not be mean to each other and my characters - because they’re basically my children and it pains me when someone’s mean to them 😂

I’m looking forward to seeing your theories and questions about the plot ✌🏼

Also, the series will be updated WEEKLY instead of biweekly, so the next chapter comes out next week on Wednesday (July 22, 2020).

Prologue: What Happened To Harry?

The night was wet and dark. Heavy snow was lashing against the windows of the carriage as the moaning of the wind muffled the shouting of men and neighing of horses. Kennedy Rowley hugged her little girl, who was wrapped in a soft fur blanket, to her chest. This was their first time travelling to the North, and Kennedy had worried that her child wouldn’t be able to bear the cold. To her surprise, the little one had been an angel for most of the trip. She would eat and sleep and listen to her mother’s story even while the snowstorm was raging on outside. It was the same story all over again, and yet the baby never got bored.

“Once upon a time,” Kennedy began, rocking her baby gently in her arms. On her left, her husband had dozed off, snoring softly with his head leaned to the side.

Once upon a time, there were one hundred kingdoms living in harmony. The largest, strongest and richest kingdom in the North was ruled by an old king. The King had four sons: Lokesh, Kashvi, Reagan, and Aalam.

While The King and Queen were kind and admired by their people, the princes were spoiled, arrogant, and greedy. All four had grown up to become strong and great fighters, but the one with the most potential was Lokesh, the eldest. And the King was very proud of his heir.

The year Lokesh turned eighteen, the Queen died of a terrible illness, and not so long after that, grief killed the King. Lokesh became King in the North. At first, he was happy; his father’s crown was everything Lokesh had wanted since he’d been fourteen. But now that he’d got it, he wanted more. And so the new king came up with a plan to become the almighty ruler of all one hundred kingdoms. With the help of his four brothers, his army started invading the neighbouring kingdoms. Villages were burned. Innocent people were killed. Dynasties crumbled. And soon, all ninety-nine kingdoms had surrendered to Isolde.

The war was over, or at least that was what Lokesh had thought. As clever as he was, he hadn’t expected that the same greed which had driven him to start the war had turned his three brothers against him. A civil war broke out with four sides fighting each other for a year. Thousands of lives had been taken, yet no one won and no one surrendered. When the year had passed, the brothers agreed to call it a truce and divide the land into the North, the South, the West, and the East. Each brother would rule the largest kingdom in their region. Lokesh in the North - Isolde, Kashvi in the South - Theros, Reagan in the West - Attwell, and Aalam in the East - Rouxvania.

Twenty-four small kingdoms in the North now became the low courts which, despite having their own rulers, took orders from the high court of Isolde. Same for the twenty-four small kingdoms in the South, the West, and the East.

Legend has it that there was a time when the weather would change constantly in a year, but because the brothers had angered the Gods, it's always sunny in Theros, flowers always bloom in Attwell, and the leaves are always red in Rouxvania. As for Isolde, the land ruled by the tyrant Lokesh, the people must suffer from an endless cold.

By the time Kennedy had finished her story, the carriage slowed down and came to a stop. Her husband stirred awake as they heard a knock on the window. The door was opened, and a guard announced that they had arrived.

Kenny carefully wrapped her sleeping baby in the blanket as she stepped out of the carriage and took in the white scenery surrounding them. The sky was pearl-grey even though the sun had risen and the wind had stopped whirling around empty branches. The baby whimpered as a snowflake landed gently on the tip of her nose. Meanwhile, her mother kept spinning around with her mouth open wide; this was not only her first time seeing the North castle, but also her first time seeing snow. When she and Harry had been little, they’d always talked about travelling North just to spend a whole day playing snow fight and building snowmen.

This was not what she’d meant. She didn’t want her first time seeing snow to be without him.

“Your Majesty,” Stefan Russo said and nudged his wife, who started and immediately turned around. Kennedy curtsied when she saw the King of Attwell marching toward them with two guards in black armours following right behind, the silver hilts of their swords shining in the crystal clear sunlight. The King was also dressed in black. He was even more handsome than the rumours. His hair was short and wavy and as black as a starless night sky, and she could envision a raging snowstorm just from looking into his mysterious grey eyes. He was powerful and regal, but at the same time, just a young man of twenty years old.

“So you’re Stefan and Kennedy,” he said, his voice raspier than she’d expected. “Guests of the Queen are also guests of mine. You don’t have to bow to me.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Kennedy and Stefan both said.

“You can call me Kenny. Everyone does,” Kenny added. Only her mother and late husband had called her Kennedy. She shivered at the thought of them; she didn’t want to think about them now.

“How is...Her Majesty, Your Grace?” Stefan ventured, his palms trembling; he wasn’t used to talking to a sovereign.

The King’s expression remained unreadable. He didn’t look at them when he said, “She’s with Harry at the moment.”

Stefan and Kenny gaped at each other, then at the King as if they’d just heard something extremely outrageous.

“Harry?” Kenny blurted. “We were told that he–”

“A lot has happened since we sent our men to deliver the news to you,” Lance Devany cut her off. “But we still need you here, as you might be able to help us.”

Help them? How could two peasants help the King and the Queen?

Neither Kenny nor Stefan got a chance to question when Lance told the servants waiting by the carriage to take their luggage to their chamber. To the couple, he said, “Come. I’ll try to explain as we walk.”

“W-Where are we going, Your Majesty?” Kenny asked.

Seeing the horrified looks on their pale faces, Lance sighed and spun on his heels. “To the dungeon.”

Chapter 1: THE QUEEN

Ten months ago

Y/N woke up screaming. Outside, the sky was still dark. The snow was falling down lazily, and the only sound she could hear was the whistling of the wind through bare branches and her laboured breathing. She was alone in bed, dressed in her sweat-soaked nightgown. Her hands weren’t bloody, and Egon wasn’t on top of her with his rotten fingers wrapped around her throat.

The door swung open, and the warm glow of firelight from the corridor washed over the colourless carpet as a figure dashed into her chamber, sword drawn with a sharp whoosh.

Harry’s horrified eyes locked with her own. “Is everything all right?”

She nodded, her shoulders slumped. “Just a nightmare.”

Harry heaved a sigh as he put away his sword and looked around the bed-chamber to make sure it was really empty.

“Were you outside the whole time?” she asked when he turned away.

He looked hesitant, glanced at the bright corridor and then shook his head as if to say, ‘Fuck it’. He closed the door, allowing darkness to engulf them once again as he strode toward the bed and sat down in front of her. Beaming, he brushed her damp hair out of her forehead and planted a kiss on it. “Go back to sleep, Peach.”

“Harry—“

“I know, I know,” he said tiredly. “I was worried. That’s all.”

“You’re not my guard. You could just ask someone else to keep watch.”

Harry tilted his head, his mouth quirked a little. “I don’t trust the other guards. What if you decide to sleep naked?”

She smiled, hating herself for feeling relieved that it'd been him who'd guarded outside her door. It was riskier now that Lance was returning tomorrow; still, it wasn’t tomorrow yet.

“Can you stay with me until sunrise?” she asked, taking his hand and kissing his palm.

He considered her for a moment, but she already knew he wasn’t going to say no. Eventually, he nodded his head. “Scoot over.”

She giggled and made room for him under the covers. Harry slid in beside her, lying on his back with an arm behind his head, the other wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her in. She rested her head on his chest and snuggled close, feeling much safer now that he was here to keep bad dreams away.

Closing her eyes and counting his heartbeats, Y/N gradually fell back to sleep.

The next time she woke up was to Jo shouting at Harry to get out of the room. Harry launched himself out of the bed and combed his fingers frantically through his messy curls as Jo continued scolding at him. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Y/N realised that the sun was already hanging above the tallest trees outside her windows. Harry had overslept.

“No one has come in, right? Just you?” she calmly asked Jo, who stopped shouting to answer, “Yes, just me. What were you thinking, Y/N?!”

“Hey, you’re talking to the Queen, woman,” Harry said.

Jo smacked him hard on the arm, causing him to yelp and bounce back. “You slept in her bed,” Jo snapped. “You don’t get to speak morals here. Now get out!”

“Stop it. Both of you,” Y/N yawned as she swung her legs to the side of the bed and stretched her arms tiredly. Harry somehow managed to duck around Jo and pecked Y/N on the cheek before he sprang to the door, shouting, “Love you!”

Jo gasped and placed her hands on her hips, eyes widened at Y/N. Y/N only shrugged, unable to stop the smile blooming on her face. She stood up and leaned against a bedpost as Jo came to shut the door.

“Relax. We’ve been doing this for two months already.”

Jo rolled her eyes and repeated the same thing she always said, “You have to be more careful.” Then, she paused and wetted her lip. “Lance is returning today.”

“I know,” Y/N sighed, crossing her arms. “I get chills just from hearing his name.”

It was meant to be a joke, but Jo didn’t laugh.

“You’re going to marry Lance. Are you going to keep Harry around forever?”

Y/N shrugged. “Our people don’t care who’s in my bed every night or who’s in Lance’s, as long as I’m married to a king and he to a queen.”

“But does Harry care?”

Jo’s question froze her to the spot. She swallowed and lifted her shoulders. “He was the reason I agreed to marry Lance.”

“He did that for the sake of our kingdom, you know that. No man is happy that their woman is married to someone else, even just for an alliance between two kingdoms.”

Y/N looked at her friend funny. “I thought you hated Harry.”

“I hate both Harry and Lance,” Jo scoffed and stepped forward to cup Y/N’s face. “I’m worried for you. If this goes wrong, you’ll get hurt the most. I don’t want you to lose more than you've already lost.” When Y/N didn’t reply, Jo pressed her lips into a tight smile. “Now, let’s get you dressed to welcome your obnoxious future husband.”

“I'm hoooome! Where’s my beautiful bride?”

Y/N exhaled as all eyes in the room pinned on her. She was standing at one end of the table, her palms fanned out on the map of Isolde. They were in the middle of an important meeting, and the last thing she wanted was to be interrupted, especially when the interruption was called Lance Devanny. She could hear his voice all the way from the courtyard as soon as his retinue had arrived. For someone whose whole life was a huge question mark, Lance Devanny really did love the attention.

She cast a silent glance at Harry, who was standing beside the chief minister. He instantly knew what it meant and excused himself to leave the room so he could stop Lance before he got here. Before Harry could even reach the door, however, it swung open and Lance strutted in with that mischievous crooked grin on his stupidly handsome face.

“Are we having a celebration without me?” he asked, looking at Harry and then Y/N, who rolled her eyes and murmured, “It’s always a celebration without you.”

She saw Harry scowling at the King, who brushed right past him, straight toward her and swept her into his arms. She didn’t have a chance to react when he pressed his lips firmly against hers. Her eyes shot open, and she could see Harry’s jaw twitch as he turned away.

It felt weird, kissing Lance. He’d never kissed her on the mouth. Their charade had only included fake smiles and hand kisses and the most scandalous thing she’d done had been allowing him to put his hand on her back for the whole night, and even then, they’d had a loud fight afterwards.

How dare he kiss her right here in front of all her court?

Still, she couldn’t help but notice that he smelt like flowers. She’d expected him to smell like sweat and horses. After all, it’d been a long journey travelling on the road from Attwell to Isolde. But he smelt like flowers, and his lips were warm even though he’d just arrived in the cold. Strange. Well, at least now she knew Lance Devanny had a heart that was pumping blood to keep his body warm like a normal human being.

He drew back, her eyes locked with his for a second before he looked over his shoulder at Harry. Y/N didn’t know what it meant. Was that supposed to be an apology for kissing her in front of him? Or was it to flaunt that Lance could kiss her in front of Harry? Whatever the King’s reason was, Y/N would kill him after this.

“Is my baby dove happy to see me?” he asked and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She almost snorted. It was a joke between the two of them. He’d told her that he should call her lovely names like a man in love would call his consort, and she had hated all the options he’d proposed, like ‘my love’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘darling’, because those were for Harry to call her. So Lance had said, “How about ‘baby dove’?“

“Why a dove?” she’d questioned.

“Would you prefer ‘baby chicken’? Either is fine with me.”

It had been funny the first time he’d said it, and their guests at the time had looked so confused and uncomfortable (they probably weren’t used to a couple of monarchs who were actually fond of each other). But now that Harry was glowering at Lance and possibly her for looking more delighted than she should, ‘baby dove’ wasn’t so funny anymore.

All the courtiers in the room were watching them; Lance was putting up too good of a show for them to miss, and so she must play along. She cleared her throat and faked a smile as she pinched his cheek. “I’m so happy you’re here safe with us.”

Lance’s eyes popped open as she pinched as hard as she could, knowing he couldn’t cry out in pain otherwise they would know. When she released him, his cheek was so red she had to lean in and pretend to kiss it, only to whisper to him, “Do not kiss me again or I’ll make sure that’ll leave a bruise.”

She pulled back, smiling, and Lance rubbed the spot on his cheek as a corner of his mouth turned up; there was a fascinated look on his face.

Harry broke the silence, his tone flat and dry, “We’re in the middle of a meeting, Your Majesty.”

Y/N truly admired him for having kept his calm the entire time. If she’d seen someone kiss Harry, she would have jumped on the person like an angry bear.

“What about?” Lance asked. His joker character had been replaced by a stern expression – his mouth formed a straight line and his forehead puckered slightly. She wasn’t sure which version of him was the real Lance. Probably neither.

The chief minister spoke, gesturing to the red circles drawn on the map. “There have been some uprisings in the villages at the northern border.”

“The low courts were in on this?” Lance asked.

“No, not the low courts,” Y/N said. “Their people. I don’t know who started it but villages were burned and innocent people were killed.”

“When did it start?”

“After the Queen’s coronation,” Harry said. “You were in Attwell.”

Lance grimaced as he rested his right hand on his sword-hilt. She’d noticed that he did that a lot, as if touching his sword would bring him a sense of comfort, to which she could definitely relate. “So...two months ago, and no one bothered to write to me?” he asked, sounding a little betrayed.

Lance had left Isolde right after her coronation to return to Attwell. The people there were more open-minded than those in Isolde; they had actually welcomed Lance home with open arms, whereas her people had started burning villages and killing each other the second she’d been crowned. Sometimes, she wondered if it had anything to do with her sex. If she were a man, would they treat her like a hero instead of a sinner?

“This is my kingdom,” Y/N said, her voice rougher than she’d wanted it to be, and everyone started eyeing Lance. Maybe they didn’t expect their Queen to talk to her betrothed with such ferocity.

Despite her breaking character, Lance remained calm. “Your kingdom is my concern, too,” he said. “Just like how mine is yours. If your people are protesting against you, they’re protesting against us.”

Y/N stared at the red circles on the map and only dipped her chin in response.

The chief minister drew a breath. “A week ago, Commander Joaquin led our cavalry to put out the protests, and...he was killed on the way home.”

“Fuck,” Lance muttered, not caring who had heard him.

“Harry is our new commander,” said Y/N as she scratched the tip of her nose with her index finger, not looking at anyone. “He was the only one who stayed and fought to save Joaquin.”

“I’m sorry I failed,” Harry mumbled.

“It’s all right, son,” said the Lord Chancellor. “You did your best.”

Lance cast Harry a look. “Good job. I was wondering why you were here.”

Harry responded with a dry smile. “Funny. I was wondering the same thing about you”

Everyone was puzzled, but Y/N paid attention to neither of them. “Tomorrow we’re heading out to the border to bring supplies for the people in those burned villages. Winter is coming and they would not survive alone in the cold now that their homes are gone.”

It was the first time Y/N had seen Lance and Harry share the same look of concern. If they weren’t in a serious situation, she would probably tease them for it.

“What do you mean ‘we’?” asked Lance, tentatively. “It’s just a way of saying, right?”

Harry’s brows furrowed. “You’re not actually going, are you?”

“I am.” Y/N narrowed her eyes at both of them. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing. My commander died for me.”

“Which is why you shouldn’t be out there,” Lance cut her off. Was it genuine concern that she saw in his eyes, or was it just her desperation to find some sign that he was capable of having human feelings? “I’m going with them,” he asserted. “You stay home.”

She stepped toward him. He was a head taller yet she showed no sign of weakness. “Do not give me orders in my own court. You stay home.”

He pursed his lips, pretending to think for a second. “No, I don’t think so, baby dove.”

“I agree with the King, Your Grace,” said one of her advisors. She and Lance both turned to the man. “It’s too dangerous. We must keep you safe at all costs.”

Y/N shook her head. “If I showed fear to my own people, then it would prove that they were right about me. If I want their trust, I must trust them first.”

“You’re talking about the people who took innocent lives and burned down villages because they hate you,” Harry said; his voice was calm and steady yet fearful somehow.

She hated it when he sided with Lance.

“I’ll carry a sword and wear armour,” she told him. “And I can fight better than many of our men. Whatever it takes, I’m going.” Looks were exchanged, yet no one dared to object. “Meeting adjourned.” With that, she swept out of the room.

The door fell shut behind Y/N and the room erupted with whispers. Harry exchanged worried looks with Lance; he hadn’t thought there would be a day when he agreed with this bastard, and yet, the life in court kept surprising him.

While the chief minister was giving orders to the guards about protecting the Queen on the journey tomorrow morning, Harry slipped out of the room in silence. There were footsteps following him into the corridor. He kept on walking, but Lance was quick to catch up with him.

“Can you convince her to stay here tomorrow?” Lance asked.

Harry appreciated how passionate this man was about keeping Y/N alive. Still, it was irritating that he'd sounded sincere. Sometimes Harry actually believed this wasn’t at all an act to Lance and that he truly cared about Y/N. Would Harry prefer him not caring about Y/N?

“I can try but she won’t listen,” Harry said coldly.

Lance heaved a breath. “That woman is enjoying her power way too much.”

“And that frightens you?” Harry asked, this time, unable to suppress a smirk.

“Since she's going to be my wife, yes.”

Lance's answer pulled him to a stall. He spun and finally faced the King, who appeared too confident for Harry’s comfort.

“You do know your wedding to her would be fake, right?”

“I do.” Lance shrugged. “But do you?”

Harry pretended like he hadn’t heard the question. “I’ll find her and try to talk her out of it,” he lowered his voice. “But don’t ever kiss my girl like that again.”

Lance stood there with his shoulders squared and hands behind his back. Harry could feel Lance’s eyes on him as he walked away.

After having wandered all around the courtyard, he found Y/N at last and fell into steps beside her. She acknowledged him with a sideways stare and nothing more as she continued walking.

“You’re mad at me,” he said, breathless. She didn’t answer, her expression ice cold. “Hey, I’m sorry for what I said back then, I shouldn’t–”

“You shouldn’t have said anything at all,” she cut him off and whipped around, stabbing a finger at his chest. “You were supposed to be on my side.”

“I’m on the side that wants to keep you alive, Peach.”

“No, you’re on the side that underestimates me,” she snapped, crossing her arms and stretching to her full height. “Do you think Lance cares about me at all?”

Honestly? Yes, Harry thought, even though he shook his head in answer to her question.

“That’s right.” She nodded slowly. “That bastard doesn’t want me to go because he thinks I cannot defend myself. The only reason people are protesting is because they don’t want a queen to rule them. They don’t trust me to protect them if I can’t even protect myself. If only I can just show them–”

“Do you think the uprisings will stop once you’re married to Lance?”

She paused and blinked. “Are you saying that my people suspect that we’re faking it?”

“Probably.” He shrugged. “It’s been two months and you’re still not married.”

“There are so many other things to take care of,” she sighed and combed her fingers through the black waves of her hair. Sunlight filtered through the glass window on their right, making the gems on her crown sparkle like stars. He hated how they would be in the middle of a conversation and he would notice something pretty about her and get distracted. He snapped back to reality as she was saying, “...it’s a tradition that the royal wedding must be in the first month of Winter.” When he didn’t respond, she stepped closer and whispered as if she was afraid someone might be eavesdropping, “Are you...fine with this?”

He blinked. “With what?”

“Me marrying Lance,” she said, studying him with her eyes. “I just realised that I’ve never asked you how you felt about this.”

“I was the one who made you accept his proposal,” he said, working up a grin, which failed to distract her.

“You’re dodging the question.”

He pushed his hair back. “Well, as your most humble servant, I’m happy that you’re marrying Lance to secure the alliance between Isolde and Attwell. As your...lover in the dark, however,” she rolled her eyes and turned away to hide a smirk, “I want to smash his teeth in.”

Y/N covered her mouth as she let out an unladylike snort. “He’s got a pretty punchable face, hasn’t he?”

A grin stretched Harry’s lips. “I’m glad you agree.”

Y/N reached out and touched the hilt of Harry’s sword with her index finger, and he suddenly felt the urge to grab her hand and lace their fingers together. Still, his hands remained at his back.

“And the kiss…” she trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

“It’s all right,” he said despite himself. “Even the chief minister seemed convinced so…”

“Mmmm,” was her response before she withdrew her hand and her arm dropped back to her side.

Harry knew it wasn’t a good idea to turn the ship around after he’d just driven through a storm, but the longer he gazed at her, the more his heart ached as he couldn’t stop imagining her lying among the corpses on an open field. She hadn’t been there when they’d been ambushed. He’d watched people die all around him. Tomorrow wouldn’t be a fun excursion, and he didn’t want her to put her life at risk just to prove a point.

“Please consider not going tomorrow.” She threw her arms in the air as soon as he’d said it and yet he continued anyway, “You don’t know what it’s like. I was there when they killed Commander Joaquin. I couldn’t save him and I don’t want to lose you the same way.”

When their eyes met again, her smile had vanished, and now she looked furious. “And I was there when we thought we were losing the war against Calanthe’s family. My father was fighting side by side with his men on the battlefield while my mother and I were hiding underground with all the women in court. Why is it that my father had to be on his horse with a weapon in hand, and I have to stay home and wait for all my men to die before I do?”

Harry was tongue-tied at that. He felt like whatever he’d say next would only upset her more, even though it seemed quite impossible now. She worked her jaw, her gaze sharp and intense as she said, “Don’t ever give me orders in front of my court again. Not you, not Lance, not even my second-in-command is allowed. When I’m there, my decision is final.”

Her dress slapped the air with a whoosh as she stormed off, and Harry decided not to follow.

A feast was held to celebrate Lance’s visit, or return. Isolde would be his second home once he and Y/N had been married. Y/N felt bad that he would have to travel back and forth while she had not once visited Attwell, then the guilt shrank as soon as she remembered he’d been the one to propose this fake marriage.

There’d been so many times when she’d meant to ask him the same question she’d been asking herself – How long was he planning to do this?

Would he actually sacrifice his youth and a chance to marry someone he actually loved for the sake of his kingdom and do it so willingly? As annoying as he could be, she (like most people) was curious to find out who the real Lance was. But every time the question about this ‘foolproof plan’, as he’d called it, was about to roll off her tongue, Y/N would notice something that made her think Lance cared about nothing but himself. Sure, he cared about Attwell, but it was his kingdom. So it was also for his own benefits, wasn’t it?

Now they were sitting at the high table, watching a dance performance which wasn’t really that great. Y/N supposed it was more entertaining for the men to watch pretty ladies wearing masks and tight corsets (that made their bosoms look bigger and rounder) dancing in circles. Her eyes searched for Harry at one of the courtier tables and sighed in relief to see that he wasn’t watching the performance but laughing with one of her advisors. Well, at least one of us is having fun tonight, she thought.

“Hey, I’ve just discovered something.”

Y/N sighed, turned her eyes heavenward as Lance leaned in closer.

“That you’re extremely annoying?” she whispered back. “If so, then congratulations.”

“Adorable.” She wasn’t looking, but she could hear his obnoxious smirk. “No. I’ve just discovered the reason you wanted to go to the border with us.”

“With you?” She scoffed. “Darling, you’ll be going with us. We’re not yet married and you’re still a guest in my home.”

He didn’t argue with her this time. “To prove to your people that you’re unafraid isn’t the only reason, is it?” he pressed on. “You want to protect him.”

Y/N stiffened in her seat, still, she managed to keep a straight face as she picked up her goblet and took a sip. The wine stung her throat, and she grimaced slightly.

Lance didn’t care if she was ignoring him on purpose; he casually went on, “You weren’t there when he almost lost his life saving Joaquin, so you want to be there this time to make sure he won’t die a hero and a fool. Unfortunately, you cannot tell him that, because he'd have another reason to believe that you shouldn't go. So you'd rather let him believe that it's all because of your pride and that you're doing it for you, not him. Am I correct?"

Yes, she wanted to say, but that's not the whole reason.

Y/N couldn’t tell Lance that, ever since the day Harry had returned with her commander’s blood on his clothes and a wounded leg as a reminder for what had happened, she’d been having nightmares about losing him. They’d be in the middle of a battle, stumbling over muddy corpses, and she would witness someone drive a shiny blade through Harry’s chest. She’d run toward him but she could never reach him in time.

She hadn’t told anyone about those dreams, because after all, they were just dreams. But she’d had many dreams where she’d killed her brother and bled out beside him. Now her brother was dead, and the invisible wound deep inside of her never stopped bleeding.

She couldn’t tell Lance any of that, and so she sneered at him. “So you figured it out? What do you want as a reward? A ribbon?”

Lance tilted his head. His cheeks were a bit red and his eyes weary from the long trip and lack of sleep. At this moment, he looked more human than he’d ever been, far from this mortal God everyone kept portraying him as.

Y/N didn’t realise she was staring until his mouth curled to its favoured side. “Hey, I’m supposed to be the snarky one here. You’re stealing my show.”

He reached for his goblet but she seized it and pulled it toward her. “I think you’re drunk and talking nonsense.”

He let out a chuckle, resting his chin on his knuckles. The way his eyes bored into her made her uncomfortable. “You told me you’d protect him,” he said. “You said that when I recruited him for the army.”

“So?”

“Remember what I said to you?”

She averted her eyes, looking back at the dancing girls. The music was too loud and the people were too drunk; no one cared enough to eavesdrop their conversation. She licked her lip and finally answered, “That you’d protect me.”

“That’s right,” Lance said. “For you, I’ll keep him alive tomorrow so you don’t have to go.”

“Thank you,” she replied flatly, glaring sideways at him. “But I don’t trust you. I couldn't even trust you to saddle my horse without stealing the reins.”

Her comment made him toss his head back and laugh. “Your man is the con artist here. Not me.”

“You’re a pirate.”

“Captain.” He smoothed his hair back.

“Big difference.”

“And I was. Not anymore.”

“You still didn’t tell me about it. I know nothing of your past so I cannot trust you. How am I to know you won’t be the first person to put an arrow through his heart the second we’re under attack?”

Lance’s face grew grim as he exhaled. “No matter what you believe, my lady,” his voice lowered, “we’re very alike.”

“We’re nothing alike,” Y/N snorted. “Your people love you.”

“Do you think they’ll mourn for me when I die?”

“They’ll have to. You’re their King.”

Lance shook his head slightly. The fun Lance was gone, and instead, she saw the solemn face from the meeting today.

“Mourning for someone because you have to and doing it because you care, are two very different things,” he said. “Your family is as dead as mine, but you’ve got Jo and Harry. Even though they don’t understand what you’re going through, at least they’ll be by your side to pull you up every time you fall. I’ve been on my own since I was born. My mother died before she even knew me, and my father never wanted me.”

He stopped at that, and from his troubled expression, she realised he hadn’t meant to reveal so much about himself. It wasn’t a lot. He hadn’t told her his birthplace or his favourite food or anything private, and yet it was probably more than he’d ever revealed to a stranger. Was she a stranger? Did she care? They weren’t here to make friends; they were simply sitting together because of their mutual enemy.

“I wonder what you were like as a boy,” she said, changing the subject.

His playful smirk reappeared. “What are your theories?”

Her mouth twisted as she regarded him. “I imagine a younger version of you, but with the same bothersome attitude.”

“Ahhh, that is quite true. I was born holding a dagger. My first word was ‘murder’ and I joined the army as soon as I learned to walk.”

To both his and her surprise, Y/N burst out laughing. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her maids at the threshold whispering to each other, hinting at her and Lance. It might be strange to them that she and the King of Attwell didn’t seem like they wanted to murder each other. No, not each other. Like she wanted to murder him.

She gave him a nudge. “I expect you to go straight to your chamber after this. No fooling around with my maids.”

The King raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused. “What’s that? Is my baby dove jealous?”

She did a disgusted face. “I’d only stopped hating you for one second and you just had to ruin it. No, I don’t want them to think they’ve got a chance to become your mistress and my equal. That’s another rule for this marriage of ours. No mistresses. It’ll get too complicated.”

Most of the kings in history had taken mistresses. Y/N’s father and uncle had been the only ones she knew who’d had only one woman for the rest of his life.

Lance narrowed his eyes as he said, “Not fair if you get to fool around with Harry.”

“Harry and I are in love.”

“So when I fall in love with someone, I’m allowed to make her my mistress?”

“You’re allowed to see her behind my back. I won't have mistresses in my court.”

Lance stuck out his bottom lip. “I never thought one day I’d get to hear my betrothed say, ‘You’re allowed to see another woman behind my back.’”

“Aww,” Y/N said with feigned pity. “Did baby Lance really think he’d get to marry for love?”

Lance laughed drily and said nothing as he retrieved his goblet from her side of the table. She watched him finish the wine with one go and wave at a servant boy to pour him some more. Maybe she was just drunk, or maybe he seemed a bit wounded by her harmless joke.

Harry was just about to call for a servant when a lady’s skirt swept right past and obscured his view. Fluttering a fan in her hand, Jo smiled down at him, and he rolled his eyes and said, “I don’t want to dance with you.”

She shoved him aside and flopped down onto the seat beside him. “I wasn’t going to ask,” she said, her smile gone. “I don’t even want to touch you.”

He folded his arms on the table and arched an eyebrow at her. “It’s not my fault that I was born with male parts.”

She looked him up and down in a condescending manner. “Were you? Sometimes I really can’t tell.”

Harry rolled his eyes and turned his eyes back to the high table where Y/N and Lance were chatting. It was odd that they actually seemed to get along tonight. Harry knew the laughing was real because he could tell when his Peach faked it. He knew her too well, which was more a curse than a gift sometimes.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Jo asked. She was also glaring at the King and Queen.

“Hopefully not me,” he murmured.

She snapped her head to him. “What did you do?”

“I said something during the meeting and she got upset.”

“She’s the Queen, moron. You don’t get to speak to her like you sleep in her bed.”

“I do sleep in her bed–Ouch!”

Jo didn’t look at all guilty for hitting him with her fan. “You know what I meant. You don’t get to contradict her. That job belongs to her advisors. People already underestimate her abilities as a ruler, she can't have just anyone tell her what to do. ”

Harry already knew that, but when they were discussing the matter of her life and death, he could not just standby and regret it afterwards. Instead of admitting it to Jo, he sighed and changed the subject, “What are your thoughts on him?”

“You mean...do I trust him?” She shifted her gaze from Lance back to Harry, her forehead puckered. “The answer is no for both of you. Men, in general.”

“I’m serious,” he scoffed. “I think he’s got feelings for her. You should have seen his reaction to Y/N saying she’s going to the border tomorrow.”

“She’s going to the border tomorrow?!”

“Exactly.” Harry pointed a finger at Jo’s face. “That.”

“Well, she can’t go! She’ll get killed!”

“I’ve tried to convince her but...you know her.”

“Maybe she’ll listen to me,” Jo said.

“You cannot tell her, Jo. I don’t think I’m even allowed to talk about it to you.”

“Right, right.” Jo breathed out in frustration. To his surprise, she touched his arm, gently. “Promise me if something bad happens you'll protect her.”

“Of course,” Harry said. What he meant was, ‘I’ll try.’ Commander Joaquin had died in his arms, and he’d also tried to save the poor man. He’d have to try twice harder if they were ambushed again. This time, unlike the last, they knew what to expect.

“Lance will come with us, too,” he said, trying to sound hopeful. “He’ll also protect her.”

“I thought you didn’t trust him.”

“I don’t. In general.” Harry lifted his shoulders. “But I trust him to protect her.”

Jo’s jaw tightened as she rubbed the back of her neck and traced her fingertip around the rim of her goblet. “Come to think about it,” she began, “they’ve got a lot in common. He was always the black sheep of his family, never thought he’d fit in, was a rebel who travelled from place to place, murdered his own brother, and now at twenty years old, he’s ruling a kingdom on his own and his family’s dead. Sometimes I fear there are things about her that he can understand better than we’ll ever be able to.”

Through the dancing crowd, Harry caught Y/N’s eyes and returned a beam as she waved at him subtly. He forced himself not to think about what Jo had just said, but the last sentence kept lingering in his mind.

When the bell in the courtyard chimed twelve times at midnight, Y/N was sitting on the carpet in front of the fireplace, back against her bed. She was wearing a nightgown, her hair falling loose down to her back. She should have gone to sleep early so she could wake up before dawn, but instead, she sat there and watched the hypnotising flame licking at the wood. The door of her chamber creaked open at last, and a dark figure slipped inside. His footsteps were light, but she knew who he was the second she heard it.

She didn’t look until he’d sat down beside her, crossing his legs and leaning back against the foot of her bed. In the warm orange glow, his cheeks looked redder than she assumed they actually were. She could smell the wine wafting from his clothes, and he seemed to have noticed the tiredness in her eyes, because he stroked her cheekbone with his knuckles and asked, “Are you feeling well? Should I get a physician?”

“No, I’m fine.” She took his hand and held it with both of hers. “I just...I just want to talk to you,” she said. “And apologise for the way I reacted this morning.”

“You don’t have to apologise for anything.” Harry beamed at her. “I should apologise for crossing the lines. Sometimes I forgot that you’re a queen and I should love you like I should love a queen.”

“How do you love a queen?” she asked, teasingly.

He shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve never loved a queen before.”

“I can tell.” Her eyebrows wiggled and he snorted as she scooted closer and laid her head on his shoulder.

They were quiet for a long moment, and the only thing that told her he hadn’t fallen asleep was his tight grip on her fingers. “This reminds me of that night in the cave,” she said nonchalantly. “It was easier then, wasn’t it?”

“Peach,” he said with a light chuckle. “We nearly got lost, died in a snowstorm and froze to death.”

She felt her smile growing. “Still easier than this. It’s always easier when there’s just the two of us.”

There was a pause, and when he spoke, she could sense that his smile was gone. “You’re right. But as long as we’ve still got those memories, we can revisit them when things get rough.” Then he kissed the top of her head. “Now get some rest. We’re leaving early in the morning.”

She pulled back to look at him. “You’re not staying?”

“I can’t risk it. I might oversleep again,” he said with a hand at the back of her head. When he saw her frowning, his brows pinched together. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She could already feel her lip quivering as she clutched his fingers a bit too tight. “What if this is a terrible idea, Harry? What if I’m not...meant to be Queen?”

“Hey.” He cupped her face with both hands. “You are meant to be Queen. You’ve gone through a lot to be here. You deserve this.” As though he could read her thoughts of self-doubt, he schooled his face and went on, “I’ll tell you who you are in case you’ve forgotten. Your name is Y/N. First daughter of King Willem. The rightful heir to the throne. The rightful ruler of the high court of Isolde. The saviour in the prophecy. And most importantly, you’re my Peach, the love of my life. And whatever’s going to happen tomorrow, we’re going to be together and we’ll fight together just like we’ve done before. Whatever happens, I believe in you, all right?”

She mustered a smile and nodded once, reaching up to place her hands over his. He pulled her in for a passionate kiss and when he let go, she craved for more. She wanted to beg him to stay as he got to his feet and the nightmares crept back into her head like shadows waiting for the lights to go out so they could turn on you.

“I love you,” she blurted, sounding hopeless for a reason she could not explain.

Harry stopped at the door, turned around, and smiled. “I love you, too.”

Then he slipped through the gap and disappeared into the firelit corridor.

(end of chapter 1)

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heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Chapter 7: Shadow And Moonlight

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which the woods try to tell Y/N something.

Word count: 3.6k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

“Don’t move.”

Harry hissed into his palm as he peeked through the gap between his fingers to watch Y/N tending to his wound. His hand had been burned slightly, but nothing too severe.

Y/N had managed to find some healing herbs in the forest. She chewed them in her mouth and spat onto the burn, amused by the way Harry’s face contorted with disgust.

“Yuck.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said mockingly. “Would you like it to be infected?”

A corner of his mouth raised as he watched her bandage his hand with a piece of fabric she’d torn from her coat. “How did you know how to do this?”

“I read,” she said with a grin. “It’s great. You should try it sometimes.”

Y/N wasn’t sure if it was the cold or he was shy, but she’d just seen a bit of colour in his cheeks. Harry averted his eyes immediately, looking at his bandaged hand. And there it was again – that sinking feeling in her stomach.

When they’d managed to escape from the burning house, Y/N had regretted her decision to continue the journey. But as she was looking at Harry now and thinking about how she could lose him any moment, she was more determined to find the lake.

They didn’t talk about what had happened. Y/N wanted to talk about it, but she hated to acknowledge it. She hated that she didn’t have an explanation for the things that she’d seen. For all she could tell, it’d been magic. And magic didn’t always have answers.

Harry probably felt the same way for he’d been quiet this whole time. They were both thinking of the same thing and keeping their guards up. And maybe that was enough to keep them alive for now.

The sun was setting. They’d gone far from the house, killed two rabbits and cooked them for lunch and dinner. They and the horses were too exhausted so they’d decided to camp in the woods for the night, hoping there wouldn’t be another storm, otherwise they’d have no shelter and get buried in the snow.

“Impressive,” Harry said as he watched Y/N make a fire. “It’s like you grew up outside the castle.”

She didn’t say anything about that compliment, didn’t even remind him that he’d been the one who’d taught her that. The more he said things like this, the more she felt like she didn’t know him anymore. He was slowly turning into somebody else. And she must admit that there had been moments when she’d thought she was gradually falling out of love with him. But then, she’d think about that kiss in the burning house. That had felt similar, hadn’t it?

“You kissed me.”

Y/N started as she dropped the stick she was holding and gaped at Harry. He was looking straight at her, his eyes round and full of wonder as he said, “In the house. You kissed me, right? Or was it just an illusion?”

“Yes, I kissed you,” she admitted, not looking at him as she added more wood to the fire. She could still feel his eyes burning holes on the side of her face.

“Why?” he asked.

“I needed to shock you,” she replied coolly. “I pricked my finger and it pulled me back to reality. So I thought–I just...didn’t want to hurt you.”

Harry chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” she asked him. “I saved your life, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did, Your Majesty,” he said with a polite smile. “I’m just imagining His Majesty’s face when he hears about all the things we’ve done to survive.”

Y/N mustered a smile at him, ignoring the jab in her stomach. “Well, let’s hope you’ll survive until my husband kills you.”

Harry didn’t say anything about that, but the smirk never faltered on his face. It made Y/N all flustered so she had no choice but to pretend that he wasn’t there and mind her own business.

They ate the rest of the rabbit, and it was night again. The stars and the moon were visible tonight. They could be seen through the branches overhead, so there might not be a storm and Harry and Y/N would be safe. At least if they were careful enough to not fall into another trap.

“We should take turns keeping watch during the night,” Harry said.

“Good idea. I’ll take the first watch.”

“No–”

“I insist,” said Y/N as she secured the fur coat around herself and sat down by a large rock. “I can’t sleep now anyway so…”

“All right,” Harry sighed, stretching his limbs and yawning. “Wake me up when you’re tired.”

“Sure.”

And so he lay down on the ground beside her, all wrapped up in his coat with his back facing her. She couldn’t help but stare, wanting to run her fingers down his spine or through his hair and kiss him goodnight. But all she could do was watch in silence and repeat those three words in her head so she wouldn’t forget what they sounded like.

“You were very brave.”

Y/N was taken aback. She blinked, for a moment thinking she’d misheard it. But then he went on, not turning to face her, “Thank you for not abandoning me there.”

She felt a smile growing on her face. “Can’t even look at me as you say thank you?” she asked, laughing so he knew it was a joke.

Harry laughed too, quietly. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to see you blush. Wouldn’t be able to sleep if I kept thinking about it.”

Y/N was left speechless. She worked her jaw for a response that never came. But Harry didn't seem to expect anything from her; he drifted right off, his shoulder rising and falling as he snored softly.

Y/N put both arms around herself, feeling goosebumps pimple her skin as a cool breeze blew right through her clothes. This was the first time she’d spent the night in these woods. She’d heard tales about them when she’d been little. The kinds of tales that were used to scare naughty children. And after what had happened in that house, Y/N was very convinced that those tales were all real.

Once you had stepped into the darkness of these woods and felt the cold pass through you, the trees would swallow all memory of light and they would know all your secrets, the stories you’d kept hidden inside the cage of your chest. The trees whispered, too. They could be taunting Y/N right now, making her think she was safe and getting her when she least expected.

She pinched her eyes closed and took a deep breath before observing the lines of tall soldier trees standing guard around them. It was all so quiet, but why did she feel like something was out there.

She imagined a beast or shadow with hooked claws and grim eyes. A thing the forest kept, waiting for the right moment to release.

Her fingers twitched as fear rose at the base of her throat. She hated this feeling building inside her. She was her mother’s daughter. She should not be afraid of invisible things. But then again, when it came to things she did not understand and could not explain, she should be afraid.

“Come.”

Y/N jumped when she heard the voice. It wasn’t Harry’s. He was still sleeping. She whipped her head around, trying to locate where it’d come from but she could not.

“Come.”

There it was again. The voice of a woman. Somebody was here. Somebody was hiding in the dark, camouflaged by the trees, silently watching them.

Heart pounding out of rhythm, Y/N tapped Harry on the shoulder. “Harry, I heard something.”

There was no response.

“Harry, wake up. Harry!” She shook his shoulder harder. He still did not budge. If he weren’t still breathing, she would assume he was dead. It was almost like he could not feel or hear her.

She took a second to calm herself down and study her surroundings. Moonlight peeked through the trees, pale and lonely, bathing her skin. Bare branches above looked like skeleton fingers waiting patiently to grab her when she slept. She held her breath, straining her ear to listen to the voice. But she heard nothing. Moments had passed, and still, nothing.

It was not real. The mountain had a way of getting inside your head—playing tricks on those who dared to walk among the pines long after the sun had set. These woods were wild and rugged and unkind. They could not be trusted.

Feeling anxious, she added some more sticks to the fire and sat there hugging her knees to her chest, staring at the flame. She thought about her mother, trying to hold onto those few precious fading memories of her childhood to put herself at ease.

Suddenly, a branch cracked.

Y/N’s head snapped up like a hunter expecting her prey.

Or maybe she was the prey all along.

“Come.”

It was the voice again.

Soft like silk.

Longing like a distant memory.

Y/N covered her ears as the voice kept repeating the same word over and over again. It only grew clearer as she tried to block it out. The voice was coming from inside her head.

Her skin pricked with gooseflesh.

And when she opened her eyes again, she saw it.

A white deer glowing in the blackness of night. It stood between the trees, watching her silently with its eyes gleaming like the brightest stars. She stared back at the animal, holding her breath, wondering if it was just a figment of her imagination or such creature did exist in these magical woods. Everything could seem and feel real until it wasn’t. Like the house. Like this entire journey. She could be dreaming.

Wide eyes stayed fixed on the deer, she reached for Harry, but he was not there. She snapped her head to the side and found him gone. So were the horses and their weapons and supplies. She was all alone. She pressed her fists to her heart, feeling its violent beats as she prayed that this wasn’t real. Then, the fire went out. Y/N recoiled, shaking all over. What was happening?

She could still feel the creature watching her. So she slowly opened her eyes and saw that the deer was glowing even brighter than before. It was the only source of light now. The moon had been obscured by the clouds. As the light from the creature’s skin touched her own, it was warm and put her at east. So when the creature nodded its head to ask her to follow, she hurriedly pushed herself off the ground and went after it.

This is a dream. This is a dream. This. Is. A. Dream, she kept telling herself as she made her way around the trees. The air was cold and damp. Y/N breathed slowly as she moved forward, stepping carefully, deliberately, over fallen logs and frozen flowers. She didn’t know how far she’d followed the deer. She didn’t remember walking. Her steps felt so light it was like she was being carried.

The next thing she knew, she was heading towards a cliff. The moon was so big it looked like a giant eye or a face in the sky. Y/N was so taken by the moon that she did not see the deer transforming into a woman. The woman was dressed in a white gown. She stood on the edge of the cliff, her white hair flying like a silvery stream.

Just like the deer, she was glowing, too.

“W-Who are you?” Y/N asked, but the woman didn’t answer nor turn around. And when Y/N opened her mouth to ask again, the woman whipped her head to her left, revealing her face for the first time. She was a young girl, about Y/N’s age or even younger.

Curious, Y/N looked to where the girl was staring at and saw a dark figure. A man. He didn’t pay a single glance at Y/N, so Y/N knew he could not see her either. He and the moonlight lady rushed toward each other for a strong tight embrace. They were both young and beautiful. But Y/N had never seen them before.

The man was dressed in all black. The girl in all white.

Shadow and moonlight.

This wasn’t just an ordinary dream. It was trying to tell Y/N something.

But what?

“Your Majesty!”

Y/N’s eyes popped open when she heard it. Harry’s face rushed into view, and she flinched at the touch of his fingers on the side of her face. He immediately jumped back, raising both hands in the air.

“What—” She looked around, baffled. They were now standing at the same spot by the fire. The horses were still here. Moonlight still cast eerie shadows on the snow. But there was no deer. No girl. No mystery man.

“Were you sleepwalking?” Harry asked, looking concerned. “I woke up and saw you just standing here staring into nothing…”

“No,” she said, tearing her eyes from his. “I thought I heard something. That’s all.”

Harry’s forehead puckered slightly. He didn’t believe her. “Your Majesty, if something’s wrong, you must tell me.”

“Nothing’s wrong. Don’t worry,” she murmured, forcing a smile.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “So you weren’t sleepwalking?”

“No.”

His eyes locked with hers for a second as if he was trying to detect a lie. To her relief, he exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair. “All right. Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

Y/N didn’t say another word to Harry as she came to lie down by the fire. For some reason, she could feel someone watching them. It was the woods. They were always watching. And when she fell asleep, she saw the face of the white-haired girl inside the giant moon.

“Your Majesty!”

“Get out.”

Jo’s mouth fell open as she smacked her palm onto her chest, acting shocked, frozen in the doorway. Lance probably expected her to leave immediately, and when she didn’t, he tore his eyes from the book he’d been reading and glanced up at her. He cocked an eyebrow, looking annoyed. “I said–”

“A maid told me you'd called for me,” she said.

Lance opened his mouth, probably about to tell her off when he seemed to have remembered calling for her, so his mouth snapped shut at once. The smug grin she was giving him must have got him all bashful as he cleared his throat and combed his fingers through his raven hair. “Well, I was going to ask you a few things but I figured it out on my own.”

“All right,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I guess I should go now?”

“Yes.”

She picked up her skirt and gave a curtsy. “Good night, Your Majesty.”

“Wait. Actually–” Lance heaved a sigh as he rose from his chair. “I think I’ve discovered something.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Close the door,” he said.

Jo did as she was told then padded over to the desk where Lance had laid out two tall piles of books. This was what he’d been doing for the last few days. Research. Y/N had almost died twice. And at this point, Jo guessed Lance was done just sitting at one place and doing nothing.

Isolde had been at peace since their Queen had left, but it could be the calm before a huge storm. Jo didn’t know much about politics, but she knew Lance had been losing sleep over what Calanthe might have up her sleeve, and also for Y/N’s safety.

As Jo watched him flip through the pages of the huge dusty old book, she could not help but watch the ring on his finger glowing red.

Y/N, she thought, when are you coming home?

“From what we’ve learned from Mary,” Lance said, snapping her back to reality. “This group of people called The Monks believe in one ruler. They want to believe it’s Calanthe so they’re on her side, giving her advice and will fight for her in the battle.”

“If you’re asking me for more information, I haven’t got any,” Jo sighed. “I barely talk to the witch.”

It was true. She now shared the room with the witch who’d erased Harry’s memory of Y/N. Jo didn’t care that the witch no longer had magic. It was best to keep her distance and be guarded at all times.

“No, not that.” Lance shook his head. “I just found something fascinating.” And pointed to the page. “King Lokesh. The first High King in the North was thought to be the one ruler, too. The Monks were on his side during the war with his brothers.”

“It was a useless war. There was no winner. That was how one hundred kingdoms were divided into four high courts.”

“True.” Lance raised a finger. “But Lokesh didn’t rule for long. He died after only two months on the throne and the crown was passed onto his eldest son. It was said that he’d died of a mysterious illness.”

Jo grimaced as she tapped her fingers on the table. “What does that have to do with us?”

Lance clenched his jaw, his thick brows knitted. “Do you think The Monks have something to do with his death?”

“You mean they killed him?”

Lance nodded. “Because he was not the chosen one.”

Jo took a moment to think then shook her head. “I don’t know why you’re worried. I’m actually hoping they’ll kill Calanthe when they realize she’s useless.”

Lance pursed his lips before letting out a sharp breath. He closed the book and crossed his arms as he leaned against the table. “Do you think I’m being paranoid?”

“A little,” Jo scoffed. “But I get it. It’s been stressful for us both.”

Lance was quiet for a moment, his gaze glued to his feet. “I really hope she’ll make it home. With or without finding the lake.”

“So do I,” Jo said. But the voice inside her head was quick to add, With or without Harry.

She felt bad about it, of course. Harry had been unbearable at times yet he didn’t deserve what he was getting. After all, he’d lived and died for Y/N. And Jo’s ultimate mission in life was only to make Y/N happy and keep Y/N safe.

She returned to her room with those heavy thoughts clinging onto her and almost forgot that she wasn’t alone. Her heart jumped as she stepped in and saw the girl with a damaged face sitting on the bed beside hers, dressed in a white nightgown like a ghost.

“Where were you?” Mary asked, giving a smile that crinkled her good eye.

Jo tried not to show how disgusted she was as she walked straight to the fireplace to add some wood to it.

Mary was quiet for a moment, either waiting for Jo to speak or thinking of what to say next. Eventually, she broke the silence, “You cannot not speak to me forever.”

Jo could. In fact, she was doing it now.

“How’s the Queen?” Mary persisted.

Jo didn’t want her to be doing this all night, so she decided to answer this one. “Alive.”

“Good, good,” Mary said, laughing nervously. There was a three-second pause. “Hey, I was wondering...um...since you were the last person to see my sister...h-how was she when she left?”

“She was happy,” Jo said without any emotion in her voice. Then she suddenly felt bad about it and added, “I didn’t really know her, but she seemed like a nice person.”

“You’re a nice person, too,” Mary said. This time, Jo cast a glance at her and saw her grinning. “Maggie wouldn’t just save anyone.”

Jo would tell Mary that Maggie had done it for Y/N, not for her, but she didn’t want this to turn into a conversation. She stayed quiet and walked back to her bed, but Mary had already got up and got in her way. She stopped, second-guessing what Mary would do next when the witch took her hand and squeezed it tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Mary said.

Jo was too shocked to pull back so she just stood there like a statue. “About?”

“The Queen. I know you–” Mary stopped herself at once, yet Jo already knew what she was going to say. It wasn’t hard to tell how she felt about Y/N. “Also,” Mary went on, her hands turning warm as they held Jo’s. “I’m sorry about your baby.”

It’d been so long since someone had last mentioned it. Jo felt like her wound which had recently healed was sliced open again. She stared at Mary unblinkingly. And somehow Mary thought it was a great idea to continue adding salt to her injury. “We’re more alike than you think, Josephine,” Mary said, lacing her fingers with Jo’s.

Jo immediately shoved herself away from the witch. Mary opened her mouth to speak but Jo didn’t give her a chance. “No.” She held up a finger and took a step back. “We’re nothing alike. You’re a witch. Look at you. You’re...you’re–”

Ugly. Evil. Heartless. Manipulative. Pretentious.

“Just...do not touch me ever again,” Jo said under her breath.

“I’m so sorry,” Mary said to her but she didn’t bother to hear it. She turned abruptly and stormed out of the room. This was all too much for her to take. She would have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #tctm series #princess!y/n #queen!y/n #harry styles series

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heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Chapter 9: To The Grave

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which Harry remembers something.

Word count: 5.3k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

Jo lit a lantern in the corner, shut the window, and started changing out of her heavy dress into her nightgown. She could feel Mary's intrusive gaze burning holes on her naked back. She tried to ignore it. She tried to ignore Mary. She didn't know how long she'd have to share a room with this witch. Probably until Y/N returned.

If Y/N returned.

Unfortunately, she couldn't even worry about that in peace with the witch stalking her like her own shadow.

"Don't you have better things to do than watch me change?" she asked, wrapping a thin coat around herself as she padded straight to her bed. She wasn't looking at Mary, yet she could feel a smile in the witch's voice.

"You're very pretty."

Jo thought about saying thanks. But she didn't. Mary didn't deserve her thanks. "Go to sleep," she said. "There's a lot to do tomorrow."

As Jo lay down on her back, pulled the covers up to her chest and placed her hands on her stomach, Mary was still sitting crossed-legged on the bed beside her, watching.

"I'm serious. Go to sleep."

"I can't."

"Lie down and close your eyes."

There was only silence. Mary still wasn't moving. Jo let out a harsh sigh then turned over, facing away from the witch. "Stay up then. I don't care."

"Thank you for today."

Jo hadn't expected that, so she was speechless for a moment. "What do you mean?"

Mary giggled softly. "I thought you hated me after what I'd said the other day."

Jo scoffed and shook her head. "All I did today was let you help the maids. It didn't change how I felt about you."

"Oh," Mary replied quietly. She sounded so sad that Jo almost apologised. But then Jo remembered that the whole reason Y/N was out there on her own on this cold winter night was because of Mary, and she immediately stopped feeling guilty.

"Thank you anyway," Mary whispered as Jo didn't speak. Jo heard the sound of sheets ruffling, and the candle beside Mary's bed was blown out. Darkness engulfed the room. Jo shut her eyes and listened to the crackling sound of wood logs burning in the fireplace. The Northwind was whistling outside her window. She let her mind wander, wondering what Y/N might be doing right now, if Harry was still alive, if Lance was still awake.

Those thoughts turned to worry, and worry kept her alert. She ended up lying there, staring at the window. Moonlight left a white square on the carpet. She could see the snowflakes twirling slowly as they fell. Her heartbeats slowed and her breathing became in sync with Mary's. She suddenly wondered if Mary had already nodded off. Why would she care, though? It didn't matter if Mary was awake or not.

"You can't sleep, either?"

The voice startled her even though it was the softest she'd ever heard. She looked over her shoulder to see Mary with her eyes wide open, gazing at the ceiling. Mary turned slowly, and their eyes locked in the semi-darkness. A smile messed up her already scarred face as she spoke, "You know what my sisters and I used to do when we couldn't sleep?"

Jo hated herself for wanting to continue this conversation. "What?" she asked with a sigh.

Mary excitedly sat up on the bed like a happy child. "We braid each other's hair! Distraction and concentration will get us sleepy."

"I'm not braiding your hair, witch."

"Oh, I'd do yours. You don't have to do mine. You have really pretty hair."

Jo squeezed her eyes shut as she exhaled sharply. "Fine."

"Yes!"

Jo pushed herself up. Mary got out of her bed. Instead of sitting down, she stood there, waiting for permission. Jo was probably too exhausted to think straight because, for a second, she thought it was so nice of her.

She scooted over and patted down on the mattress. Mary sat down crossed-legged as Jo turned her back to the witch, letting her luscious blonde hair fall to her lower back. She and Y/N used to do this all the time. Y/N wasn't good at lady-like things. Mary, on the other hand, was rather skilful.

"You were telling the truth. You've done this a lot," Jo remarked.

"What do you mean?" Mary giggled. "Why would I lie about braiding my sisters' hair?"

"I'm sorry. Trust issues," Jo said, making Mary giggle again. It was then that Jo realized that she liked the sound of it.

"I used to braid Y/N's hair. Not since she was crowned Queen, though."

"Because the King was always here?"

"Yeah," Jo said, trying not to sound sad or disappointed. She waited for Mary's intrusive questions, knowing she had plenty of those piling on her tongue. But there was only silence. "Go on. Say it."

"What?"

"I know you want to say something."

"Oh." Mary let out a snort, her fingers frozen in Jo's hair. "I just wanted to say that...the Queen is so lucky to be adored by so many people."

Jo curved her lips. "Well, I wouldn't say 'lucky'. Too much of something is never a good thing. Even if it's love."

"I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I've never been loved. Never would be," Mary said, sounding more amused than upset and resumed working on the braid. "I was beautiful, you know."

"Yes. Y/N told me."

"Harry thought I looked like her."

"I could imagine."

"And I used to think that looks were all that mattered, but that's not true."

Jo swallowed as her shoulders slumped. She had thought beauty was a weapon, too. Using it so freely had been the biggest mistake she'd ever made. Sometimes she thought if it hadn't been for her, maybe Harry and Y/N never would have met. It wouldn't mean Y/N would love her, but maybe they would have run away together and have a new life in a cottage somewhere in the forest, far away from here, safe. Even so, she knew this was Y/N's destiny, and she was just a boring side character in it.

"Done," Mary said. Her cold fingers rested on Jo's bare shoulders, making her flinch. Jo thought about pulling away, but Mary gave her shoulders a squeeze and it was so comforting that Jo didn't even want to move.

"You're right," she said, staring at the moonlight on the floor. "I'm getting quite sleepy now."

"So am I," Mary said, yawning. Her fingers slipped right off Jo's skin, and Jo could finally let go of the breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"Good night, Josephine," Mary said.

"Good night," Jo said, lying back down with her back facing Mary.

"Your Majesty! The emissary from Theros is waiting for you in the throne room."

All eyes skipped to Lance, who was sitting at the end of the meeting table. The announcement had struck him like lightning. He wasn't expecting any emissary, especially one from Theros.

"What's his name?" Lance asked, leaning back in his high chair.

"Lord Wallace, Your Grace."

George Wallace. Lance had met him once at one of Lance's father's annual balls. If Lance remembered correctly, Wallace was a short fat man with a kind face. He used to be King Edgar's most trusted advisor. The fact that he'd travelled all the way here on Calanthe's command was rather suspicious, yet it was unbelievable that he could be a part of Calanthe's evil scheme.

"Would you like to see him now or should I–"

"I'll see him now," Lance said, rising from his chair. The ministers all rose and bowed their heads as Lance made his way to the door and followed the guard into the corridor.

Did George Wallace know that Y/N was absent? Would he still speak to Lance without the Queen's presence? Should Lance be concerned already? There hadn't been any news on what Calanthe was up to, so this could be as bad as he feared.

Lance told the guards to make sure the gates leading in and out of the castle were secure, then he entered the throne room with only two escorts, not wanting to alert the emissary.

As expected, George Wallace didn't look shocked to see Lance instead of the Queen. His nonchalance made Lance's stomach shrivel. It seemed like Wallace already knew that the Queen wouldn't be here. But how could he know that when nothing from Isolde could cross the border to Theros?

"Sir Wallace," Lance said from the high throne. "What a pleasure to meet you again."

"It's my pleasure, Your Majesty," said Wallace with a hand on his chest. "I travelled all the way here to see Her Majesty. Is she not here?"

Even with that question, the look on his face revealed that he already knew the answer.

"No, my Queen is away for two weeks," Lance said, "but whatever you're here to discuss, you could discuss with me."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Wallace said with a scornful smirk.

Lance gathered his fingers into fists. If he could lock this man up for giving an attitude, he would do it without a second thought.

"Queen Calanthe of the high and low courts of Theros sent me here to discuss the matter of war and peace between the two kingdoms."

"War and peace?" Lance tried his best not to scoff as he rested his chin on his knuckles, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the armrest of the throne. "So your Queen admitted to wanting to start a war with Isolde."

"Well, Your Majesty, my Queen has always loved peace–"

"Surely," Lance muttered. If Wallace had heard him, it didn't show.

"But there has been some tension between the two kingdoms since King Egon sent an assassin to murder his own uncle, our beloved King Edgar."

"Has there been a trial?"

"Pardon, Your Majesty?"

"A trial for King Egon," Lance said breezily. "You called my betrothed's late brother a murderer in front of my face in her court, so I'm just wondering if I missed a trial or anything that proved that King Egon had been behind the murder."

Wallace worked his jaw for a second and soon managed to regain his composure. "No, Your Majesty."

"Then I advise you to watch your words, Sir Wallace."

"My apology, Your Majesty. May I say it again? There has been some tension between the North and the South since King Egon supposedly sent an assassin to murder King Edgar."

The corner's of Lance's lips arched in contempt as he chuckled. "Let's just get straight to the point, my lord. What does your Queen propose?"

"Our Queen has enough power to win this war if it's to happen, so she wants to give Queen Y/N a chance to keep Isolde. She wants to have power over twenty low courts in the North."

"You're joking."

"I'm afraid not, Your Majesty."

Lance narrowed his eyes as he sucked in a breath. "Bold of you to come in here and say these words to my face," he said slowly yet angrily.

Wallace, on the other hand, looked as calm as ever. "Those aren't my words, Your Majesty," he said. "I'm only the Queen's messenger."

Lance held the man's gaze for a long moment. He knew Wallace wasn't forced to be here. He was proud to be here and to witness Lance's reaction to this insulting offer to report back to his Queen.

"I'll have to wait for my Queen to return to discuss with her," Lance said coldly. Of course, he knew Y/N would never agree. He would never agree. Calanthe probably already knew it and had only sent Wallace here to taunt him. Whatever her motives were, it was better to have Wallace here and keep an eye on him than let him go back to that snake.

Wallace didn't look at all disappointed in Lance's response as he happily said, "I'd also love to stay to meet the Queen, Your Grace."

"Good," Lance breathed and waved for one of his guards. "I assume you must be tired after that long journey, Lord Wallace. You'll be escorted to your room and treated as our guest."

Wallace gave a bow before he followed the guards to the door where he stopped and turned around. "What a beautiful ring you have, Your Majesty."

Lance tried his best to look unbothered as he peered at the red stone on his finger. "It's one of a kind."

"It must be," Wallace said. "It's...glowing."

Lance mustered a single smile as he tightened his fists. With caution, he watched the guard escort the emissary out of the room.

Y/N knew Harry felt bad about what had happened because he would keep initiating conversations with her. She wanted to laugh and smile and act like nothing was wrong so he'd know she wasn't mad at him. Sadly, she hadn't felt good since she put the knife into that man's throat. It wasn't easy to kill someone and walk away like nothing had happened. She'd thrown up as soon as she'd woken up. Thankfully, Harry wasn't there to see it.

The old Harry wouldn't have judged her without knowing the reasons behind her actions. What was worse than the feeling of guilt she had to carry after killing that man, was the way Harry had looked at her before and after. He didn't trust her, so how could he expect her to trust him?

If she told him that her marriage with Lance was fake, and that she and Lance had been putting on a show and acting like they were in love to win the people's sympathy – the star-crossed lovers who could not live happily ever after because Calanthe was out for their blood – what could guarantee that he wouldn't run around spreading the words? He didn't have to tell every single soul he knew. Just one and the rest would hear it the next day. She could not risk that.

However, she should have told him about the deer, the moon lady, and the shadow man. She hadn't thought that she should, because it wouldn't have made any difference. She was the only one who could see the lady and the man, and only she could hear the deer talk. He wouldn't be able to help. Still, she'd need to tell him everything from now on. They were stuck in these woods together, and the only way for them to survive was to not keep secrets like that. She guessed she'd been at fault, too. They both had been wrong.

"Are you tired?" he asked.

She nodded even though she was holding onto the reins for her dear life. Harry stopped his horse, hopped onto the ground and helped her dismount Thunder. She felt like fainting, probably because she hadn't eaten since yesterday's afternoon. He gave her some water and bread and they sat by a tree, eating and watching the clouds roll by as if this was completely normal.

"We don't know where we're going," she said, hating the silence. "We could be walking in circles this whole time."

Harry blew out his cheeks as he rested both arms on his knees. "Well, if we can't find the lake, at least we could hope that we'd be able to find our way back."

Y/N said nothing. She could not tell him that the kind of magic that had erased his memory had taken away many years of his life. For all she knew, he could die tomorrow. If she told him that, would he be more determined to find the lake? Or would he want to give up for her own sake? Knowing Harry, she believed it would be the latter. He'd tell her that he didn't have anything to lose while she had too much to lose.

"You're not still mad at me, are you?" he asked, quietly.

When she looked up, he was giving her a speculative kind of look.

"No," she said flatly.

"Are you telling the truth?"

"See? You still don't trust me."

To her surprise, he burst out laughing. "See?" he mimicked her tone, shaking his head. "You're still mad at me."

She didn't reply, only sneered at him.

"Ask me anything," he said.

She blinked. "What?"

"Ask me anything and I'll answer honestly. To prove that I trust you."

"I know a lot about you, you know."

"I know." He grinned. "You could ask me something you don't know or something you already know to test me."

Y/N wetted her lips as she glanced skyward. She took a moment to sort out her thoughts. "Tell me...the most memorable day of your childhood."

Harry pursed his lips, thinking. "Well, I was seven or so. Kenny and I chased after this rabbit into the forest and found a rabbit family. We brought two little ones back home and were very excited to take care of them. The next day, they both ended up being cooked for dinner. Kenny and I cried so hard. I probably cried more than she did because I really loved my bunny."

He buried his face into his palms and burst out laughing as he finished his story. Meanwhile, Y/N sat there, gawking at him with a stone-cold expression. As soon as Harry saw it, his laughter died down at once.

"I'm sorry," he said, clearing his throat. "I should not have laughed. Poor bunnies."

Y/N shook her head as she mustered a smile. "No...it's just..."

"Just what?"

It's not the right answer, she wanted to say. She'd ask him this question before, and every single time, his answer would be the night he was working in the kitchen at her uncle's dinner party. Maybe that night didn't exist in his mind anymore. Because all the memories relating to her had been erased.

"Have I told you that story before?" he asked.

"Yeah," she lied.

He groaned in disappointment but was quick to smile again. "See? I trust you."

"I suppose," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "All right. Now you get to ask me a question."

"Really?"

"Yes. I just gave you permission."

Harry rubbed his palms together mischievously, making Y/N laugh.

"Oh, I was going to ask you something embarrassing," he said, "but I have a more important question that I've been wanting to ask."

"And that would be?"

Harry looked oddly reluctant, so Y/N was slightly worried about what he wanted to know. "I...um..." he began to stutter. "Well...the night in the cave...um...after I'd saved you from the river."

The fact that his face reddened as soon as he brought it up was too hilarious. Y/N was trying her best not to crack up and interrupt him.

"I tried to keep you conscious by asking you a question," he said. "I asked you to tell me your most precious memory. And you said...sunset. That was it."

"Oh."

"What does it mean?"

Y/N knew exactly what it meant. She could picture the scene in her head. Wind in his hair. Tears in her eyes. And she could still hear his voice telling her, "I fell in love with you at sunset."

"I don't know," she lied again, peeling her eyes off his in fear that he might notice her dishonesty. "I forgot. Maybe I just...didn't know what you were asking."

"Oh, that makes sense," he said, sounding unbothered.

And so she told herself that he believed her only so she could stop thinking about it. "We should get going. It gets dark quickly."

"We really should," Harry agreed, stood up and gave her a hand. Y/N got back to her feet then released him as fast as she could. And as she got onto Thunder's back, she could feel that his eyes were still watching her.

They kept on moving. It wasn't too long until the last daylight had faded and darkness took over the forest. Having spent over a week on this mountain, the dark shapes of trees had become familiar yet unusually comforting to Y/N. She still missed the palace, her soft warm bed, and sleeping in somebody's arms and not having to wake up crying over a nightmare.

But it didn't matter anymore, because she was now familiar with the cold and darkness; she was no longer afraid. Loneliness, however, was something she could never get used to. And the fact that Harry was with her this whole time, yet it felt like she was on her own, made her think that things could never go back to the way they'd been before she'd lost him. Sometimes, like earlier, he would look at her like the part that loved her was still fighting for its freedom. Sadly, most of the time, he felt like a stranger.

Maybe she should just give up, let him go like she'd said she would. One would always be happier without the burden of the past. It was easier for her to say otherwise because she had never been in his shoes. But it was human nature to choose the easy way out. So if the same thing had happened to her, she might have also chosen to forget.

It didn't have to hurt. They could still be happy. Just not together. She already had someone who loved her back home, someone she would marry, someone that would be by her side as she ruled a kingdom, someone whom her people would accept. And she knew she loved Lance; she just wasn't sure if it was the same way that she loved Harry, but feelings could grow, given time. As for Harry, he could travel the world, be whoever he wanted to be, or he could go back to his family, and he'd meet new people, fall in love and have children. She would get over him eventually. She'd lost so many people and moved on. She could do it again...

"Your Majesty."

Y/N blinked fast and caught Harry staring at her with an unreadable expression.

"You seemed distracted."

"Sorry." She cleared her throat, hurrying around the trees to catch up with him and the horses. The moon was bright tonight and the air was cold, so they'd decided to get off their horses and walk to keep themselves warm. "You were saying?"

Harry thinned his lips. "I said I remembered something."

"Yeah, what is it?"

"No...I mean...I had this vision just now...I remember something."

Y/N felt a hard quick pulse in her throat as shock froze her to the spot. She gaped at him as he looked skyward as if trying to keep that memory from slipping away. Her heart beat faster, pounding against her ribcage so hard it hurt.

"We were setting off on a journey," he started, his eyes pinched shut as he kneaded his temple. "You, me, the King and many others."

"And?" she prompted, impatiently.

"You...you told me to stay alive."

"It was the day of the attack," Y/N said quickly, her voice quavering. "What-what else do you remember?"

He swallowed, the look in his eyes softened as they met hers. "I-I wanted to hug you, but I think I wasn't allowed to. That...that was also the last thing on my mind before I lost consciousness...I wished I'd held you one last time."

Y/N could not utter a single word. She threw both arms around his neck and together they ended up in a heap on the snow-covered ground. She was laughing uncontrollably and he was, too, even though she could tell how confused he was.

"You remember..." she whispered, arms tightened around his neck.

Carefully, he placed his hands on her back and pressed her closer against him. "Well, not a lot, but–" she sensed a smile in his voice, "you do give great hugs."

She pulled back and cupped his face. "This is good. This is very good. Believe me. You will remember everything."

Was it the cold or had his cheeks turned a bit red? Well, it didn't matter. She was already too happy. The first memory of her that had returned had been the last one he'd had of her. Maybe he'd start remembering backwards. If so, it wouldn't be too long until he remembered how much he'd loved her.

It took Y/N a moment to realize that she was still on top of him, so she hurriedly apologized and pushed herself up off the ground.

He chuckled as she adjusted her clothes and asked him if he was all right.

"Your hugs are as violent as I expected," he teased, head tilted to the side. "But it's all right. I liked that." There was a quiet moment before he went on, "I think some of the things in my dreams were real memories, too."

"Yeah?" She hated how elated she sounded even though he didn't seem to notice as he gave a nod.

"I just can't tell them apart. I think I need more time."

Y/N swallowed, keeping her voice calm and steady. "I understand."

She hated it, though. Time. But she didn't mind waiting as long as Harry wasn't giving up.

"Please be patient with me."

At first, Y/N thought that those words were her own. When she realized they were his, she looked at him with her eyes wide and mouth open, wondering if he'd hit his head when she'd knocked him to the ground.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He suddenly seemed reluctant and shy. "I thought about what you said, and...also...that memory of you made me think...you meant a lot to me in the past." He looked up and their eyes met. "So I want to remember."

She pressed her lips together, trying to compose herself before saying, "Good," with a single nod. Her heart blossomed as she watched dimples appear on his pink cheeks. There was a look of wonder in his eyes as he cocked his head to the side and said, "There's something in your hair."

She froze as he outstretched his arm, and his fingers brushed gently over a strand of her hair. A tiny bit of light dashed up over her head, startling them both.

"A firefly!" Y/N exclaimed.

There wasn't just one.

All around them, fireflies, thousands of them, appeared from the trees and the grass. It felt like they were walking through stars.

"I've never seen so many fireflies before," Y/N said.

"Maybe they're not really fireflies. Maybe they're the spirits of the forest trying to tell us something."

"I hope they won't kill us."

"What are you talking about?" Harry scoffed, waving away a swarm of light by his head. "They're harmless."

Y/N let out a nervous laugh as the fireflies danced around her feet. "This reminds me of the ballroom on my tenth birthday," she said. "They put up decorations that looked like a thousand fireflies!" Then she threw her arms over her head, got on her tiptoes and did a twirl. Harry chuckled as she offered him a hand. "Would you like to dance?"

He shook his head fast, hands clasped together behind him. "Oh no, I don't dance."

"Yes, you do," she said, giggling. "You're just not good at it."

"I'd rather not embarrass myself in front of you, Your Majesty," he made a face and glanced around, "or our new friends."

Y/N scoffed as she rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, come on. Don't kill the joy. I'll guide you." Without waiting for him to say yes, she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him in. He let out a surprised gasp. The startled look on his face was soon replaced by a nervous grin. "Put this hand on my waist. Now hold my other hand. That's right. Don't think. Just follow my lead."

And so they started to dance without music in a sea of fireflies. Harry was careless and kept stepping on her foot and apologising for it only to do it again. It took him a moment to finally relax and realize that she wasn't going to murder him for not being able to dance. Then it didn't matter who was taking the lead anymore; they were just dancing like they were the only two living creatures in these woods, like time had stood still, and this moment was all that they had.

If they died in the morning and this was the last memory they shared, Y/N would be happy to take it with her to the grave.

"There you are. What took you so long?"

"I had to wait for the Lady-in-waiting to sleep."

The tiny figure pulled the hood over his head, revealing his round face under the dim firelight from the lantern Mary was holding. They were in the courtyard. Mary had been in the castle long enough to know that the guard, who was supposed to be watching this area, would always give himself a long break at this hour.

"She killed one of our men," George Wallace said, glancing nervously around to make sure no one was here but the two of them.

"What?"

"That bitch," he hissed. "Soon Queen Calanthe will rule over one hundred kingdoms and I cannot wait to see what she'd do to the brat."

Mary wanted to say that Calanthe was around the same age as Queen Y/N, but she wasn't going to have a debate with Wallace right here right now.

"The Queen wants me to check on you."

"I'm fine," she said, putting an arm around herself guardedly. "They treat me well." Too well. Sometimes she allowed herself to forget that she was here as a spy, not a guest.

"The Queen doesn't care how they treat you, idiot," Wallace said coldly. "She wants to make sure that you didn't lie to her about the lake. It seemed like Y/N didn't know where she was going."

"The lake does exist," Mary said. "Believe me. Y/N is the only way for us to find it. Blood calls to blood."

She wasn't sure if her words had pacified Wallace. It was hard to tell as he always seemed harmless yet he was one of the most calculated men in the Theros court.

"I must go now," he said, securing his robe. But instead of leaving right away, he eyed her up and down and lowered his voice. "They have been treating you well, haven't they?"

"Yes."

"Mmmm." He lifted his non-existent chin. "If you betray the Queen, the Monks will know about it." Mary swallowed at the thoughts. "They'll make sure to put up your ugly head at the gate after we've won the war."

Just like that, he turned and walked away. Mary clenched her teeth and her fists as she waited until his tiny figure was out of sight to return to her room. She had wanted nothing more than to break Wallace's neck, but it didn't mean what he'd said wasn't true.

No matter how well these people had been treating her, it was either her or them. And she didn't survive this long to continue putting other people's lives above her own.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles series #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #tctm series

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heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Chapter 5: The North Mountain

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which Harry and Y/N set off on a new journey and get stuck in another snowstorm.

Word count: 4.6k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

THEY’RE BACKKKKKKK! There’s another cave scene in this chapter 👀

“Are you sure, Your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Y/N told Mary for the third and final time, hoping that she’d sounded determined even though her voice was wavering. She could feel Lance’s eyes burning holes on the side of her face. He didn’t want her to go through with this.

The throne room was utterly quiet. There were just the three of them and two guards standing by the door. Y/N hated how loud her heart was beating, as if even it could tell this was a bad idea.

“The journey won’t be easy,” Mary said, lacing her hands together in front of her crotch. “Many have tried to find the lake and those who returned had not even made it halfway to the top of the mountain.”

“I know,” Y/N said coolly.

Mary quickly looked from her to Lance as if expecting him to interrupt and convince Y/N that Harry wasn’t worth all this danger. But Lance kept a straight face, as usual, masking what he truly felt inside.

Mary drew in a breath. Then, she took the silver ring with a black gemstone off her finger and wiped it clean with the sleeve of her dress. “When my sisters and I were born,” she said, “each of us was given a ring like this. It was enchanted with our mother’s blood, so as long as the stone was red, it meant all three of us were alive in this world. That was how I knew my sisters were gone. After I’d escaped from Egon’s men, the stone faded to brown and eventually to black.” She turned to Lance. “This ring will let you know if the Queen’s in danger.” And back to Y/N. “All it takes is a drop of your blood, Your Majesty.”

Y/N met Lance’s uneasy gaze. He sighed and drew out the dagger attached to his belt and handed it to her. She held it firmly, biting her lip and pressing the tip of the blade into her finger until blood oozed out of the cut. Mary took hold of Y/N’s wrist and placed her finger above the ring. The red drop fell onto the stone and it glowed like a tiny flame before subsiding to a dimmer red.

“Blood calls to blood,” Mary said, giving the red-stone ring to Lance. He put it on as Y/N put the finger into her mouth, tasting the iron sting of her own blood. “If the colour darkens, it means she’s in danger. If it turns black, she’s dead.”

The way Mary said it, so assertively and pitifully, sent a chill down Y/N’s spine. But for Harry and her kingdom, she must not be afraid.

Harry hadn’t expected to see the Queen in the stable. Who would expect to see a Queen out here in the middle of the night?

“What are you doing here?” she asked, looking equally surprised to see him.

He flashed a beam and continued stroking the black horse. “I ran into Jo and she told me to go feed the horses.”

“Feeding the horses isn’t your job,” Y/N said, arching an eyebrow.

Harry’s eyes widened. “It’s not?”

Y/N was speechless for a moment before she sighed. “Guide to surviving in my court: do not take orders from a maid.”

Heat pooled at Harry’s cheeks yet he managed to conceal his embarrassment with a grin. “Sorry. Your maid is pretty scary for a maid.”

Y/N shook her head as she broke into a smile. And Harry felt that weird sensation in his chest again. She’d been cold and distant since the last time they’d spoken two weeks ago. He hoped she’d forgiven him for what he’d done. Even though he didn’t know her, he felt a strong connection between them. He hadn’t had any nightmare lately about her jumping off a cliff or bleeding out to death on the floor, but those scenes had been stuck on his mind ever since the last time. He wished he knew what they meant or if they meant anything at all. That was one of the reasons he’d agreed to join her on this impossible quest – to make sure his nightmares wouldn’t come true.

“What are you doing here?” he asked and quickly added, “Your Majesty.”

Y/N’s mouth twitched subtly as she came closer. The black horse pawed the ground and snorted as if it were happy to see her.

“I’m here to say goodnight to Thunder,” she said, stroking the animal’s head.

“Thunder,” Harry echoed.

“I know what you’re thinking. Northerners have weird names for their horses,” she said. That was exactly what he was thinking. “You two have met before.”

“Thunder and I?” Harry asked, pointing to his chest.

Y/N nodded. “He was my ride on the journey last year. Would you like to see your horse?”

He said yes. And so she led him further into the stable to a beautiful brown horse who neighed and nuzzled Harry’s chest as soon as it saw him. Harry chuckled and stroked the horse’s back.

“Her name’s Lightning,” Y/N said and laughed when Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I’m serious.”

Harry didn’t remember having ridden Lightning before, but he felt like he knew her in the same way he felt like he knew Y/N. The memories might not be there, but the feelings were.

“Will it be just the four of us again tomorrow?” he asked.

“No, some of my men will be joining us. They’ll carry food and water.”

“What about the King?”

Y/N paused for a bit longer. “Lance must stay here. Someone has to run the court while I’m away.”

“And Attwell?”

“He’ll travel back and forth if necessary.”

Harry had heard from the maids that the people in Attwell loved Lance and were excited about the wedding. Y/N would probably receive the same amount of adoration in Isolde if she were a man. There hadn’t been any protests in the past weeks. Harry assumed Calanthe must be planning something else, so Lance had to stay here to pacify the court during the Queen’s absence. He wanted to ask Y/N about it, but he knew she wouldn’t discuss such matters with a peasant.

“Why doesn’t His Majesty go instead?”

Y/N’s expression remained the same as if she’d been expecting the question. “This is my kingdom,” she said, “so it's my responsibility, not his.”

“But he’s going to be your husband,” Harry ventured.

“So?” She lifted her chin proudly. “You think it’s because I’m a woman I cannot finish a job?”

“No, Your Majesty.” Harry could not help but smile. “I think you’re perfectly capable of getting the job done. It’s just...I wouldn’t let my woman risk her life out there while I’m safe here in the castle.”

“Lance insisted on going for me, but I didn’t let him,” Y/N said. “Just like you, I wouldn’t let my betrothed risk his life out there while I’m safe here in the castle.”

“Ahhh, so that’s what betrothed means,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. When Y/N didn’t reply and turned her attention to Lightning, he felt the need to keep this conversation going. “So...why are we searching for the lake? You asked me to come with you but you never told me why.”

Y/N straightened her back and folded her arms over her chest. There was something so serene about her, and Harry would sometimes catch himself staring unblinkingly at her face. He didn’t know if he was allowed to gawk at a sovereign, but Y/N didn’t seem to mind.

“One drop of water from that lake,” she began, “could cure the deadliest disease, heal broken bones, make a mute person talk and a deaf person hear. So if the lake exists and we have access to its powers, we’ll have a great chance of winning against the enemy.”

Harry pressed his lips together and shifted his gaze to his feet. Y/N let out a chuckle. “Don’t tell me you’re changing your mind now.”

“I still want to go,” he said. “It just doesn’t make sense to me why you chose me to go with you. I’m flattered, Your Majesty. But I’m also confused.”

“Because we’re partners in crime,” she said. “Even though you don’t remember anything about our journey, I believe we’ll make a good team as we did, you and I.”

Harry swallowed as he nodded slowly. Being trusted by the Queen with this important quest made Harry anxious and elated at the same time. “I hope this trip will bring back my memories,” he said, then realized he was unconsciously twisting the gold ring on his finger. “Do you know how I got this ring?” He raised his hand. “I asked Kenny and she didn’t know, so I assumed I might have stolen it. I’m not feeling guilty, it’s just weird to wear a piece of jewellery that you stole without knowing how you stole it.”

To his surprise and delight, Y/N broke into laughter. “I gave it to you.”

He blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. It was a reward for saving my life at the Wind Valley.”

“Wow.” He admired the ring. Now that he knew how he’d got it, he started looking at it differently. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said.

He dropped his arm back to his side and let out a sharp breath. “I can’t believe we’ve crossed the Wind Valley and done all those crazy things and I don’t remember anything.”

“I suppose we’ve made a lot of impossible things possible,” she said with a faltering smile. “But that was nothing compared to this. I need to know you’re ready.”

“I am.” He gave a firm nod. “I’ll try my best. That’s the least I could do for you before I leave the court.”

“Right,” Y/N said, almost to herself than to him.

He walked her out of the stable. It was snowing. She told him she could get back to her chamber on her own and wished him goodnight. Harry clasped his hands together behind his back as Y/N turned and started walking away.

He suddenly felt the need to shout after her. “You don’t have to worry! I’ll protect you and get you home safely to the King.”

Slowly, Y/N looked back over her shoulder. Their eyes locked, and a flicker of memory flashed across Harry's mind. It’d been snowing like this. They’d been at this same spot right outside the stable. Y/N was sitting on Thunder’s back, white snow falling all around them, decorating her hair with silvery flakes.

Reality rushed back into his vision when she spoke, “I can look after myself. You keep yourself safe.”

He opened his mouth yet could not utter a word.

Her red lips curled gently. And then she was gone.

“What is it?”

Y/N’s voice brought Lance back to reality. He cast her a single glance before scanning his eyes around. They were standing outside the portcullis. The sky was just growing light. Men were already gathered, faces red in the morning chill as they saddled the horses that snorted clouds of steam.

“Nothing,” Lance lied, not looking at Y/N. He hoped she couldn’t see through his feigned nonchalance, although it hadn’t been effective lately. Y/N had acclimated to his attitude. Sometimes he thought she had to be the only person left in this world who really knew him. It was sad, as the more attached he grew to her, the more it’d hurt when she got back to Harry.

He unconsciously twisted the red-stone ring around his finger while keeping an eye on the soldiers and servants, acting occupied.

“I’ll be back in two weeks,” she said despite his silence. “Don’t miss me too much.”

He turned back to her. She was beaming. The dawn had reddened her nose and cheeks, and as he stared, he completely forgot what to say.

“I won’t,” he mumbled, averting his eyes before she could sense his anxiety.

She placed her hand on his arm and he tried his best not to react to her light touch. He didn’t like the person he’d become when he was around her. Always so sensitive and predictable.

“I trust you not to plot on overthrowing me while I’m away,” she joked.

He let out a laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know, my lady, your throne seems much more comfortable than mine.”

Y/N’s eyes wrinkled at the corners as she tilted her head. “When I get back, I’ll have a special cushion made for your throne.”

“I’ll hold onto that promise,” he said, flashing her his signature grin.

They were interrupted by Harry shouting at a servant for threatening Lightning with a whip. He shoved the man out of the way, obviously angry as he took the mare with him and whispered something to comfort her.

“He seems more himself lately,” Lance remarked.

Y/N only shrugged. It made him wonder what she felt inside.

She hadn’t spoken of Harry since she’d found him with the maid. Everyone in court was convinced that she was looking for the lake to use it as a weapon against Calanthe, and not to save Harry’s life. Lance didn’t want to get his hopes up. The things she did and said always contradicted the look she’d give Harry when he wasn’t looking – like she’d die for him. But he’d already died for her and was probably not coming back.

Lance told himself to never settle to be the second choice or even a choice; he’d been that his entire life being born a bastard. Yet, he would find himself looking at her that same way.

“We’re ready to go, Your Majesty,” said one of the men.

Y/N nodded once before turning to Lance. She held his gaze for a moment, probably rearranging the words in her head to make a proper sentence. She’d once told him that she was bad at goodbyes. He hadn’t thought one day he’d get to see it.

He mustered a smile and pulled the hood of her fur coat over her head, leaving only her face exposed. He cupped it with his gloved hands and she placed her hands over his. If it hadn’t been for the promise he’d made after the first and last time they’d been intimate, he would kiss her right now.

“Try not to die,” he said.

Y/N’s lips arched as she held his wrists. “Even if I die, I’ll come back as a ghost and haunt you and your new bride.”

He chuckled.

To his surprise, she pushed his hands down to close the distance between them and pressed her cool lips to his cheek. He instinctively tugged her in, hugging her like he’d always wanted as she wrapped her arms around his neck. The hug didn’t last for long. And when she pulled away, she turned at once and trudged toward Thunder.

Lance stood with his hands behind his back, watching her mount her horse and shout orders at the men. Harry was on the horse beside the Queen. For the first time since his return, he was looking at her the same way the old Harry would.

Jo had been watching Lance pace these halls for the entire day after Y/N had left. He looked restless and would keep checking the ring on his finger. It had been funny at first, but now it only concerned Jo.

Of course, Jo was worried about Y/N, too. But from everything that'd happened, she’d learned that every time people doubted Y/N, she’d proven them wrong. And so Jo believed in her. Besides, Y/N had been alone the last time. This time she had a group of soldiers to protect her. The biggest concern should be the existence of the lake. But it was not Jo’s responsibility to think about it. Worrying would do them no good. Life had to move on here in court with or without the Queen.

“Are you kidding me?” Jo asked as she picked up her skirt and chased the King down the long corridor. Lance’s legs were longer so he strode ahead effortlessly while she was out of breath trying to catch up with him. “I’m not sharing a room with the witch!”

“She’s not a witch anymore,” he said easily. “Besides, now that the Queen is gone, it’s time for you to make new friends.”

“Said the loneliest man in the world!” she jeered.

Lance stopped walking and turned back to her, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you always so mean?"

She folded her arms, chin lifted. “I’m not sharing a room with the witch.”

“Too bad. I’m the one giving orders.” He spun on his heels and she immediately circled around him to stand in his path.

“Why should she get to live here anyway?” she said in annoyance. “She helped Calanthe kidnap Harry, tortured him and erased his memory. She should have been hung by now.”

Lance regarded an angry Jo as he tightened his jaw and sucked in a breath. “Y/N specifically requested that Mary stayed with you.”

“What? Why?”

The King lifted a shoulder. “Mary’s sister was the one who brought you back to life, wasn’t she? Don’t you think you should at least be nice to her?”

“Yes, her sister, not her!”

“The poor girl has lost everything and everyone, Jo. Have sympathy,” Lance said. “And I don’t hit women, but if she pulls some tricks, you can easily take her down.”

Jo put both hands on her hips as her mouth fell open. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lance snorted, shrugged again and sidestepped her. He was walking away when his footsteps slowed and he stopped, standing rigid, staring at his hand. For a second Jo thought he was going to change his mind, but then he turned around and his face was pallid. “The ring,” he said.

Jo’s gaze dropped to his finger. The stone on his ring had turned to a darker red. A prickling sensation shot up Jo’s spine as she locked eyes with the King, both of them horrified.

Their Queen was in danger.

A bad storm hit as soon as Y/N and her men entered the forest at the foot of the North Mountain. The powerful wind roped itself around them, wanting to either choke them or yank them off their saddles. The horses pushed through the deep snow as the trees swayed back and forth, bending in every direction while the howling of the wind grew louder and more frightening.

Y/N could not see. She shielded the flying snow from her eyes with one arm while looking around for shelter. Unfortunately, her vision was blurred by the raging storm, and she was unable to see further than a few feet ahead. The wind became more bitter and vicious. Horses neighed and men shouted. Y/N told everyone to stay calm, not sure if anyone could hear her. The only thing that kept her sane was Harry being by her side from the moment they’d set off. She thought about what he’d said outside the stable last night. Maybe he really wanted to protect her.

A human scream tore through the crying of the wind, making Y/N snap her head up and strain her ears to listen. It was a woman shouting for help. It grew louder and clearer and more desperate by seconds. Somebody else was here in the forest in this storm. But why?

“We must move, Your Majesty!” Harry yelled at her.

“Did you hear that?” Y/N shouted back.

“What?”

“A woman! There! She’s calling out for help!”

“I hear nothing.”

“How can you not hear that? There it is again!” cried Y/N, but Harry only looked at her as if she were mad. She shook her head quickly. “That woman needs our help. We must save her.”

“Are you insane?” he growled. “We can’t even save ourselves!”

The woman screamed again. She sounded as if she were in pain. Y/N thought about the dying pregnant woman she’d pulled out of the burning house and her conscience didn’t let her move on. “Wait here! I’ll be back!”

“Y/N!” Harry snapped. But she’d already pulled the reins and kicked her horse into a gallop.

She hurried through the snow, chasing the screams until she saw a figure crawling on its hands and knees across the white snow. Y/N flew off her horse and rushed toward the woman. She could barely make out the woman’s face through the wind but Y/N knew she was alive.

Y/N swore she could hear the fizz and crack of her own heart breaking. Her hood was thrown back by the wind. The cold stabbed its talons into her skin like a thousand little cuts with a serrated blade. She reached for the woman’s arms to help her up, but as soon as she closed her fingers around what should be human’s flesh, she was grasping at nothing.

The woman had vanished.

In one violent crack, the ice broke beneath Y/N and shattered into a hundred tiny fragments, sending her plummeting into the black water.

A million knives stabbed her skin, slicing her open. Her lungs contracted as her numb hands clawed for something to hold onto. She wanted to yell. Her ribs crushed her heart, and her whole body started caving in.

As her eyes shivered open, Harry’s face was the last thing that she saw through the surface.

Harry knew something was wrong when he saw Y/N get off Thunder’s back and head straight toward the frozen river.

He’d forgotten about everyone else. His thoughts were running wild. He threw himself off Lightning’s back and hurried after her. She was standing out on the ice when he’d caught up. He called out to her, but she didn’t look back. Her hood was off and her head was bare, the wind churning up around her, making her look as if she were made of magic.

And then the ice gave way beneath her. A shudder and a crack and she disappeared into the river.

Harry ran. His heart flattened against his ribs. His feet were slipping on the ice. He dropped to his knees at the edge of a vast hole, plunged his arms into the black water and seized her hand floating just above her head. He pulled her up, dragging her onto the ice and into his arms.

He didn’t remember how they’d got back to their horses. Fear and panic had blurred his mind. They were lost. The others had either moved on without them or stuck somewhere in the storm. There was no time to look for them because he must find a place to hide and light a fire.

Y/N was shivering in his arms. Small ice crystals had formed in her hair and on her lashes and brows. He pushed her onto Lightning’s back and mounted the horse, sitting behind her, her head resting against his chest.

Suddenly, Thunder reared upon his hind feet. Harry feared that the animal thought he’d hurt Y/N. But then Thunder snorted and sprinted ahead. Harry knew the horse wanted him to follow so he kicked Lightning and chased after Thunder. He held the rein with his right hand, holding Y/N in his fur coat with his left arm. The cold was so unbearable that every breath he took caused him pain.

They rode and rode. The wind slapping against their bodies until Thunder stopped at the entrance of a cave hidden behind snow-covered branches. The black horse entered first and Harry and Lightning followed. The further they walked, the warmer it became, but it was not enough to melt the ice from their clothes.

Harry dismounted his horse and placed Y/N onto the ground, holding her closer to him to share his body heat. It was not working. Her clothes were all soaked. The only thing that let him know she was alive was her hot breath against his cheek.

“Stay with me,” he hissed, stroking her back.

His heart stammered as her eyelids fluttered. “I’m tired,” she croaked. “I’m going to sleep.”

“No.” He squeezed her shoulder and gave her a firm shake. “You’re not going to sleep. Promise me, Y/N.”

“I promise.”

Carefully, he laid her down and gathered as many dry sticks as he could find. The horses helped. It was obvious that they’d been trained for rescue missions.

Harry managed to light a fire which he hoped wouldn’t go out too soon.

Fuck, he hoped Y/N wouldn’t go out with it.

He quickly got back to her and dragged her back into his arms. “Here, stay close to the fire.”

The ice in her hair began to melt but her face grew bluer every passing moment. Now he was really afraid. He didn’t want her to die like this, in this cave.

“You saved me,” she spoke, her voice brittle. “Why?”

He schooled his face as their eyes met. “What do you mean?”

“I thought...I thought you hated me,” she said.

He swept her damp hair out of her face and frowned. “I don’t hate you, Peach.”

He hadn’t meant to call her that. It’d slipped out. He didn’t think she’d heard it, because she didn’t react. She was going to pass out.

He shook her again, forcing her to keep eye contact. “Tell me something,” he said. She needed to keep her brain working. “Tell me your most precious memory.”

Y/N’s face contorted as she shook her head. “I-I don’t know.”

“Think.”

She swallowed dryly, her purple lips quivering before she could manage, “Sunset.”

“What else?”

“Sunset...sunset…”

“No, Y/N, look at me!”

But she couldn’t.

Her eyelids slipped shut and her head fell to the side.

“No, no, no,” he chanted, shaking her as hard as he could but she did not respond. She was still breathing but it was becoming weak.

Harry had no other choice. Either this or she'd die.

“Forgive me, please,” he murmured and hurriedly removed her coat and the rest of her sodden clothes before he sloughed off his and spread their clothes beside the fire. His face burned with shame as he took her into his arms and wrapped his fur coat around their naked bodies.

He’d been close to many women, but none of them had been dying, so he told himself there was nothing to be embarrassed about. He was only saving her life.

Her face was buried into his chest. She smelled like winter. He continued stroking her wet hair until her breath grew steadier and her skin warmed up. The relief and ease that coursed through him felt too good to resist. He allowed exhaustion to engulf him and finally shut his eyes.

Outside, the storm was still raging, but at least for now, they were safe. He was just about to drift off when he felt her arm hook over him as she snuggled closer. If she were awake, she’d be able to hear how violent his heart was thumping against his chest. He thought about what she’d said, sunset, and tried to figure out what it meant, until finally, sleep took over him.

In the North castle, Lance sat by the fire, its glow illuminating his face. He heaved a sigh of relief and buried his head into his hands.

The ring on his finger had turned from black to red.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #tctm series #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfics #harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

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heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Chapter 14: A Life For A Life

(from ‘The Conman and the Maid’ Series)

…in which Y/N takes a life and saves a life.

Word count: 7.7k

AU: princess!y/n, conman!harry, prisoner!harry.

Series description: Y/N is a princess and Harry is a prisoner in her castle. With his help, she escapes from her arranged marriage in search of a happy ending, if there is one.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

Warning: character’s death, gore, violence

Two Isolde guards grabbed Egon, twisted his arms behind his back and forced him down onto his knees. Another one stabbed Jo’s murderer from behind. His body stumbled forward before collapsing right beside Jo’s. Dead. More screams erupted from the crowd of courtiers, but all Y/N could hear was the thundering of her own heart.

These weren’t Isolde guards; they were Attwell’s men in disguise. And this was all a part of the Bastard Prince’s plan to assassinate his brother and soon, Egon. If that was the case, then there was no chance for Y/N to walk out of here alive.

“The throne room has been secured by Attwell guards,” Lance announced, taking in every frightened face before his grey eyes stopped at Y/N once again. “We are here for the tyrant and the rescue of Princess Y/N. I’m going to free you from tyranny, not imprison you. Those who are innocent shall not be harmed. Unless you try to defy us.”

Catching her breath, Y/N narrowed her eyes at him to silently question, ‘Why?’

Lance seemed to understand and yet did not answer. “Kill him.”

“Stop!” Y/N shouted. All eyes fell on her. Lance was frozen in his spot though there was no sign of astonishment on his face. She couldn’t figure out why such a kind-looking prince could murder his brother cold-bloodedly. But she could not criticize him for something she also would have done.

With all her courage, she marched toward Lance. His guards reached for their weapons, but he raised a hand for them to stay back and let her approach. She stood an arm’s length away from the prince, her voice lowered, “You are not going to kill my brother in our home.”

“I just saved your life, Princess,” Lance said coolly.

Y/N let out a mirthless laugh. “Don’t expect me to thank you. You are no better than him if you saved my life only to take my father’s throne.”

Lance considered her, his voice steady, “I’m here to kill the tyrant. I do not wish to hurt you.”

“Really?” Y/N challenged. “Not even when I’m standing between you and my crown?”

The question had captured Lance’s full attention. His eyes squinted as though to ask her to explain. She lifted her chin and bent down to take the letter out of her boot. “This is my father’s letter,” she said, “in which he stated that I shall be the new ruler of Isolde. So if you want the crown, you’ll have to kill me.”

Lance didn’t speak. Y/N then beckoned to the Lord Chancellor who was trembling in the corner. “Lord Chancellor Callahan, would you please read this letter and confirm that it is from my father?”

“Y-Yes, Your Highness,” the old man said as he accepted the folded piece of paper with both hands.

The atmosphere in the throne room became heavy as the Lord Chancellor scrutinized King Willem’s letter. The stench of fresh blood hung in the air, sickening Y/N. She gripped her sword-hilt and refused to acknowledge Jo’s dead body lying on the floor. She would avenge her loyal friend. Even if it cost Y/N her life.

“This is,” proclaimed the Lord Chancellor, “indeed King Willem’s handwriting and signature.” The whisperings among the crowd grew louder. The old man stroked his beard as he looked over at Y/N. “That would make you the rightful heir to the throne, Princess Y/N.”

When her eyes met Lance’s once again, he composed and inclined his head. “Very well,” he said. “Then I shall leave the fate of the tyrant in your hand, future Queen of Isolde. I would not break my promise of becoming your ally.”

The indifference in his expression left her bewildered. Was he simply here to murder Egon and free the people of Isolde from her brother’s tyranny? What was he? A living saint? It was unthinkable that he’d gone through all this trouble to plan this assassination just to hand the crown back to her.

What were his real motives?

She was about to ask when suddenly Egon, who had been silent this whole time, raised his voice.

“Cheers to you, little sister.” He was smiling despite being held down by two Atwell’s guards. “Are you going to kill me now? Put me out of my misery?” His tone was full of mockery. “Remember. You will never escape the fate of our family. How do you think the people would react to their new Queen,” his gaze jumped to Lance, “who’s been assisted by the enemy to commit treason,” then back to Y/N, “murdered her own brother and stolen the crown.”

His words chilled her to the bone. She wished he would stop talking, but everything he said was based on facts.

“People won’t care if you are the heir Father chose, Y/N. You are weak. You are not meant to rule. It won’t be long until another one cast you down and our dynasty crumbles. If you believe in a prophecy told by a madwoman, then you are more a fool than a queen.”

“You believe in the prophecy,” she hissed, bending down to come face to face with her kneeling brother. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have kept Maggie alive after murdering her sisters. Admit it, Egon. You are afraid of me.”

Egon did not waver. “Is that what you tell yourself at night?”

Y/N balled her free hand into a fist as she straightened. She felt the whole room watching as she motioned for a guard to hand her his sword. Lance was the first to realize what she intended to do.

“Princess, don’t do it,” he implored. “Just have him executed and take the crown.”

She ignored him. He was, after all, a foreigner. She knew her people. They would never bend the knees if they couldn’t see her as a ruler. Her father might have passed the crown onto her, but it was she who had to show the people she’d earned it rightfully.

She tossed the weapon on to the floor and it slid toward where her brother was being held. His head jerked up as he shot her a tentative look.

“We’ll have a duel,” she declared.

The crowd gasped.

“Princess–” the Lord Chancellor interjected, but she raised a hand to silence him, her eyes fixed on her brother, who couldn’t seem more satisfied. She’d had him on his knees, but now she’d given him the chance to kill her.

“Just like Uncle and Father,” she said.

“The winner takes Isolde,” Egon stated.

“Not only Isolde.” She shook her head. “But also the other’s life.”

“Princess, this is absurd!” Lance cried out and his men unintelligibly agreed.

Y/N cast him a pointed look. “I don’t know who you are and why you’re doing this, but I can condemn you for invading the nobility of the Isolde court. If you wish to preserve the alliance between your kingdom and mine, I suggest you do not speak up. This is our land. We go by our rules.”

Lance didn’t break their gaze, and Y/N found herself trying to convey through her eyes that she wanted him to trust her. He then released a heavy breath and ordered his men to release Egon.

“Pick up the sword,” Y/N commanded. Her brother growled as he got up to his feet, almost losing balance on his wounded leg.

“With all due respect, Princess,” spoke the Lord Chancellor. “King Egon is the best swordsman in the royal court. I cannot stand by and watch you risk your life now that you are the rightful ruler of Isolde. King Willem would not approve of this.”

“If you accept me as your new ruler,” Y/N said, “the first thing you should do is believe in me.”

Her command silenced the Lord Chancellor. He reluctantly bowed and stepped back.

Wiping the blade with his sleeve, Egon said, “It’s not fair that you’re requesting a duel with a wounded man, sister.”

“You’re wounded. I’m wearing a dress. We’re both at a disadvantage, aren’t we?” She cocked her head. “Now, should we take this outside?”

“It’s snowing,” Egon said.

“Good,” Y/N replied. “Just like old times.”

When Harry arrived at the home of the witch sisters, he was shocked to see that what had been a beautiful cottage was now ashes and burnt wood. He dismounted Lightning in the shade of a tree and asked Kenny, his companion, to stay right there. Stubborn and curious, Kenny got off the mare and followed him toward the ruins of the house.

“What do you think happened here?” she asked.

“Egon’s men,” Harry said with no further explanation.

“Do you think these sisters had something to do with the prophecy about Y/N?”

“Possibly,” he sighed. “Come on. We better get going. Hopefully, we’ll reach Stefan’s village before it gets dark.”

The two returned to their horse. Harry was helping Kenny vault Lightning’s back when he was greeted with a swift blow to the back of his legs. He cried out in pain as he came down on his hands and knees. Lightning neighed loudly to frighten Harry’s attacker, gaining just enough time for him to get back to his feet and draw his sword.

He froze when he recognized the person.

“Mary?”

Half of her face was severely burnt, but Harry would never forget the one who’d given him love potion so he would sleep with her.

“Harry, are you okay?” cried Kenny, snapping him back to reality.

“I’m okay,” he told her without breaking his gaze with Mary. The maiden was holding a wooden board above her head. She looked like she’d lost her mind. “Put that thing down, Mary,” he cautioned while extending a hand toward her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Mary recoiled like a scared animal. Something told him her sisters were both dead and somehow she’d survived. He wasn’t sure if she recognized him.

Suddenly, she asked, “Where is she?”

“Who?”

“The princess.” Mary’s eyes darted around, her breathing quickened. “Your lover. She did this. She did this to us!”

“Y/N...burnt down your house?” Harry arched both eyebrows in disbelief.

Mary shook her head. She was calmer than before, even though she was still scared. “Her brother did,” she said. “His men came. If it weren’t for her, my sisters would still be alive!”

Harry regarded Mary for a moment before he slowly lowered his sword. To his surprise, she did the same with the wooden board. She let it fall to the ground and jerked back when he tried to reach for her arm. He quickly held up both hands to let her know he meant no harm.

“I’m sorry about your sisters,” he said. “But Y/N didn’t want this to happen. She’s–”

“You’re defending her because you love her!” Mary shouted. “My sisters called her the saviour but what has she done for us? She’s not a saviour! People die left and right for her and she’s now safe in the North castle with her tyrant brother!”

“Mary–”

“I just...I just want to be normal! I didn’t get to choose! I wanted you for myself, but I had to give you to her. Now I’ve lost my sisters to her as well. I want her dea–”

An arrow whooshed right past them and stuck into the trunk of the tree next to Lightning. The animal reared up on her hind legs, tossing Kenny right off her back, and before Harry could react, Kenny screamed, “Harry, behind you!”

He jumped just in time to dodge the blade of a sword. The bushes rustled, and Mary disappeared into the wood, leaving them to deal with the attacker. A man dressed in a black cloak.

He advanced toward Harry and raised his blade above his head. Harry rolled to the side. The sword thrust into the dirt. He leapt back to his feet and swung his sword, but Black Cloak was fast enough to block the blade. The villain kept attacking and Harry kept deflecting the blows. Harry might be quicker, but his weapon was no match for his opponent’s. He recognized the symbol on the blade. It belonged to the Isolde court. This man served Egon. He must be here to make sure none of the sisters had survived.

Harry could not strike back with his stubby sword, not even once, so he tried to buy himself time, hoping he would exhaust his opponent before himself. Just as his hands were getting numb, he heard galloping and whipped his head to find Lightning charging forward. The mare kicked Black Cloak with full force, sending his massive body sliding across the dirt and slamming into a tree, his sword in the opposite direction.

Harry fetched the heavy weapon as fast as he could and pointed it at the defeated opponent. Groaning, Black Cloak pushed himself up to sit against the trunk of the tree. His hood fell off, revealing an ugly scarred face. It looked like he’d been attacked by a jungle cat.

Harry took a moment to recall what had happened to Y/N at the market. How she’d been beaten by a man in a black cloak. She’d scratched his face before he could squeeze the life out of her.

“You...” Harry hissed, the tip of his sword pointing at the man’s heart. “You tried to kill her.”

“Prince Egon’s command,” said Black Cloak, giving a half-smile. “I was just going to bring her back alive.”

“Wait, I know you!” Kenny limped toward them and stood behind Harry, peering around his arm. “I know him, Crow. I’ve seen him a few times when my mother used to work in Theros court. He used to be a courtier. He betrayed the Queen!”

Harry’s chest burnt with rage as realization hit him. “You killed the king, didn’t you? Everyone wanted to believe the North did it. They did not suspect the murderer to be an insider.”

Black Cloak didn’t even try to deny. “Calanthe is not my queen,” he spat out blood while smiling as if he was at the other end of the sword. “I’ve served the court of Theros my whole life and I was nothing but a poor soldier. Now I’m loyal to King Egon. He would make me his commander when the war is over. He should rule both the South and the North. Not some little girl.”

Harry gripped the hilt of his sword so tight he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore.

“Look at you, street rat,” Black Cloak continued with a sneer. “A whore spreads her legs and you stick out your tongue and become her dog. I wouldn’t aim too high if I were you.”

“Harry, leave him.” Kenny tugged at Harry’s arm when she recognized the darkness in his eyes. “Let’s go. Before it gets dark.”

He let her take his hand, but instead of following her steps, he thrust the sword into Black Cloak’s chest. Kenny cried out and begged him to stop when he twisted the blade and yanked it out. Red blood poured from the wound. The man died fast. His eyes were open, staring back at his murderer.

Harry dropped the sword with a clang and wrapped both arms around Kenny, holding her tight against his chest as she wept uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, closing his eyes and kissing her forehead.

She was still crying as she buried her face into his chest. “You had to,” she choked out the words. “He was a bad man...You did the right thing.”

Harry wanted to believe that, but he knew he hadn’t done it in the name of justice. He’d been triggered by the disgusting words Black Cloak had said about Y/N. After all, Harry was only human.

The snow was falling outside in the court of Isolde, each flake dancing in the fading light of day. When Y/N was little, she used to stand on this field outside the castle and picture herself in a wintry ballroom as colourless confetti fell weightlessly downward from heaven. Now, as the entire royal court had gathered here, it really did look like a ballroom. And she was about to dance to the death.

She’d ripped off the tail of her skirt, leaving her legs exposed from the knees down. Her breath was pale against the numbing air. The frost kissed her face as she blinked thoughtfully, enthralled by the soft, dusty illusions of light that sat heavily on her eyelashes. For a moment, the world faded away, and there was just her, the snow, the trees, and the sky.

Then, the clang of armour snapped her back to reality. A guard presented her with the maid named Aleina. The poor girl was shaking. Y/N wasn’t sure if she was scared or simply cold.

She stopped in front of Y/N and curtsied. “You asked for me, Your Majesty?”

Y/N met Egon’s eyes as he bandaged the wound on his calf with a torn piece of his sleeve. He smirked at her, and she looked away. She took Aleina’s hand, leaned in and whispered to the maid, “Clean the body of Lady Josephine. Make sure no one moves her.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I’ve ordered the guards to take the white-haired lady from the dungeon to see Jo.” Aleina nodded though she seemed utterly perplexed. “You will tell the witch that...she may have her pure soul to travel to another world...in exchange for Jo’s life.”

“My lady!” Aleina exclaimed and immediately lowered her voice to a whisper, “What are you talking about?! Jo...is dead!”

Y/N placed a finger on her own lips to silence the girl. “You are not allowed to question. Just do as I say.”

Aleina hesitantly nodded again, her gaze fell to her feet.

“And no one will be in the room with Jo and the witch,” Y/N went on. “No one will know what happens in that room. Do you understand?” Seeing how frightened and shocked the maid was, Y/N took Aleina’s warm hand with her cold fingers and squeezed it tight. “I might not come back, and you’re the only one I can trust. Can you take care of this for me, Aleina?”

Aleina nodded, seemingly more determined although her voice wavered as she spoke, “You’ll c-come back, Your Majesty...I-I believe in you.”

Y/N thanked the girl and promised that she would try her best. Watching Aleina disappear into the crowd, Y/N gripped her heart to stop it from beating so hard and fast. She had no idea if Maggie was capable of bringing Jo’s back, but she knew Maggie had a reason to tell her about the other word and how to get there. Y/N believed this was it. This was how she must save Jo.

She wasn’t a mother. Who knew if she would ever be if the circumstances had been different? But Jo had been with child. Jo had sacrificed the life of her baby and her own for Y/N to almost get killed if it hadn’t been for Lance’s interference. Jo would still be alive if Y/N hadn’t one-sidedly involved Jo into her stupid escape plan.

She would never be at peace bringing up a child with the memory of what had happened to Jo today. And she didn’t want to have her child grow up in court and live the same life she had lived, full of risks and uncertainty. She’d thought that, with her father’s permission, she could find Harry once she’d become Queen and bring him here so they could live happily ever after in richness. But Egon was right. Her father could forgive her for breaking traditions, but her people would not. She’d be a queen. She’d live and die for her kingdom, and that was her only purpose. If she was not allowed to end up with the man she loved, be his wife, have his children then she wanted none of it.

With that in mind, she must survive today.

When she was little, every time there had been a duel, she would be so certain that she’d lose because Egon was bigger, stronger, and faster. Now Egon was wounded and it had been years since the last time he’d picked up a sword to fight. He had never left the comfort of the castle grounds, while she had travelled all the way to the South and escaped Death countless times. Many people had tried to kill her and failed, so she would not die in a duel where there were rules and spectators who were also the judges.

She remembered the euphoria of watching duels between her father and uncle; it’d been nerve-racking watching from the front row, but it’d been nothing compared to how she was feeling now. She squeezed her free hand into a fist so no one could see her shaking.

The Chancellor went over the rules which she had learned by heart, then prayed for the Gods to bless them both. As his sad eyes lingered on Y/N before he walked back to the crowd, she realized she might be the only one here who believed she would win.

She hated how knowing that troubled her a little.

Still, she steadied her breathing, her numb fingers closed around the sword-hilt, her boots pressing firmly into the snow.

Egon stood a few feet away, holding his sword, mirroring her fighting stance. “It’s not too late to back out, little sister.”

“No,” said Y/N. “If you want my blood, take it.”

“Very well,” he replied, drew his sword and lunged. When he moved, the blade caught the light with a wavering spark. Y/N backed up, her eyes on the weapon. They had been here too many times before and she’d been defeated too many times before. Her brother attacked with confidence but also negligence. She was wiser now. For all the fall she’d taken, the way he moved was imprinted on her consciousness.

She ducked his strike and advanced, her sword almost cutting his arm but he moved fast enough to dodge it. The crowd fell silent, watching. His face hardened. He advanced, faster than before. His blade broke her guard and scoured her shoulder. Her sleeve tore, blood running down her arm. He struck mercilessly and she parried the blow and shoved him back. From the horrified look on his face, she knew it wasn’t her skills that had shocked him, it was also the fact that she was ruthless. She wasn’t afraid to hurt him. And this was not a threat.

All about her, the crowd stood mute. The hot smell of her own blood drove home to her. She thought about Jo’s body turning cold on the floor of the throne room, and fury filled her to the brim. She drove suddenly beneath his guard and dragged her knife across his ribs. Blood poured from the open wound. The crowd broke into gasps.

He howled and leapt back, face twisted with pain. Blood was dripping down her fingers, staining the pure white ground every time she moved. She didn’t know how bad her wound was, but the pain caused her teeth to rattle as she gripped the hilt of the sword, using all the strength she had left to strike continuously. Her brother could only dodge and parry. He was helpless and horrified.

He fell to the ground with a loud thump and cries burst among the crowd. Someone screamed. Someone wept. She saw her reflection in her brother’s eyes as he soundlessly begged for mercy. She forced her sword down, broke his guard; her blade cut through the blood-stained bandage around his leg. His painful wail rattling the trees.

The snow kept falling lazily all around them. Her vision went hazy for a second. From behind her, Lance shouted, “Kill him!”

Her blade was lifted, then frozen midair.

She could not.

She remembered the dream, how she’d murdered her brother, but she was the one bleeding out.

“Do it, whore! Kill me! Are you scared now, little girl?” Egon taunted, veins popping on his necks. Y/N didn’t answer, so he turned to the people. “This is the heir my father chose. A coward. Look at her. Would you want this, a frightened little girl, to become your ruler?”

There was only silence.

The Lord Chancellor was the first person to bend the knee.

Then the guards.

The maids.

Even those from Attwell.

Each and everyone got on their knee and bowed their head to the new queen of the North.

Y/N’s tear-filled eyes searched for Lance, who was one of the last to kneel. He held her gaze, and she wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but she saw a smile, as though to say, ‘Well done.’

Egon was bewildered. He started screaming at his men, calling them insulting names, ordering them to take her, but no one paid attention to him. Y/N thrust her sword into the snow and gazed down upon her brother, taking a deep breath.

“For the innocent lives you’ve taken,” she declared. “For the ones you’ve hurt. For the murder of Josephine. I banish you from Isolde.”

“You are not allowed, you stupid bitch!”

“If you manage to stay alive until dawn, you’ll be taken into the woods, and you shall never return again. If you disobey my order, you’ll be sentenced to death.”

Just as Y/N spun her heels, Egon shouted after her, “I killed two kings, Y/N. I will come back and kill you, too.”

The crowd cried out as Y/N stopped, and turned slowly. Her fingers hardened around the sword-hilt despite the blood pouring from her open wound.

Egon was bleeding to death. The pain had turned him hysterical as he laughed like a madman. “I killed our father, Y/N. I plotted our uncle’s murder, too. There is nothing I couldn’t do. You cast me out, I will return. I will live. Because I am the face of Go–”

Her blade slashed across his throat and blood splashed on her dress. She stood quietly above his dead body, watching the light in his eyes go out. Someone was calling her name. Blackness oozed in from the corners of her vision. She was on the edge of consciousness when two strong arms caught her before she fell.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Lance called her name, his face was blurred. In his cold grip, she remembered riding on Thunder’s back through a snowstorm. The crackling of the fire. The sound of the running river. A road in a forest full of stars. A pair of green eyes and a familiar voice whispering sweet words in her ears.

She could have sworn the prince cursed under his breath before she could feel his arm beneath her knees, beneath her shoulders as he lifted her from the ground.

Y/N woke up screaming.

In her dream, Egon had had his fingers around her throat. It was the pain of the wound that brought her back to reality. She blinked frantically, feeling a warm hand placed over her forehead, calming her nerves, before the room and the face above her came into view.

She was staring into Jo’s bright blue eyes.

Before Jo could speak, Y/N jolted upward and wrapped both arms around Jo’s neck, laughing and crying hysterically. Jo was crying, too. They held each other for the longest time until it was too painful for Y/N to remain sitting. Jo helped her lie back down and brushed her hair out of her forehead.

Jo looked so well. Her cheeks were pink, her hair shiny and more golden than Y/N remembered. She seemed more alive than she had always been.

“You’re so stupid, Y/N. So stupid,” she sniffled, stroking Y/N’s cheek.

Y/N’s gaze dropped to Jo’s flat stomach, eyes widened before glancing back to Jo’s face. “Did it...did it hurt?”

Jo pursed her lips. “I guessed it couldn’t have hurt more than being stabbed. Still, there are scars to make sure the emotional pain is permanent.”

Y/N frowned as she placed her hand on Jo’s belly, trying to feel a beat that was no longer there.

“A life for a life, the white-haired lady said,” Jo sighed. “It’s gone forever. I won’t be able to have one again.”

Y/N felt tears sting her eyes again. “I’m so sorry, Jo. This...this is all my fault.”

“No, Y/N! Stop that!” Jo leaned down and cupped her face. “You saved my life! I would have jumped in front of the blade for you, you know that!”

“The baby was innocent!”

“It’s better this way, Y/N. If the baby was born, it would forever be condemned for having a tyrant as a father. Children don’t deserve to pay the price for their parents’ wrongdoings.”

Y/N bit her lip. She nodded once before changing the subject. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Two days.”

“And the Prince–”

Jo didn’t even let her finish. “Aleina told me he was the one who carried you back from the field! He could be a wonderful suitor considering now that he’s the next in line for his father’s throne.”

Y/N laughed. She was glad that Jo had found her sense of humour, but she was not amused by the joke.If it had been a joke.

“He murdered his brother,” she said coolly.

Jo didn’t seem to agree. “His brother was no better than Egon. The Prince did you a favour.”

“But why?”

“You’re going to have to ask him. He’ll be in court to have an audience with you when you have recovered,” Jo said brightly. “I think he wishes to marry you to strengthen the alliance between Isolde and Atwell.”

Y/N didn’t reply, but she supposed Jo could see right through her. Jo sighed as she fidgeted with her skirt. “He’s a charming young lad,” her voice lowered, “but maybe your heart is in another place?”

Y/N shut her eyes and exhaled sharply. “I should have asked Maggie to take my heart, too. I would have given her for free.”

This made Jo giggle. “I adore your heart, Y/N. It saved the kingdom from a tyrant.” Then, she put her fingers under Y/N’s chin, making Y/N open her eyes again. “If you want to talk about him, I’m all ears.”

“I cannot ask that of you,” Y/N mumbled.

There was a flicker of sadness in Jo’s eyes, yet she managed to conceal it with a twitch of her lips. “I love you, Y/N,” she said. “I always have and I always will. I know you don’t love me the same way, but you do love me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have sacrificed so much for me. Maggie told me what it took to bring me back. I could never repay you. All I ask is for you to let me be your friend again. I’d be happy to serve you as your lady-in-waiting.”

Y/N pressed her lips into a smile. “I didn’t bring you back to cast you out, Jo. If the two of us are going to be husbandless and childless. Let’s be that together.”

Jo gave her a look that said ‘I don’t believe you’, but all she said was, “I’d be honoured.”

“Do you know where Maggie is?” Y/N asked. “I have to thank her when I can get out of this room.”

“She’s gone,” Jo told her regretfully. “She said something about another world.”

It took a week for Y/N to recover.

Lance and his retinue were meant to leave tomorrow. He had requested an audience with her the day before his departure, and she had gladly accepted. However, instead of meeting in the throne room, she’d demanded to see him in the garden where they could be alone.

She had ordered the servants to grow some winter flowers in the garden. Her mother had always wanted that. As she was admiring the primroses, she heard heavy footsteps coming up from behind, and so she spoke before the person could, “Your walk is so loud, you’d scare off the prey during a hunt.”

Lance laughed lowly as he stopped beside her, hands behind his back. He was dressed in all black, his silky hair was dark as midnight. In her white garden, he stood out the most.

“I’m not hunting and you’re not my prey,” he said.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you finally going to give me answers?”

“Yes.” He inclined his head. “And also...an apology. I should not have caused so much chaos.”

She lifted her shoulders. “We both slit our brothers’ throats. I’m not fit to judge you, am I?”

His dimples made an appearance at her response.

She expected him to wait for her to prompt, but then he commenced, “I was supposed to marry your aunt. Queen Calanthe of Theros.”

Y/N assessed his face to make sure he wasn’t joking. His eyebrows were drawn together; he could not look more sincere.

“My father had offered the marriage to save her after her family had been executed. But she chose your uncle’s proposal because she’d rather be married to a king than a bastard.”

This information amused her more than it should. She couldn’t help but smirk. “So you hate her because she turned you down and hurt your pride?”

“Some would find your mockery offensive, my lady.” He grinned.

“Do you?”

“I find it attractive.”

She waved off his compliment. “Don’t expect me to swoon and sigh for that.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he said, still grinning. “To answer your question ‘Why did you kill your brother?’: My half brother was an idiot and since my father’s reign was over, he was going to be the new king.”

Y/N blinked. “The king of Attwell is dead?”

Lance nodded. “The news hasn’t been announced to the people of Attwell yet, but it would be when my half brother returns with his new bride, which was supposed to be you.”

“So you planned on killing Kavan and then Egon in the hope of stealing his bride and ruling two kingdoms at once.”

Lance lifted a brow as though to say ‘well done, you’ve figured it out.’

“I raised an army,” he told her. “People of Attwell are more open-minded than those of Isolde. They serve whoever they think is more competent, and most of them have chosen me as their leader. No one would speak of what had happened here. When we get back to the West, we’ll tell the people that Kavan has been murdered in Egon’s order.”

“So you lied your way to the throne?”

“Are you judging me?”

“No. Just wondering.” She arched her lips. “Well then, congratulations on your soon-to-happen coronation.”

Lance took a moment to contemplate her face. She almost thought he’d lost grip on reality. Then, he said, “Not everyone would be happy that their new king is a bastard. Same as how many of your people would react to having a female ruler.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you suggesting, my lord?”

“Call me Lance,” he said with a hand over his heart.

She nodded. “Well, Lance?”

“A marriage to unite our kingdoms.”

“No,” she answered without pause. “I did not kill my own brother to hand my reign to you. A foreigner. And no offence, a bastard.”

Lance didn’t look offended at the slightest. “We are both the black sheep of our family, Y/N,” he said quietly.

“You may call me Your Majesty.” Her anger didn’t stir him. If anything, he seemed even calmer than before. She lifted her chin. “I suppose you wonder how I’d convinced the witch to save Jo’s life.”

“There have been different versions of the story,” he said, his forehead puckered. “No one dares to ask you, however.”

“Well, I’m going to tell you now, Lance. In return for Jo’s life, I gave up the ability to produce an heir. So you will gain nothing from this marriage.”

“I’m not proposing to you for a baby, Y/N!” She glowered at him, and he cleared his throat into his fist, his face reddening. “Sorry…Your Majesty. But that was not the reason I’m proposing–”

“You’re not proposing to me at all. Good day, my lord.”

She turned and he caught her elbow. She shot him a glare, and he released her in an instant.

“Think about it,” he said. “You gave up the chance to have an heir, and I suppose you’re not going to marry, either. Because you cannot bend the rules of your kingdom for your own benefits and marry a peasant.”

This time, her gaze silenced him. And she regretted it. He’d heard the rumours about her ‘romantic excursion’. Now she’d confirmed it was true. She’d shown her weakness and he was going to use it against her.

Lance stepped forward until he was close enough for her to see herself in his grey eyes. “If you have a king by your side–”

“I don’t need a king.”

“Yes, you do. It’s politics,” he said. “Look, we can have an agreement. The marriage will be based solely on the political stability of our kingdoms. We’re neighbours so the North and the West can become one. I will rule my country and you will rule yours, separately, but together. I will even stay here in your court if it means that I get a chance to gain your trust. I don’t want an heir. I just want to do the best I can for my people and be the ruler they need. Calanthe can use the murder of Egon to turn the other kingdoms against Isolde, and I cannot side with her. Your people would let you rule in peace if you have a king by your side, and my people would let me rule in peace if I marry an actual royal queen.”

She took some time to ponder over his words before asking, “Why can’t you side with Calanthe?”

He gave an open-mouthed smile. “Well, first of all, she rejected my proposal and insulted me.”

“So you’re a bitter little boy?”

Her teasing made him chuckle.

“What is the second reason?” she asked, genuinely curious.

His eyes found hers. “Am I allowed to say I fancy you?”

Y/N went stiff. She worked her jaw, trying to find an answer, but the Prince didn’t wait for her to succeed.

“We won’t have to fall in love,” he said, smirking. “Unless you want to.”

“I don’t. Thank you,” she huffed and looked away. “But I will consider this agreement.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” He took her fingers, his lips warm against the cool skin of her hand. He glanced up from beneath his long lashes “I would gain your trust. You have my word.”

She could not withdraw her hand fast enough. “I would love to see you try.”

There was a ball that night in celebration of the Queen’s recovery.

Y/N had not doubted Lance’s warnings about how she was perceived by her subjects. But it wasn’t until she conversed with the courtiers that she allowed herself to fully believe him. As courteous as they might appear, she could feel it in their words, bows and curtsies that half of these people doubted her, the other half feared her. Though they had bent the knees, their loyalty was not rooted.

However, they loved Lance. She supposed it was because they knew nothing about him while Egon had spent all those months convincing the people that she was either a madwoman or a whore. When she was with Lance, her subjects seemed to like her better.

The courtiers who had witnessed the massacre in the throne room were not allowed to speak of it to the public. So the other members of the gentry who had not been here only knew the details of the duel, and Lance was portrayed as the knight in shining armour who’d shown up just in time.

Of course, people also knew about Y/N’s bravery and that she’d commanded a witch to bring Jo back to life. Y/N believed that was why they feared her. But she didn’t want to be feared. She wanted to be loved, like her mother. She had spent her whole life trying to not be like her father and Egon. With Lance by her side, she might succeed. Everyone loved the romanticized version of what had happened that day, with less blood and death, more prince carrying princess home from the bloody battle. Tonight, she would give them that. She was still on the fence about the proposal, but the ball tonight had really made her think.

That was until she saw him.

At first, she thought it was only a trick of the mind. Because there was no possible way he could sneak past the guards to enter the castle, let alone attend the royal ball. But she could not mistake him from any other faces. That was him.

Their eyes met from across the room. He was dressed like a gentleman, probably had stolen the clothes from a real gentleman who’d been too drunk to care. She wouldn’t be surprised if it was true.

She opened her mouth although he wouldn’t be able to hear her voice over the music even if she shouted his name. Suddenly, he broke their gaze and disappeared through the doors like a ghost.

She immediately excused herself from the conversation and left Lance to entertain the guests with his jokes; they liked him better anyway.

No one followed her as she ducked out of the ballroom, holding up her full skirt as she ran down the long stairs leading to the garden. The snow was falling thick and the night was black. The dim flickering of lanterns could not help her see more than ten steps ahead of her.

The snow had covered the footsteps of the runaway guest, if he existed at all. She believed he did. She wanted to believe so. She found herself wandering into the darkness as the wind blew stronger and colder. One of her hands holding the crown upon her head, the other gripping her skirt, her hair flying wild, and her eyes burning from the cold.

“HARRY!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, the howling of the wind drowning out her voice. “IF YOU DON’T SHOW YOUR FACE, I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!”

There was no answer. She feared he couldn’t hear her, and after a moment, as the hot tears turned to frost on her cheeks and eyelashes, she feared that she’d gone mad.

“Y/N!”

She whipped her head around to the doorway where Lance stood with a guard in the warm glow of the castle corridor. He rushed down the stairs toward her while shrugging off his coat and wrapped it around her body. He tugged her to his chest and walked her back inside.

“What happened?” he panted, his gloved hands warming up her cheeks. Her teeth were rattling, and she could see her breath. “Are you hurt, Y/N? Speak to me!”

“No,” she managed to say. “I thought I saw someone…”

“An intruder?”

“I don’t know.” She swallowed and buried her face into his chest. She was crying. She couldn’t control it, but it felt good to let it all out. Lance rubbed her back and mumbled into her hair that it could be a wild animal and he’d send the guards to search in the garden. Her heart jumped as she thought of Harry getting caught. But maybe he deserved it. If the guards caught him, they’d present him to her, their Queen. And she’d meant it when she’d said she wouldn’t forgive him for messing with her like that.

Deep down she knew there was no Harry. Just her mind playing tricks on her.

“Would you like to return to the ball?” Lance asked, still not letting her go.

She shook her head, still shivering. He didn’t object and told the guard behind him to escort the Queen back to her bed-chamber.

“I’ll tell the guests that you don’t feel well,” he said.

She scowled at him from beneath her frosted lashes. “I don’t trust you to deliver the words. You’ve tried to win my people’s affection all night.”

He laughed a little, his hands were firm on her shoulders. “Just because you can resist me doesn’t mean the others can.”

At that moment, the Lord Chancellor appeared at the end of the hallway, apparently also looking for the two of them.

“There you are, my lord,” said Lance. “The Queen doesn’t feel well. She’d like to return to her bed-chamber.” Then he gave her a look which said ‘do you believe me now?’

She rolled her eyes in answer and pushed away from him. His touch lingered on her body when she left.

The guard followed her all the way back to her chambers. She could not wait to be alone so she could scream and break things, so as soon as she entered the room, she ordered for all the maids to leave. The door fell shut, but she could still feel the guard’s presence. He was standing at the door, in full armour.

“Did Lance tell you to stay?” she sighed. “Get out. You are not needed. I’m going to have to change my clothes.”

The guard didn’t move.

Something was wrong.

Intruder. Think fast.

Y/N held her breath as she ambled to the bed. Right as she drew out her dagger from under her pillow and raised it in the air, the guard had advanced and caught her by the wrist. She did not give in. She kicked and screamed. He covered her mouth and said something, but his voice was muffled by the helmet. She punched him and he pinned her to the bed, straddling her waist. He managed to take the dagger from her hand and held it at her throat.

He tried to tell her something again.

Wait, the ring. The ring on his finger! She knew that ring!

Before she could react, the guard used his free hand to pull off the helmet, his long brown curls tumbling out, dim candlelight flickering in his green eyes.

“It’s me, Peach,” he said, his voice soft and warm.

He smiled that beautiful smile.

And she struck him across the face.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #tctm series

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heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Chapter 4: Chasing Shadows

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which Harry keeps visiting the same place in his dreams.

Word count: 8.8k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

ANNOUNCEMENT:

For the next two weeks, I’ll be extremely busy with two exams and my job and all that adult stuff (ugh). I’ll still post blurbs and take a two-week break from the series.

***Chapter 5 will be posted on Wednesday, August 26, 2020.

“Do I really have to be tied to a chair?”

“Yes.”

Y/N took a little knife from the tray the guard was holding, holding back a grin as Harry flicked his eyes between the blades, her and the two men in armours.

“My anxiety is peaking right now,” he said.

She snorted and waved the knife in front of his face, finding it entertaining how his breath caught as he recoiled. “Don’t worry. I used to do this for my father and brother.”

“I don’t remember what those people looked like so I cannot be sure you’re good at it.”

Y/N pressed her lips into a smile. “You’ve never met my father. And you probably shouldn’t remember my brother.” Especially when Egon had been haunting most of her nightmares.

“Sorry…” Harry mumbled. “Let’s not talk about your family then.”

“Let’s not talk at all.” She just wanted to get this done and leave. If he said something that hurt her again, she might just cry in front of him and that would be embarrassing.

Slowly and cautiously, her trembling fingers reached for his face. She was indecisive about how she should touch him, as for him, hers would be the touch of a stranger; she wouldn’t want a stranger to just grab her face and angle it however they liked. But then Harry’s mouth curled to one side and he nudged her hand with his cheek like a horse.

“You can touch me. I'm clean. They gave me a bath this morning.” His cheek felt warm against her skin and she moved her thumb gently over his stubble beard. He grinned at her tentative touch. “It was very...new,” he said, “to have five men watching you bathe.”

She couldn’t help but giggle, gaining more confident to slide her hand down to his jaw, lifting his face. “I wouldn’t even go near you if you smelled bad.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“You didn’t say ‘no offence’, so I’m offended.”

He was doing it again – cracking jokes when he didn’t have to – because silence pained him. He was just as nervous as she was. And somehow knowing that made her feel more comfortable.

She lifted the knife and felt him grow tenser as she approached. “Stay still and I’ll try not to cut you.”

“Try?” His eyes grew big. Her mouth twitched as she shushed him and started on the left side of his face.

She’d lied. She’d not cut her father’s and brother’s hair nor shaved their beards; she just wanted Harry to trust her. Before this, he would have trusted her even if she’d held the knife whose blade was buried in his chest. Now they had to start over. It wasn’t easy to win his trust; neither was it to win hers.

She finished shaving the right side of his face without having cut him. His breathing steady as he relaxed into his seat. Their eyes met by accident, and the knot in her stomach also relaxed. They didn’t converse until she was done.

She put the knife back on the tray and picked up a sharp pair of scissors when the sound of the large door to the dungeon made her jump. Footsteps descended the stairs. And Lance emerged at the cell door.

Harry scoffed. “Has everyone in the castle been invited to see me get a haircut?”

Y/N ignored him and asked Lance, “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah,” he said, squaring his shoulders as he leaned back against the wall. “I’m just here to make sure he won’t lay a finger on my betrothed.”

Y/N shot him a warning look, and Harry asked, “What’s a betrothed?”

The question nagged at her yet she did not let it show. She’d explained the word to him before; she’d been six and he’d been eight. Back then he hadn’t known who she was and yet the memory had also been erased.

“Do you always talk this much?” she heard Lance ask Harry, probably to distract him from her unusual pause. But Harry didn’t look at Lance. He tilted his head to the side and asked her, “Are you feeling unwell? We can do this another time.”

“I’m fine.” She forced a grin so he wouldn’t suspect it. Her Harry would be able to see right through that. This Harry was completely oblivious to her hurt feelings.

Y/N brushed off the uneasiness and pressed her hand into Harry’s curls, being as careful as she could to test the water. She could feel both Lance’s and Harry’s gaze on her as she started cutting with experimental motions at first, and grew more confident with every snip of the scissors.

An evil idea crossed her mind. She considered giving him the stupidest haircut to make him pay for having put her through all this misery. Then, she saw that soft look in his eyes and the thought vanished as soon as it’d appeared.

Why was she mad at him? It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t remember anything. It was her fault that he was like this. Harry wouldn’t be mad at her if she were the one who forgot; he’d be patient with her because he loved her.

He loved me, she told herself. Not anymore.

She set aside all the longing to focus on trimming the back and sides of his head and ended up in front of him again. With a last snip of the scissors, brown hair floated to the floor. She took a step back to assess her work, widening her focus to take in more than just his hair. The transformation left her speechless. She hadn’t thought he would look this good with short hair. All the ladies in court were going to throw themselves at him as if they hadn’t tried before.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Harry asked, his face taut with distress. “How long do I have to hide in the dark until it looks normal again?”

Y/N let a smile sneak onto her lip as she lifted his face with the handle of the scissors under his chin. “It’s good. I’m good. Lance, what do you think?”

“Average,” Lance said without a second thought, his expression neutral. “I mean him. Not your work.”

Y/N glared at him, and he shrugged as Harry let out a scoff. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Your Majesty.”

“Stop it. Both of you,” Y/N snapped as she put the scissors back on the tray.

Lance didn’t say another word and ordered the two guards to come with him. She knew he did it on purpose to let her be alone with Harry. If only she could tell Lance how grateful she was. They hadn’t been talking since Harry had returned.

The door above the stairs fell shut, the sound echoing across the dungeon. Y/N had her dagger at her waist and Harry was tied to a chair and unarmed, so if he tried something, she’d be able to take him. She went behind him to untie his wrists, and as slowly as she could, closed her fingers around the hilt of her dagger.

But Harry didn’t make a move. He sat there as she returned to stand in front of him. His eyes dropped to her chest, and her face burned red as she thought he was staring at her cleavage. It took her a second to realize it was the bruised marks around her neck that were holding his attention.

Without saying a word, he reached out his hand, and she gripped her dagger as he touched her there, grazing his thumb gently over the skin. “It looks worse,” he said, his forehead creased. “Does it hurt?”

She slowly shook her head. Her brain was telling her to step back because he was dangerous and his kindness might be fake, but every other piece of her wanted to hold him and never let go until the old Harry crawled back to the surface and loved her again.

“How about your wounds?” she asked, pointing to his torso. “You got a pretty bad one there.”

He wiggled his brows teasingly. “How do you know?”

She rolled her eyes. “I saw the attacker aim for that spot before I was shot.”

“Oh…” He shifted a bit in his chair, rubbing his hands against his thighs. Meanwhile, she took in his new appearance, trying to get used to it. He looked like a prince. With a crown, he could be Lance’s equal. Something stirred inside her. He could be a completely different man now. What if she’d lost him forever?

“How long do I have to stay here?” he asked.

She blinked. “What?”

“How long do I have to stay here?” he repeated the question, looking rather anxious. “I don’t–I don’t think my memory’s coming back.”

A thin edge of hurt worked its way under her skin as she tried not to let it show by keeping a straight face.

Harry combed his fingers through his hair, faltering as the unfamiliarity caught him by surprise. He swallowed dryly and went on, “So if you’re hoping to get some information out of me, I don’t think I’ll be able to help you. I cannot stay here forever.”

Y/N knew that. Right from the start, she should have known that he didn’t belong here. If she hadn’t been so selfish and begged him to stay in the North, he might have travelled the world and been married by now, with children and a wife who was gentle and kind and wouldn’t keep him in the dark or put him in danger.

“I cannot send you back to the South if that’s what you’re asking,” she said. “No one from the North is allowed to cross the South’s border.”

“I know,” he sighed and dropped his gaze to his feet. “Can I at least see Kenny? She’s the only family I’ve got here…” Y/N swallowed as she averted her eyes and clenched her fists. He didn’t notice how agitated she’d become. “Or does she not want to see me? I don’t remember what went wrong with us. I still have so many questions for her.”

Y/N could offer to answer all those questions; Kenny didn’t know him as well as she did, not anymore. But she could not do it without revealing their past. Would he think she was lying if she told him that he used to be in love with her, that he’d chosen to be with her instead of with Kenny and sworn to never let anything bad happen to her as long as he lived?

It didn’t work that way. You couldn’t make someone love you again just by telling them that they should. And she could not see him falling in love with her again, not when she was betrothed to Lance and her kingdom was at war. Her Harry would take her secrets to the grave. This Harry had tried to kill her.

“Fine,” she sighed. “You may meet Kenny. I’ll call for her and Stefan.”

“One more thing,” he blurted before she could leave. “Could you...call for only Kenny?” As she narrowed her eyes, he explained, “It’d be uncomfortable for all three of us if—”

“I see,” she cut him off, keeping a straight face. “Anything else?”

Y/N didn’t realize how vexed she’d sounded until she saw him blush. “No. Nothing else. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

She stared at him while he stared at his feet. A thousand things she wanted to say – but could not – piled up on her tongue. And when she left, Harry didn’t stop her.

Kenny seemed disconcerted to see him.

At first, Harry had thought she didn’t like how he looked with his hair so short (he’d requested for a mirror but the guard had ignored him, even after he’d said he was best friends with the Queen. Where was Y/N when he needed her?). But having known Kenny for that many years, he could easily guess that it wasn’t his haircut that she found unpleasant; it was the fact that he’d asked to see her alone.

Kenny looked quite different now. She’d always been beautiful, but now she looked more mature, which made sense because she was a wife and a mother of a baby girl. His last memory of her had been the day he’d left Theros and they’d made a vow that they’d get married when he returned. Now he was living in the past while the whole world had moved on and left him behind.

“You look good,” Kenny said with a nervous chuckle. “The Queen did a good job.”

Harry instinctively tugged at his short curls. “I thought she was lying when she said she’d done it before.” Kenny’s face contorted a bit. He whipped his head to both directions of the aisle outside his cell. “What? Is she here?”

“What do you think of the Queen?” Kenny asked, taking him by surprise.

He took a moment to think. It was always safe to be careful with what you said about kings and queens. “She’s all right,” he said. “Cold. But I think most Northerners are. It’s the ice in their blood.”

Kenny smiled a little and wrapped her shawl around herself as if being near him made her uncomfortable. “She’s getting married next month.”

“So I heard,” Harry snorted. “She and the King make a great match, although he could be quite a dick and she’s more on the softer side.” Then he waved his comment away. “Let’s not talk about them. It’s not like we’re invited to their wedding. Wait, are we invited to their wedding?”

Kenny didn’t answer his question. “What do you want to talk about then?”

She wanted him to get straight to the point and get this over with. It’d be a lie to say it didn’t hurt his feelings.

“Us, Kenny.” Harry frowned. “I want to talk about us.”

There was a pained expression on Kenny’s face as she opened and closed her mouth a couple of times and yet could not find the right words to begin. Harry decided not to wait. “I know that you’ve told me everything you knew, but I still have so many questions about us. Some things just don’t make sense...at least to me…”

Kenny fidgeted with her fingers. “Like what?”

“Like…” He pursed his lips, hugging the bars as he leaned forward against it. “If you only married Gideon because you thought I was dead, then why didn’t we get together after you—” He cut himself off just in time, not wanting to bring up the fact that she’d had to kill the bastard herself. He didn’t want to hurt Kenny more than that memory already had. “After we’d run away,” he corrected himself, “why did I end up here in the North and left you with Stefan?”

“I already told you, Crow. You wanted to serve the Queen because you two had bonded throughout the journey.”

“Why would I choose her over you? I would never choose anyone over you.”

She pressed her lips into a soft grin, probably to calm him yet it only made him more uneasy. “You fell out of love with me on the journey. We decided to stay friends.”

The light from the torch beside his cell flickered across her cheekbones. He tore his eyes from hers. His heart sank in as he smiled sadly to himself. “I cannot imagine a world where it’s so easy to fall out of love with you.”

Kenny stayed quiet for a moment. He expected her to just turn and leave him here for the memories to consume, but then she took a few steps until she was close enough for him to touch. He didn’t. He kept his fingers wrapped around the bars, reminding himself that she was Stefan’s wife and the mother of a child. Harry wasn’t going to mess up her perfect new life.

“I love Stefan,” she told him as if she could see right through him. “I don’t want to ruin your friendship with him. Stefan cares about you.”

“I know,” he sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, only to remember his long curls were gone. As he spoke, his voice was more brittle than he thought it’d be. “Does he make you happy?”

Kenny nodded and smiled. “Very.”

“Then...I’m happy for you,” he said despite how he felt. Then after another moment, “Did I fall in love with someone else?”

Kenny seemed taken aback by the question. She shook her head slowly. “I-I don’t know. We never talked about it. Why did you think so?” There was a short pause. “Did you...remember something?”

“No. That was the only way I could see myself falling out of love with you.”

He regretted saying it the second the words slipped out. He thought he’d upset her, but Kenny only beamed and reached for his hand around the bar. Her touch was gentle and warm, and in his head he imagined himself dropping down onto his knees and begging her to come back to him.

At first, he’d cried and blamed the Queen for everything he’d lost that he could not get back. It was because of her that he’d left Kenny with Stefan. It was because of her that he’d gone to battle and lost his memory and had to live in the past while everyone he loved had moved on.

But then he’d seen the Queen in his dream one night, and after he’d woken up, she’d shown up at his cell. He could not hate her or blame her for the things she could not control. She’d suffered, too, perhaps more than he had, internally. She’d tried to mask it, but her expressive eyes had given it away. Maybe this was nobody’s fault and he and Kenny just weren’t meant to be. He should be glad that she was free from Gideon and had ended up with Stefan.

“I have to return to my daughter,” Kenny said as she tucked a strand behind her ear; he’d been staring at it the whole time, wishing he could do it for her.

“What’s her name?”

“What?”

“Your daughter. What’s her name?”

“Eva.”

“Can I see her?” He chuckled. “When they release me, of course.”

“Sure. She’ll like you,” Kenny said.

“How long are you staying here?” he blurted before she could turn away, not ready for this conversation to end.

“For as long as the King and Queen need me,” Kenny replied.

Harry didn’t know what the King and Queen needed Kenny for. He assumed that it might be because Kenny was the only person who could make sure he wouldn’t try to hurt anyone again. After all, Y/N had told him two nights ago that she didn’t trust him anymore. He couldn’t blame her. If anything, he admired her for how she’d been dealing with this whole mess.

“Maybe you should ask the Queen to let you stay,” he said brightly, trying to sound cheerful. “Then Eva could become friends with the future heir to the throne.”

Kenny’s smile faded. Harry must have said something wrong. “The Queen cannot produce an heir.”

“Oh.” His smile also vanished. “Fuck...I feel bad for her.” No wonder Y/N was so cold. But how could she know she couldn’t produce an heir?

Harry knew it was none of his business, but for some reason, he was curious. Would it be rude if he asked her the next time he saw her?

“I’ll see you another time?” Kenny said.

Harry worked up a tight smile, trying not to acknowledge the waver in his voice. “Goodbye. Say hello to Stefan and Eva for me.”

Just like that, Kenny left, without taking a second look at him.

Y/N was woken by Jo screaming her name in the corridor before bursting into her bed chamber and slamming the door shut with her back.

The morning sun was a diffused orb of light through the window. A tiny pulsing spurred at Y/N’s temples from not getting enough sleep, and she climbed free from the bed, light-headed and empty.

She didn’t remember how she’d fallen asleep. She’d been so afraid of the nightmares that she couldn’t even shut her eyes. She’d wanted to go to Lance’s chamber — she felt safer with him — but she didn’t want to trouble him, especially after he’d made it clear that they should keep their distance until she was completely over Harry. She should respect his wishes. Yet, she missed him.

She didn’t know how to tell him she’d grown used to having him around and depending on him so much that she felt lost without him. How could she say that when she was still hopelessly in love with Harry? And how could she still be hopelessly in love with Harry if it was Lance who made her feel safe?

Her heart lurched as Lance emerged at the doorway and gave her a tender smile.

“There you are, Your Royal Majesty,” Jo said to Lance in a sarcastic tone as she settled on the edge of Y/N’s bed. “I’ve got great news.”

“Harry finally remembers?” Y/N said.

“You’re leaving court?” Lance said.

“No,” Jo told Y/N. To Lance, she said, “I will strangle you and I don’t care that's treason.”

Lance’s mouth fell open. “Your lady-in-waiting just threatened me!” he told Y/N, and she smiled and gave him a shrug to say, ‘You might as well get used to it.’

Jo clapped her hands to get their attention. “It’s Mary! I came to see her at dawn!”

“You what?!” Y/N and Lance cried at the same time.

“Yes,” Jo said calmly. “I came to see her and I made her talk.”

“But how?” Lance asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jo said. Y/N and Lance exchanged looks of concern though neither interrupted her. “She told me about the antidote.”

Lance snorted as he walked in and stood in front of them, hands behind his back. “She said there was no antidote.”

Jo shot him an annoyed look. “That’s because she wasn’t sure if it existed.”

“What does that mean?” Y/N asked, losing her patience.

Jo scooted over for Lance to sit down beside her. “It’s The Lake of Tears," she said.

“The what?”

Jo rolled her eyes as she turned to Lance. “I keep forgetting that you’re not from here. Here in the North, there’s folklore about a witch who was born with half a heart. She was gifted with healing powers and could cure all sickness, mental or physical, but she could not cure the pain caused by missing half of her heart. The witch spent all her life searching for the other half. When she got to the top of the highest mountain in the North, it was winter, she was freezing to death and alone, so she cried and cried and her tears formed a lake, drowning her in it. Folks call it The Lake of Tears and it’s said to be the cure for all sickness and can reverse all curses and spells.”

“But it cannot bring a dead person back to life,” Y/N added.

Lance’s face was screwed up as he eyed Jo with speculation. “You expect us to believe that there’s a lake on the North mountain — the coldest part of Isolde — that’s not frozen and has magical powers?”

“Are you calling our ancestors liars?”

“You said it was folklore, so yes.”

“How dare you—”

“Enough!” Y/N snapped and four eyes turned to her. She sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry, Jo. But I’m with Lance in this. Even Mary, who was a witch, doesn’t fully believe that the lake exists, so why should we?”

“Mary does believe in it,” Jo said quickly. “She told me she and her sister had tried to find the lake but they could not bear the cold and always gave up halfway. I think such powers may exist.”

“It’s dangerous to climb that mountain in winter,” Lance said, his voice rough, and Y/N thought he’d frightened Jo a bit. Y/N knew Lance. He was just worried for her.

“It is,” she said and their eyes locked. “But you shouldn’t unbelieve in something just because it frightens you.”

Lance wanted to rebut, yet he could not figure out what to say. His mouth opened then shut and he averted his eyes, leaning forward with elbows on his knees and hands clasped together. Jo seemed relieved that Lance had given in. She sat up straight. “Y/N?”

Y/N pursed her lips, thinking for another second. “Bring me breakfast,” she said. “I’ll eat and we’ll talk more about it.”

“Yes!”

“Y/N—”

“It might be our only hope, Lance,” she cut him off as Jo skipped toward the door and left as fast as she’d arrived.

The silence sank in as Y/N stood up, arms wrapped around herself. Lance stayed seated on her bed, watching her with a look of concern.

“I was right about Harry being alive,” she said. “So I might be right to believe in this, too.”

Lance exhaled sharply. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up and get disappointed and eventually hurt. I know you love him,” there was something painful in the way he said it, “but what if...what if he cannot come back? What if the person who loved you was gone forever? What then?”

Those were the questions that had been haunting her since the moment she saw the look in Harry’s eyes when he looked at her — the look you’d give a stranger you never intended to see again. There was not a single sign of ‘do I know you?’ or 'have we met before?' Just ‘who are you?’.

“But when I talked to him,” she began, almost like she was thinking out loud, “I felt like the old Harry was there. He might still feel something for me but his feelings are buried deep inside. I think given time I can get him back.”

Lance said nothing at all. You knew Lance had given up on you when he didn’t try to win an argument.

“I’ll leave you to rest,” he said and rose to his feet.

Just as he was about to head for the door, Y/N jumped into his way and held out her hands. He flinched, just as surprised as she was.

“S-Stay,” she uttered. “Just...just stay here with me until Jo returns. Please? I don’t want to be alone with my own thoughts.”

He took some time to consider her. “Have those nightmares been keeping you up?” It didn’t sound like a question; he just knew.

She nodded. “The same one every night…” in which you and Harry were dying and I could only save one. I tried saving both and then had to watch both of you die…

Her gaze fell to the floor. She saw his feet shifting closer until his arms closed around her, pulling her into him. As he kissed the top of her head and gently stroked her hair, she set aside the guilt and allowed herself to enjoy the comfort of his embrace.

“I missed you, Y/N,” he whispered.

“So did I,” she admitted, bringing her hands to rest on his back. “Are we still friends?”

He chuckled. “Only behind closed doors. I can’t always look soft; it’s bad for my public image.”

Y/N snorted and buried her face into his chest. He still smelled like forest and winter, the things that used to frighten her. But at this moment, with him, she felt safe.

“What are we doing here?”

“Am I in trouble?”

“Does this have anything to do with getting my memory back? Who are you, by the way?”

Jo swept her eyes across each face and as she stopped at Harry, her face twisted into a scowl. “You’re more annoying than I remember,” she said. “Anyway, we’re here because I need your help.”

Kenny hugged the sleeping child to her chest, the corners of her mouth lowered as she considered their surroundings. “To clean...the library?”

Jo took a look around at the dusty shelves and let out a sigh. This place did need a lot of cleaning. It seemed as if nobody in this castle knew how to read.

“As you can see,” Kenny said, lifting her baby, “my hands are tied.”

“So are mine,” Harry said. “Literally.” Then lifted his tied hands.

Jo rolled her eyes. “Someone untie him.” The blonde standing beside Harry shifted and Jo forestalled her, “No, not you. This one bites.”

The young maid shied back instantly, and when her eyes met Harry’s and he gave her a lopsided grin, it heightened the colour in her cheeks. Jo cleared her throat and shot Harry a warning glare before she gestured for Stefan to untie Harry.

“We’re going to do some light reading today," she said. "Are there any of you who cannot read?”

Harry raised his hand.

“Why am I not surprised?” Jo grumbled.

“Harry, you can read!” Kenny cried.

Harry put his hand down and smirked. “Sorry, I was just testing my hand. Those ropes were way too tight for my blood circulation.”

Jo pinned him with a glare. “I liked you better when you were dead.”

“Wow...Did I steal your money or your grandma’s jewellery?” he chuckled. “Because if I did, I’m sorry.”

Jo almost said, ‘You stole the girl I love and you're going to hurt her,’ but instead she just ignored his remark and went on, “We’re going to do some research for the Queen. I’ll explain to you later but I need your help because there’s little time and a lot of books. Kenny, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“No, I love reading.”

“Great. Oh, this is Natasha. She’s the new maid and she’ll also be joining us.”

“This is my first task ever, and I’m excit—”

“Thank you, Nat,” Jo cut her off, annoyed by how Harry and the new girl kept exchanging questionable glances. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t want to read, you can return to your cell.”

“No. I love to read,” he said, but then his eyes quickly found Natasha again. Jo could tell the girl was enjoying the attention more than she should. Jo should be glad that Harry wasn’t going to get his memory back, but what she was feeling was the opposite; she didn’t want Y/N to get hurt.

“Will the King and Queen be joining us?” Harry asked.

“No. They’ve got more important things to do.”

“Because of the protests?”

“We’re not discussing politics here,” Jo said quickly. Harry’s sudden interest in the protests reminded her that he could not be trusted. She flicked her two fingers for the four of them to follow, and as they walked deeper into the candlelit library, Harry and Natasha were already laughing at the back of the line. Jo clenched her fists and her jaw, feeling thankful that Y/N wasn’t here.

Harry didn’t know what he was doing.

He flipped open the front cover of the third book and was met with the musty scent of burnt amber. They were supposed to read everything about the North mountain and folklore about a witch, her desperate search for the other half of her heart, and a lake made of tears that might or might not exist.

Jo had said that the Queen was looking for the lake, but she hadn’t mentioned what for. It was none of Harry's business anyway; he just wanted to finish this pile of books so he could get some sleep.

He’d been reading for two hours straight and his mind kept wandering to different places and he’d almost nodded off a couple of times. He rested his head on his knuckles and flipped another page, fighting the drowsiness that was taking over him. Suddenly, he felt something soft rubbing against his ankle and looked up to find the new maid grinning at him. He raised an eyebrow, his mouth curled when her foot nudged him under the table again.

Beside Natasha, Kenny was resting her head on Stefan’s shoulder and rocking their baby as Stefan read. Harry was trying his best not to wince. As if staying up so late to read stories weren’t boring enough, he had to do it with the girl he still loved and her husband, too.

He took a deep breath and decided to ignore the happy family as he picked up his book and moved to sit next to Natasha. Jo looked at him with an unpleasant expression which he also ignored. This whole night had been exhausting so he might as well have some fun on his own.

“Do you know why we’re doing this?” he asked Natasha in hushed tones, leaning in so close that their shoulders were touching. He could see her face turning red and suddenly thought of the Queen, not knowing why.

Natasha was quite the opposite of the Queen, who was undoubtedly beautiful but the sullen look on her face made her appear much older than nineteen. Natasha, on the other hand, looked young and playful and full of wonder, and she was pretty, too.

She told him she didn’t know more than he did, if not less, and that she could not wait for this to be over. “I thought my first task as the Queen’s maid would be more interesting,” she whispered to him. When her lips brushed his ear, he assumed it was on purpose. Not that he minded.

“Like what?” he asked, intentionally touching her arm with his knuckles.

“I thought I’d get to meet the Queen and braid her hair,” said Natasha. “I heard that she was the most beautiful girl in the land.”

Strange. Harry believed he’d heard this before. “She is,” he said. “I’ve met her.”

Natasha’s face brightened. “Really? What is she like?”

He tapped his chin with a finger, pouting as he glanced heavenward. “Very...queeny.”

His answer made Natasha giggle, and Jo immediately shushed them. Harry locked his lips with an invisible key and tossed it over his shoulder as Natasha tittered into her palm. Jo closed the book, hard, sending dust flying as she stood. She was just about to scold Harry when the door swung open and another maid rushed in. “Jo, the Queen was looking for you.”

“What for?”

The other maid shrugged. “She couldn’t find her dagger.”

A dagger? Harry flinched. Why does the Queen–

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” Jo sighed as she put down the book. Before she left, she stabbed a finger at him. “Do not leave the room, Harry.” Then she and the other maid disappeared out of the door without an explanation.

Harry released a long sigh that got three sets of eyes turning to him. He waved for Kenny and Stefan to ignore him, and as the pair turned away, he whispered to Natasha, “Can you wake me up when she returns?”

He had no idea why he was so tired. Normally he wouldn’t fall asleep so easily at night, but right now his eyelids felt so heavy he couldn’t keep them open any longer.

“Sure,” Natasha said and playfully jutted out one shoulder. “You can rest your head here. I don’t mind.”

And he did. As soon as he closed his eyes, the smell of old books and her unfamiliar fragrance lulled him to sleep.

When Harry opened his eyes, he was standing in the castle corridor – the same one he’d been to in his dream the other night. There was no ceiling. Above him was a sky full of stars and the pale moonlight left long stripes of shadows on the floor. He tried a door on his right. It was locked. So was the next one. And the one next to it. All the doors in this hallway were locked. He called out, “Hello!” But all he heard was echoes of his own voice.

Nails dug into his palms, he wandered ahead. He kept on walking and walking and walking until the endless blackness began to clear like smoke. At the end of the corridor, he saw a crooked door. There was water leaking out from under it, drenching his bare feet. The water rose up to his knees, and the next thing he knew, he was swimming toward the door in desperation. He banged his fists against it and the door burst open. Water poured out, sending him rolling across the grass.

He pushed up onto his hands and knees to find that his clothes were dry again. And when he looked around, there was no door. He was standing on a hill. The air was cold. The sky was pink. There were still patches of snow here and there. He thought the scenes looked quite familiar, but he could not remember where he’d seen this before.

Suddenly, a hand grasped his wrist and he whipped around. The world rushed back in, and he saw Natasha staring at him with wide eyes.

He’d returned to the corridor, the real one. There were torches along the walls and Natasha’s skin felt hot against his cold skin.

“Where are you going?” Natasha asked and tugged at his arm. “And why are you so cold? Are you all right?”

“W-What happened?” he asked, still shivering.

“What happened? You suddenly stood up and left the room and I chased after you.” What? But the last thing he remembered was him falling asleep in the library. Did it mean he’d been sleepwalking? Since when did he sleepwalk? “You’re lucky all the guards had left their posts otherwise we’d be in big trouble.”

Harry blinked. “Why did they leave their posts?”

“A prisoner broke out of his cell,” Natasha said. “He snuck into the Queen’s chamber and took her dagger. It was the same man they’d captured from the attack. Have you heard of what happened at the border? The Queen nearly died. She was so brave. And the King–”

“Is she all right?” Harry cut her off. “Did the prisoner—”

“She’s all right,” Natasha replied, squinting her eyes, probably wondering why he was so concerned about the Queen. Harry didn’t know the reason, either. “When I crossed the few guards at the west wing, I heard them say that they’d caught the man then he killed himself in the throne room. It was insane! But it couldn’t have been worse than the massacre last year. Have you heard of it?”

Harry worked his jaw for a response, not knowing what to think let alone say. But Natasha didn’t seem to want his opinion.

“I’m sorry I frightened you,” she said, her voice softened at once. “Where are you going?”

“I-I thought I heard something.”

“Oh.”

As her gaze lingered on his lips and her fingers clutched his, Harry knew what she was going to do. And yet, he was shocked when she tiptoed and pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly and then with more passion. Why was a maid kissing him? Had everything he’d thought he’d known about the ladies in court been wrong? It didn’t matter anymore. Because when she pulled back, her moist lips parted and her cheeks flushed, staring into his eyes, all he wanted was for her to do it again. He’d been locked up and tortured by Calanthe for almost a year, and for the last couple of days, lonely, heartbroken and disoriented, not knowing who he was and whom to rely on. He didn't need more reasons to want someone.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the first moment I saw you,” Natasha confessed.

Harry stared at her, then muttered, “Fuck this,” and drew her in by her waist. They couldn’t hang him for kissing a girl, right?

Stumbling through the nearest unlocked door they could find, he kissed her against it before she pushed him back until he tumbled into a chair, and she got onto his lap, straddling him. Just as she reached for his belt, the door flew open and their heads shot to it. Harry’s blood ran cold when the light washed over him.

“You don’t have to check on me every two sec—” Y/N’s mouth froze midsentence. She stood rigid in the doorway, gaping at Harry and Natasha, who leapt out of the chair and away from each other. Natasha frantically fixed her hair while Harry adjusted his clothes.

“Please tell me you didn’t do it on my bed,” Lance groaned. It was only then that Harry realized they were standing in the King’s chamber. With all the guards missing, they couldn’t tell which were the rooms they were not allowed to enter.

“Who are you?” Y/N snarled at Natasha. Harry supposed she must be very angry right now. He didn’t know about the rules in court, but there must be one that forbade kissing in the King’s bed-chamber.

“My-my name is...Natasha...Your Majesty.” Natasha hung her head as she curtsied clumsily. “I-I’m your new maid.”

Lance eyed the girl up and down, his face as cold as ice. “Get your things. You're leaving in the morning.”

“Your Majesty, please!” Natasha cried.

Harry didn’t think when he stepped forward and blurted, “It was my idea. Please...don’t dismiss her from court. She admires the Queen and she really wants to serve her.”

For the first time since Harry had met Y/N, he finally got to see the resentment in her eyes as she looked at him. She hadn’t even looked at him like that after he’d tried to kill her. Her bottom lip quivered and her face was red. Lance seemed as cool as ever, but something shifted in his expression as if he was counting down the seconds until the Queen burst into flame. Harry thought she might, but then she said, quietly, “Get out. Both of you.”

Harry was stiff whilst Natasha wasted no time to bolt as she was afraid they’d have her head on a plate if she stayed for too long. That was when Harry saw it. The Queen’s torn sleeve and the bandage around her right arm, dark red blood spreading through it. The prisoner had probably given it to her. Something told Harry it wasn’t the physical pain that he saw in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said. The words felt useless, sucked dry by the cold air as soon as they left his lips.

He bowed to the King and Queen and was just about to leave when Y/N stopped him. “We’ve arranged a room for you,” she said. There was no more warmth in her gaze. “You can stay there tonight instead of in the dungeon. There’ll be guards outside your door. Don’t cause any trouble and they’ll keep you safe.” Her stone-cold expression wavered him, and he wasn’t sure if he should thank her or apologise again. “When everything’s gone back to normal here in the North,” she added, “you’ll be free to leave.”

With that, she waved him out of the door. He walked backwards until he was in the corridor and the King shut the door in his face. For a reason he could not explain, he felt a new sensation throbbing in his chest.

Harry lay awake in his new bed until early hours, and when he finally fell asleep, he dreamed again. He’d returned to the corridor and nearly drowned this time before he made it through the door and stood high and dry on the same hill.

There was no Natasha to wake him up, so he followed a pink butterfly, chasing it down the hill until he reached a cliff. The icy wind suddenly changed direction and sailed over him, cooling his face and limbs. He started walking toward the cliff. His footsteps felt so light as if the wind was carrying him. A girl was standing with her back to him, her long white dress billowing, her hair floating in the air.

“Peach?” the word slipped out of his lips.

The girl turned around. Another wind churned up, fierce and mean. Y/N was only wearing her nightgown. Was she not cold? He hurried forward, reaching out his hand to grab her and pull her back before she lost her balance on the edge. But no matter how fast he ran, he couldn’t reach her.

“Peach! Stay right there! Do not move! I'm coming!” he heard himself calling.

“Harry, I’m cold,” she said softly, and somehow he could hear her from that long a distance.

“I’m coming for you!” His voice was broken, growing more desperate, fading into the howling of the wind. The pink sky had grown dark and the trees were rattling. Heavy snow and dry leaves whirled all around him, making it hard for him to locate her. He shielded his eyes with one arm and tried to walk against the wind.

“Harry, don’t come near me.”

“Peach, let me help you. I’ll keep you safe.”

“No,” she whispered. “You’ll only kill me.”

“Peach!” Harry screamed and jumped forward as Y/N spread her arms like a butterfly and let gravity pull her under. When his body hit the ground, it wasn’t grass, soil, or snow; it was a stone floor. He wasn't hurt, yet he was freezing. He put his arms around himself, shuddering as he rose to his knees then to his feet.

Moonlight allowed him to observe his surroundings. He was in the King’s bed-chamber once again. He and the Queen. She stood by the window, the moon illuminating a side of her face. She was wearing a broken smile.

“Peach, you’re safe,” he heard himself say.

Y/N didn’t speak.

And that was when he saw the knife-hilt on the left side of her chest. Blood was pouring out of the wound, and still, she was smiling. His ears began to ring as if a memory wanted to push to the surface.

Then his eyes peeled open and he jolted upright, gasping for air, wild eyes searching for the Queen, but he was alone and the glow of the fire reassured him that he wasn’t dreaming anymore. There was no time for rational thoughts. He jumped out of bed, still shaking from the cold even though the windows were shut and the fire hadn’t died out. He shoved his feet into his boots and staggered toward the door.

“You were right,” Y/N said, hugging her knees to her chest and rubbing her eyes as the smoke from the fireplace made them water.

Lance was sitting beside her, one leg stretched, the other bent. He was sharpening his knife and had been doing it for so long that it might just be sharp enough to cut metal. She assumed he was just doing it to keep himself awake; he wouldn’t fall asleep before her.

“About what?” he asked, the sound of metal sliding against metal stopped, and silence ensued.

She released a breath she’d been holding. “Harry.” It was hard to say his name now; she’d just remember what she’d seen earlier right in this room. “I don’t think he’ll ever come back. I think...even if we’ve found the lake and stopped the potion from killing him, he might not remember me.”

Lance hmmed and then said, “So are we still looking for the lake?”

She tore her eyes from the flame to meet his. “I don’t want him to die. I still want him to be cured, even if it means he’ll leave me then.”

Lance rubbed his hands over his face and pushed back his messy black hair. “Fuck,” he muttered, making her giggle.

“I know what you’re thinking," she said, then faked his deep voice, “This girl is so stupid, risking her life for someone who wouldn’t do the same for her.”

But Lance didn’t laugh. “No,” he whispered. “I would have done the same for Daliah.”

Things he wanted to say, but couldn’t, stirred behind his eyes, and her heart clattered. “Lance–”

A few urgent knocks sounded on the door, cutting her off. Y/N braced herself for more bad news as she picked up the shawl resting on the foot of her bed, wrapped it around herself. Lance trailed after her, already lifting his blade.

She pulled the door open and her eyes went round. “Harry?”

Harry’s shoulders sagged in relief the second he saw her. “You’re alive,” he panted, which only made her more confused.

Lance rolled his eyes. He told her that he’d wait and went back inside so she and Harry could talk. One of the two guards finally released Harry’s arm and said, “We’re so sorry to disturb you, Your Majesty. But he threatened to cut his own wrist if we didn’t take him to see you.”

Y/N flinched. “Was he carrying a weapon?”

The guards exchanged looks.

"Did you even check him?"

They shook their heads hesitantly.

Harry scoffed, “You really should find new guards. Sorry, gentlemen.”

One of the guards growled. Y/N narrowed her eyes at Harry and his mouth snapped shut. Then she asked the guards to let her speak to him alone.

“Let me guess,” she sighed, folding her arms over her chest. “You saw a rat in your room and you want to switch to a larger room? This isn’t an inn.”

“No, no, no,” he said quickly, “I just…” and sighed, “I just wanted to check on you.”

“Why?”

He worked his jaw, yet words didn’t come out. Something was wrong and he didn’t trust her enough to tell her. Why was he here then? Had he not messed with her head enough?

“H-How’s your arm?” he asked. She squinted her eyes. “I saw...um...I saw that you were hurt...earlier. You were bleeding.”

“Oh.” She swallowed dryly. “I’m fine. Thank you. Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“Next time wait until morning to talk to me if it’s not something important.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said and waved for the guards, but Harry quickly stopped her, “Actually!”

Her hand froze in the air, and she signalled for the guards to give her another moment. “Yes?”

Harry scratched the back of his head. “I also...I also want to apologise for earlier. I don’t know the rules here but I suppose I’ve broken plenty.”

She took some time to look at him, his face a sharp contrast of light and dark shadows. He was heartbreakingly handsome and...familiar. The strain in the air between them softened at last, even if only just a little.

“Well, you’ve been through a lot and...I guess you need time to get used to life in court,” she said, her heart stuttering in her chest. “Don’t worry. I will keep my promise and send you back home as soon as it’s safe to travel again.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said and smiled when she didn’t. “Should I still call you Peach? Or is it too weird now?”

Y/N felt a sinking weight in her chest and she didn’t ignore it this time. How many times had he fooled her into believing he still cared about her? How many times had he proven that she’d been wrong? She’d been chasing shadows within these walls. It was time to accept that they were nothing but illusions of the man he used to be, the man she’d lost.

“You should call me Your Majesty,” she said. “You’re right. It feels weird considering the situation we’re in.”

“Oh.” His gaze slipped from her and fell to the floor. Silence sank over them. The corridor felt too quiet.

“Goodnight,” she said.

“Goodnight,” he said. “Your Majesty.”

She waved for the guards and stepped back into her chamber. His shadow wavered underneath her door for another moment, and then vanished.

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