The Manuscript

Unveiling the Veiled

I walk around the palace on this summer night in England, I can feel the oppressive heat clinging to my skin. The air is heavy and still, making it difficult to find relief. Determined to cool off, I venture towards the gardens, hoping for a gentle breeze. As I stroll through the moonlit pathways, I can still hear the distant sound of the staff still bustling about, their footsteps echoing through the night. The palace seems to come alive under the starry sky, even in the late hours. Lost in my thoughts, I wander through the gardens, the moonlight casting shadows on the winding pathways. As I meander, my mind drifts to memories of the day, contemplating the twists and turns of life.

I notice a faint glow emanating from the balcony above. Curiosity piques, I look up and see Harry, appearing deep in thought, with a dim light casting a gentle glow around him.

As I make my way back inside the palace, my heart flutters with anticipation. The corridors are still bustling, and I weave in and out of the staff, heading towards the balcony where I spotted Harry. A smile tugs at my lips as I approach, taking in the sight of his tall figure standing against the majestic pillars. With a gentle push, I open the glass doors and step out onto the balcony, closing them behind me. Closing the gap between us, I wrap my arms around his waist, feeling the warmth of his presence against my cheek. Inhaling deeply, I take in his comforting scent, cherishing the feeling of being close to him at this moment. He nonchalantly continues to drink his whiskey, speaking softly as he greets me, "Hey, sweetheart."

"Hi," I breathe out, unwrapping my arms from him, and allowing him to turn and face me.

He offers me a small smile and leans against the balcony pillars, "Why are you still up at this hour?"

"I could ask you the same thing," I respond, taking the glass from his hand and taking a sip of it, "Stout," I raise a brow. I don't know why I thought it would be anything but.

Harry nods his head, "Your father stresses me out."

"Mhm," I hum, "Want to tell me how smoking cigars with my father went this evening?"

Harry lifts his shoulders into a shrug, "Nothing to tell."

I raise a curious brow and cock my head to the side, "Really?"

"Really," Harry nods his head, "Curiosity killed the cat, Anna."

"But satisfaction brought it back," I respond with a smile. Harry rolls his eyes and turns back to face the gardens, taking a sip of his drink.

Harry is a vault of secrets, impervious to the allure of gossip. Like water off a duck's back, he lets rumours and innuendos slide away, maintaining an unwavering commitment to discretion and integrity.

His steadfast refusal to share even a whisper of the secrets he holds becomes a source of frustration for me. I long to plunge into the abyss of clandestine knowledge he possesses, yet he remains resolute, guarding the mysteries with a silent resolve that only deepens my desire to uncover what lies within.

"I did inform him I don't want to see Syras raising his voice at you ever again."

As I step beside him, a mischievous glint sparkles in my eyes. I playfully nudge Harry's side and flash him a sly smile, teasingly demanding his attention. "Hey, Mr. Whiskey Connoisseur, I think someone needs to give me some attention here," I say, my voice filled with playful mischief. I lean in closer, whispering, "Or maybe I'll just have to find another way to distract you."

Harry chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, you're quite the troublemaker, aren't you?" he responds, his voice laced with playful banter. He takes a moment to savour the playful tension between us before leaning in, his lips brushing against my ear. "Well, I must admit, I'm easily distracted by your ways," he whispers, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. I smile as he kisses my neck softly, his hands pulling me closer at the hips. "I have to leave in a few minutes," he whispers with a sigh exhaling from his lips.