insatiable | H.S series, part I
eveningepiphany’s 1k special <3
summary: harry is a prince, natalia is a spy for his court. both of them can’t stand one another, but natalia having to take any direct information she learns about the attempt on his life directly to him seems to put the pair in an interesting dynamic.
SERIES warnings: darker topics, murder, death, cults, alcohol, smut, violence, royal au! harry, fem!oc, fantasy and swearing.
a/n: this is something I’ve wanted to write for a long time now. I love reading fantasy, and I think it would be fun to kind of test the waters in writing a proper series myself.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
A part of me wishes it was nothing like this.
That I didn’t live in a world where everyone was out to deceive you.
But that’s exactly what you get in Carthion. I’d say it’s all you ever get, but maybe that’s just my outlook on it.
Especially when you consider I’m no better than the rest of them.
You see, when you grow up with parents who did the worst things just to get by, you’re conditioned to it. The expectation that everyone is out to get you.
And of course, the things they did weren’t just steal some bread and fruit from the night market to get a feed, or maybe pickpocket a passerby or two bad. The kind of stuff that would have you killed if it was unearthed.
But how I grew up is realistically how I got here.
I’ve been a spy— which is really just a justified way of saying I’m a deceitful murderer— “professionally” for only three years now.
But I’d been really doing it since I was 13. Sounds young, I know. It was young.
The thing was, I was small, smaller than my dad. I could squeeze into little places, move faster, quieter.
And who would suspect a 13 year old to be the one who’d shot a gang leader in an alleyway.
Not a soul apparently.
My father accompanied me on these little “missions” for the first, maybe, forty times? Until little by little he stopped.
He’d just tell me quietly what I needed to do in the dark of our small kitchen. And I’d be off.
Previously, my mother did a similar business. But she broke her leg on an outing when I was around 9. It left her much less physically able then she used to be, leaving her to stay home with me and my elder brother, Theodore. Making small knit items and pottery to sell at the markets— while dad was out.
I’d often catch myself falling into a daydream of where I’d be if I didn’t have the upbringing that I did. If I’d be a married woman yet, or maybe a guard for one of the royal courts if I had the same amount of drive.
But all of that is rather a waste of time, i reason with myself often. I’m busy enough as it is. And it’s about to get a whole lot more hectic.
I’m not conditioned to walk in heeled shoes. Nor am I proper enough to be in the dress that’s currently hugging my frame.
But when business with Royals arises, it’s what I can only assume is a must.
The guard, who bought me in is a few steps infront of me— awful move if I was an intruder— seems to know exactly where he’s taking me.
The corridors are lined with the families crest, large cream pillars with golden accents.
A single brick from this place is probably worth more than my life.
We’d been twisting and turning through the corridors until suddenly I’m greeted with large double doors, ones that would tower above any regularly sized one..
Another 2 burly men are positioned outside of them, gesturing a quick nod to whoever led me here.
A curt knock and a few beats of silence pass. I feel a little sick, I can’t lie.
A posh feminine voice sounds on the other side of the doors, undoubtedly Queen Annabelle herself.
“Come in!”
The doors get swung open, and I’m surprised to see that at first glance, this room is only a business or lounge room. It’s large enough to be a dining hall.
My gaze snaps back over to her as she begins to greet me, something I probably should’ve done first instead of marvelling at the room were standing in.
“Natalia, dear, hello.” My eyes switch between her and her unexpected guest, who— if this room weren’t so large— is tall enough he would’ve been the first thing I seen upon entering.
I’m positive it’s her son. The Prince.
Im unsure what exactly to say even though I practiced this in my head a million times.
I drop into a quick curtesy, “Hello, Your highness.”
I falter momentarily, hesitating to greet the Prince as well.
A extend my greeting to him, after a quiet intake of breath, “and to you too, Prince Harry.”
He has a scowl on his face, hardly giving me a me nod of his head.
I’ve only ever worked with people of a medium prestige. And only ever to silently cover up their dirty work. But I’m hardly surprised to see his distaste towards me.
If I am a minor disgust to the higher class, to the royals like Prince Harry, I must be the equivalent of skum on freshly polished shoes.
“Please, come sit with us. We have much to discuss.” She strides across the room, flowing ivory dress complimenting the green rug that takes up a large chunk of the floor.
She takes to a chair at the head of the table, it’s like a mock-throne, green fabric and deep wooden accents around its frame and arms.
The Prince reluctantly seats in the chair first to her right.
Despite the fact I’ve been allowed in this room, I feel terribly out of place.
I carefully take the chair thats two down from the queen, folding my hands neatly atop the rich wooden table which has a map in the centre of it.
I almost let out a sigh of gratefulness as Queen Annabelle begins talking, and isn’t expecting me to begin.
“Alright. You know the parameters in which you are here in, yes?” She raises her sharp brows.
“I do, for the most part. From the letters I’d received. I’m aware of what business you want me for.”
The Prince scoffs at the word business, and the Queen shoots him a glare.
“There are obviously some details left out. We need to smooth those out, before you can make your pledges.”
I nod, but sense that she’s not done talking.
“You acknowledge that this is going ahead yes? All that is left to do is get it in motion.”
“I do. I have a few questions regarding this job, but they can be covered at a later time if you’d like.” I try to keep my tone steady, formal.
I’m satisfied in her reaction to my words. She wasn’t expecting me to be so put together.
I had worked hard when I was younger to achieve this. My intellect is a strong point— and it makes me appear less rough around the edges.
It’s also that of a weapon, one you can carry everywhere with you, undetected. And it’s just as dangerous as the blade of a dagger.
“Of course. As of now, I’d like to discuss the raw details.”
She gestures towards her son, “My son, here, is a key part of this job. I believe in your letters you were ran down on an attempted assassination within our family. Since it’s now certain you’ll be taking the job, and you’ll be working closely with the both of us, I figure you should know he was the target.”
He’s frowning still as a lock eyes with him. And I connected those dots the second I realised he was in the room.
I have never met him. But from the great vine I’d heard mixed opinions on his person.
“Aside from myself and our head of counsel, he will be whom you take any learned information to.”
She lets out a sigh, “I would like him to be excluded from this process, however, it was made clear it wouldn’t go ahead without his involvement.”
I ponder a moment on how he is allowed a choice in the matter, seeing she’s the Queen and all.
She looks to me for agreement, “Understood.”
“Perfect. Im aware we have little information on who has committed this crime. That is why you’re here. I fear that they will come back and finish what they started.” I steal a glance at the prince again, who looks relatively unbothered considering we’re discussing the details of his near death experience, “I expect you to prevent this from happening.”
High expectations come with exhausting hours of work. But I nod anyways.
“My head of counsel, Tyrone will also need to receive a pledge from you and then he will run you down on the smaller details I have no business in. But other than that, your work will begin after our pledges.”
A lot of damn pledges, too.
This was the worst part of working with people of such a title, the expectance of you to lay yourself down for them, to swear your life and loyalty to them. A pledge knows no time, and can only be withdrawn by the one it’s given too. So the more pledges, the more you’re shackled to. To outright break a pledge would send you straight to exile— so it’s rare to hear of it. It’s like a fucking cult out there, in the barren of the north where the exiles call home.
She prattles on over some more details, that I take as much mental note on as possible, before standing from her chair, “Harry, will you please leave the room while she makes her pledge to me.”
I thank the stars for the this shred of dignity shes allowing me, but i catch the shock on Prince Harry’s face at his removal.
“But—“ he begins and she silences him, “Out.”
He sighs outwardly, sending another glower my way as he walks out the door.
I awkwardly rise from my chair, nerves bubbling through me, trying to prepare myself on what to say.
Theres no script, its all dependent on the situation, so you must say the right things and leave no room for misconception in your words. Mistake and gaps can easily be used against you.
It’s dodgy absolutely, but a risk that must be taken for this business.
“Natalia, is this your first time making a pledge?” She asks from where she stands a few feet away from me.
“No.” It was my third, but she doesn’t need to know that.
It’s not many, especially since in what I do, some people rack them up like it’s a competition.
“Have you been let go of all your previous pledges?”
“Yes.” I nod, which was almost true, all but one.
A risky game I’m playing, lying already, but no risk no reward I suppose is what they say.
Answering no raises to many questions on her end that I hardly feel mentally prepared to answer.
I take initiative to kneel at her feet, ready for her go ahead.
“Very well.”
“Queen Annabelle the fifth, I kneel below you as I vow to uphold my loyalty to you, for as long as it may be needed. I am aware that your life must come before mine at all times, and that I’m never to withhold information that could be of detriment to you or your family.”
I draw in a breath, “All information that I learn in my time working under you will be taken to those of your request, and nothing will be kept to myself that could endanger anybody in your circle. Outside of those im working with, all that I find out is kept to myself. Gossip is for the lowly courts, and I do not wish to start it.”
I pray that ive covered the basis, and begin to close off the pledge, “My name is Natalia Atalanta Finley, and I pledge myself to you, Queen Annabelle the fifth.”
A shudder passes through me as my middle name breaches the tip of my tongue.
This is how the pledges are set in stone. Your second name is to be kept close to your heart; it can be easily used against you. Hence why business using them is unfavourable.
I had held her eye contact, and watched as she nodded. Her face was netrual, not showing whether she was pleased or not.
“Thank you. I will send Harry in for you now.” She sounded calm. Of course she was. Considering she wasn’t the one now down a point.
I only can nod.
Carefully standing, despite the fact I’m going to be kneeling again in a few moments, I brush my hands down the waist of my satin dress.
She heads out the doors, I strain to hear a few muffled whispers that are presumably exchanged between her and her son. Then the door is opening again.
I fight the urge to look away. I am not about to appear shy, or like I am now certainly below them. He strides in, and I finally get a good look at him in the full.
He’s in a black kind of overcoat, and a smooth white blouse-like shirt. The tattoos on his collarbones, which im not sure what they are yet, visible through the material.
I make note of his black trousers and my eyes make their way back to the hair on his head. Its mid length, unruly and curly is the best way to describe it.
He looks smug, yet somehow still inconvenienced by my presence, “kneel, wont you?”
These are the first words he’s said to me directly, and I already want to jam my elbow into his stomach. Terrific.
I take a few steps towards him, and slowly sink back down onto my knees, feet tucked under myself as I hold eye contact with him.
“Your highness,” I begin, but theres an unmistakable edge to my voice.
“Sound like you mean it at least.” He hums.
With a passive aggressive clear of my throat I start again, “Your highness,”
“This y’first time making a pledge?” He quirks a brow almost assuming.
“No.” You frown.
“No need to get your back up.” He laughs briefly, but it’s laced with an audacious tone, one lacking in kindness.
“Continue on, then.”
His gaze is back to burning into me as I pretty much recite what I said to his mother only minutes ago, sticking to the same promises as to not get any misconstrusions on their behalf.
The golden hour light is seeping through the cream coloured curtains that line the windows, it’s casting a glow on his sculpted face. I begin to close off my pledge to him, but he interrupts.
“Remind me again who is in charge of you?” He knows there’s hardly any need for this, considering im on my knees basically promising him my obedience, but he’s doing it to just get a rise out of me.
Which all though he doesn’t get it verbally, he can see the disdain on my face.
“You, Prince Harry.” I say, carefully.
“And you will not do anything without my go ahead first, correct?”
“Within reason, yes.” My job is too impulsive to say yes to that and it not backfire on me.
“Within reason? Elaborate, will you.”
“I must make impulsive decisions. I cannot promise you will always be debriefed on them when its an in-the-moment choice, or if you are possibly a few hundred miles away.”
His gaze narrows, “Within reason it shall be then.”
I close it off, earning a small raise of his eyebrows as he hears my full name.
“Good girl. You may rise.” He says it with a smirk, and with an air of power of me, which of course he now feels he has after my pledge.
“Do not call me that.” I state, pulling at any shred of dignity I have left as I stand up.
“What else would you prefer then?” It’s asked, however it’s clear to me he doesn’t care.
“My name.” I scoff.
“Alright then, Natalia.” He rolls his eyes.
He stares at me a moment, looking ready to leave,“I will see you, unfortunately, tomorrow then.”
I shoot him an unkind look, but keep my lips sealed.
“Anything else to say, sugar?” He teases, a cruel smirk on his face.
“Natalia.” I correct, “No, there is not.”
I decide to be the one to exit the room, uncaring if that is rude. I’ve already sworn him my life, and despite him acting like I’m of no use to him, I know I am— more then he’s leading on anyway.
I open the doors myself, and the guards are quick to check on the prince.
“Are you ok, Sir?” One of them tentatively asked, like as if I’ve hurt him.
“Just fine.” He brushes them off, eyes trailing me as I walk down the hallway despite no sense of where I’m going.
One of the guards hurries behind me,
“Ma’am, where are you going?”
He reaches my side and I glance to him, “Take me to the head of counsel, please.”
I figure I get the last pledge out of the way, and any other debriefing so I can just get out of here for tonight. Worry about it all later, in the earlier hours of tomorrow morning when I have to wake up.
The guard nods, and takes the lead while I try to memorise the twists and turns were making around the palace.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Tyrone is a fucking asshole.
If I had thought Prince Harry was rude or demeaning, I was in for a shock.
He hardly greeted me as I’d came into what I can only assume is his office. It was dark and unwelcoming, the wood was stained to the colour of black coffee, and nothing about it was homely.
He’d had me making this pledge for what felt like an hour. Running over detail upon detail.
Harshly demanding for more information, more promising.
By the time I’d closed it off— which at the rate we were going I thought was never going to happen— he made me stay for another hour going over what he wanted me to do, so I could start first thing tomorrow morning.
He basically gave me the caseload and then kicked me out.
I was mentally muddled as I left his office, and the halls were now completely dark aside from the warm casting of light from the candles, which sat in candelabras coming out of the walls.
I just wanted to go back to Mabel’s. Get this dress off and back into the confines of her cupboard and sleep.
However was almost caught off guard as someone was at the end of the hallway.
“Natalia.” I heard the deep voice regard me, walking up closer to me.
It surprised me in all honestly, I hadn’t seen them when I first walked out, “Yes?”
“I’m here to take you to your room.”
I was immediately confused.
“My room?”
“Yes. There’s a room made up for you in the western-wing of the palace.”
“I didn’t request a room.” I frown, and no one had told me I’d be staying here.
“All I know is Her Majesty had a room made up for you to stay in while you’re here. Allow me to lead you there.”
I nodded cautiously, but I knew what this was, it was to keep me under watch and control. It seems like a lovely customary gift in exchange for my work, but realistically it’s to stop me from interacting with anyone outside of the palace when I don’t need to.
I contemplate refusing to go, but figured that would just add unnecessary suspicion on my behalf.
I reluctantly followed the bulky man halfway across the palace, and everything started looking the same in the dark until we stopped outside a room. And i nodded a ‘thank you’ as I went through the again, abnormally tall doors.
The room itself was bigger than any whole house I’d ever lived in.
There was a large bed placed in the centre of it, perfectly made of course. And I noticed a closet on my left that took up majority of where the wall would’ve been.
There were a multitude of things hanging in there, ranging from gowns to things only someone like me would wear around here, like cargo pants and plain long sleeves.
The bedside antique lamps were on, casting an also warm glow to the space. The light to the bathroom was also turned on. And when I walked in there, the bath was run, with a set of silk pajamas folded on the large vanity.
It was too much. Wayyy too much for me.
Bribery at its finest.
Poor girl having to do the worst of the worst kind of business because it’s all she knows, suddenly spoiled with the kind of riches the royals had to offer.
I know just how far these kinds of people will go to earn your trust.
However, i still cave when it comes to the bath. I manage— with a slight struggle— to unzip the back of my dress and get fully undressed and into the bath.
It was perfectly warm, small petals floating atop the water.
I keep in the forefront of my mind just how well materialistic bribery like this work because god, it is nice. That’s the whole point.
I don’t know how long i stay in there, trying to soak off the grievances of the day.
But when I finally get out and slip the silky pyjamas on I’m too warm.
I pad out of the bathroom, and find myself at the balcony door.
The cooler air hits me as i step outside. I examine the surroundings. Part out of habit and other out of curiosity.
The ground is not that far away, a survivable jump at least. And if the railing would hold me up I definitely would be able to scale up onto the roof.
I’m mid-inspection when I hear another door open nearby, and my head whips to find the source of the noise.
I drop into a crouch keeping my eyes searching through the gaps in the wooden railing. My eyes fall on a room just across the small courtyard from me.
I spot the tall figure leaning against their own balcony and I realise with a sink of my heart that it was the Prince.
Why his quarters were so close to mine I could only guess. To keep tabs on me?
I stay deathly still as I watch his figure, it’s facing the direction of me, and from his angle he could probably only see the warm lamps and the light streaming out of the bathroom door.
A shake of his head, a spin of his heel and he’s returned into the confines of his own quarters.
I take a breath and am careful to keep my self low as I slip back into my room. Standing to my full height once inside and away from the window.
It is now that I need to fully accept he is going to be a terror to deal with.
I flick the bathroom and bedside lights off, and slide under the covers of the bed.
Head plagued with thoughts, I can’t help but wonder how the fuck I’ve gotten myself into this.
And how exactly it’s all going to pan out.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
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