Lover of Mine | h.s. |

38

Harry Styles

"You're out of your mind." The king says as soon as I shut his office doors. "You're out of your god damn mind showing up back here! Do you have any idea what kind of damage you're doing?"

"Damage?" I turn around, my brows raising ever so slightly. "What exactly am I damaging here, Your Majesty?"

"My daughter." His voice is full of poison, each word laced with the power to kill. "She was finally starting to become herself again."

"Are you kidding me!?" I walk up to his desk, trying to keep the rage flowing through me at bay. Don't step down to his level. Yelling will only make things worse.

"She was going to get married soon! Start a family. Potentially even take over the country, at least when I saw the time fit. She had plans, Harry, plans that don't involve you. That won't involve you. She was finally getting her life back together."

"Jesus Christ." I throw my head back to look at the ceiling, my eyes rolling. The way that this man thought that things were going to go the way he planned truly baffled me. "You've gone fucking delusional, haven't you?"

"Watch how you speak to your king, boy." The king threatens, meeting my gaze once I put my head in its proper place again. "You have no idea what you've stepped into. What a mess you've caused."

"You call what I did a mess?" I question, stepping even closer to his desk. On the other side of the desk, the king makes a wise decision and takes a step backwards. "Have you even looked around your house? Looked at your family? The situation you made by sending me away? The same situation that you yet continue to add to thinking that it'll have a better outcome when you're really only digging yourself a bigger grave?"

"I'm doing what's right for my family, son. That's something you'll never understand." He looks to his side, peering out the window at the illuminated city before. "Not with your case. The dead mom, the adoptive parents, the death of that little girl who got 'trapped' in that house fire."

It feels like a punch to the stomach when he says those last words, my anger dissipating for one quick moment.

"Shut up." I murmur, the outer rims of my vision turning red. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"I don't?" The king turns back to me, a smug smile on his face as he clearly sees the wound I've been trying to heal for years slice open. "Let's be honest here, Harry. You can plead victim all you like but it'll never cover up the fact that you left her in that fire."

"I said, shut up." I say again, my nails biting into my palms as my hands become fists.

"You left her there on purpose. You let go of her and didn't turn back to save her until it was too late." The king leans across his desk, his arms spread wide as his hands rest on either side of his desk. "You had no remorse for what had happened until the cops showed up. Only then did you realize that you needed to look like you actually cared to fool the authorities. Fool your parents."

It doesn't dawn on me that the king knows all this information. It should though, all the things he's saying were personal feelings and events that happened before the authorities even got to the scene.

Of course it was displayed all over the newspaper when it happened, it was hard not to talk about the prime minister's house going up in flames, along with his daughter.

But it was always told through my father's point of view. Not mine. Not Diana's. He made up so much shit to make me look horrible.

And now considering how close he was to the king, it was without a doubt that he would share the information he had against me with his best friend.