The Manuscript

Prelude to the Seine

Harry's pov

I swivel in my chair in the security chambers, watching as Oliver monitors the cameras. The palace is relatively boring when everyone's off doing their own thing. The king is hiding out in his office, requesting nobody bother him, and the Queen is out shopping, at least, that is what the Queen wants us to think. I know better, she's at an underground bar drinking in a disguise— she is seemingly having a rough time. As for Anna, she's somewhere in France on a royal duty, ignoring me entirely. Anna hasn't spoken to me much since she told me not to come on the small tour, I opted to respect her wishes and stayed at the Palace where it is calm. A little too calm.

My phone rings and I bring it to my ear, "This is your hundredth call, do you miss me?"

Niall chuckles on the other end, "Oh, so dearly," he jokes, "I only have a few minutes before I'm thrown back into the media propaganda your girlfriend signed me up for but I think you should fly out here."

"Why?" I ask.

"They're giving her hell."

"She doesn't want me there," I shake my head despite the fact he cannot see me. If Anna wanted me to attend France with her, she'd have told me. Instead, she bitterly told me not to attend and that she'd prefer to go without me. I'm respecting her demands. Her wish will always be my command, even if it's out of pettiness.

Niall sighs, "This trip is tearing her down and she's too stubborn to admit it. It's pretty rough out here."

"That doesn't sound like something I need to be a part of then."

Anna, stubborn? Never.

This woman is going to give me a run for my money.

"Mate," Niall begins, "Get on a plane and come here. You love her and she needs you. Whether she admits it or not, she's having a hard time."

"I'll think about it." I dismiss the conversation and Niall sighs before bidding me a goodbye and hanging up.

I sit and stare at the monitors, my phone in my hands as I take a breath. There's a fine line when it comes to Anna. She doesn't like to be coddled too much, and she doesn't like to admit when she can't handle what's on her plate. I have purposely stayed away from any news articles or social media where I can see what's happening on her small France visit as a solo Royal. I can't save her from everything and she is not the type of woman to want to be saved every fleeting moment something horrific happens. She is strong and unwavering, a force of reckoning that nature can't break down— Anastasia doesn't need me to rule a monarch or continue on with her legacy, she doesn't need me to be her saving grace— she is her own saving grace and her own destiny. She may want me, but she doesn't need me, she can stand on her own two feet with her head high.

Despite everything, here I am, staring at plane tickets. They're ridiculously expensive at the last minute. I'm not even sure if I can make it to the boarding gate in an hour. And to top it off, I'll have nothing but the clothes on my back.

But as I grumble about the inconvenience, a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. The things I'll do for this woman. I truly do love her, even if I don't say it, and I don't tell her I'll marry her, I'll lay my life down for her if it meant she never has to feel an ounce of pain again. I'll do anything within my power to make sure she's happy and safe.

I heavily sigh and stand to my feet, "Ryan's in charge of you," I look towards Oliver, gesturing towards Ryan. "Call me if there are any issues," I mutter, wasting no time walking to the door and exiting into the cool tunnels.

I hurry my way through the palace, passing the staff who seem to be busy redecorating the palace for what feels like the hundredth time. The decorations and seasons are never ending. I stop in my tracks when I see the King emerging from his office with books in his hands. He raises a brow as he glances at me, "What has you hurrying out?"