Brief Encounters

Timeline 1 (Part 9)

Concert Night

Harry and I got ready for the concert, dressed in our usual tuxedos. It was amusing, really, how much fuss the staff made adjusting every lapel, straightening every cuff. We wore these suits so often, you'd think we'd just step into them by now without the endless fixing. And yet, every event seemed to call for the same careful scrutiny, as if anyone would even notice a stray button on a black tux.

As Harry watched another aide smooth down my shoulder, he grinned, shaking his head. "You know, next time I go through all this with you, it'll be for your wedding," he said, with a glint of mischief.

I rolled my eyes. "You're not even dating anyone seriously at the moment, but somehow my wedding is the hot topic?"

"Just giving you a heads-up," he said with a wink. "One tux for all eternity doesn't cover a royal wedding, brother. You might actually have to put in some effort."

"Please," I said, laughing. "If that day ever comes, I'll let you hold me to it."

As the final touches were done, we were ready to head out, every crease smoothed, every cuff precisely in place. The walk to the door felt oddly long, each step heightening my nerves in a way I hadn't anticipated.

Harry nudged me as we approached the exit, a knowing smile on his face. "Relax," he murmured, as if he could read my mind.

I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. It was ridiculous, really—I've attended state dinners, international tours, even intense security briefings, and none of them had shaken my nerves quite like this.

Harry grinned, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "All this for a night at the theatre. Anyone would think it's the biggest event of your life."

I rolled my eyes.

We finally reached the black Rolls-Royce Spectre waiting outside, polished to a mirror shine. The driver opened the door, and I took a steadying breath before slipping into the seat, Harry following right after. The car doors closed with a satisfying click, sealing us into the quiet of the back seat. Inside, Patrick was already waiting. He cleared his throat and launched into a quick but thorough briefing for the evening.

"Tonight's turnout is expected to be around 3,901 guests," he began, flipping through his notes. "It's a full house. I've already coordinated with the theatre's management and spoken with the producer—everyone's aware of your presence, so staff are on standby, and additional guards are positioned at key points."

He paused, looking at both of us to ensure we understood. "I'll escort you directly to your seats as soon as we arrive."

Patrick continued, undeterred. "After the show, we've been given clearance for you to meet with Ms. de Waal backstage, but we'll have to monitor crowd movement to avoid drawing attention. Paparazzi have been particularly active around the venue tonight."

I nodded, taking it all in. 

The drive to the theatre was surprisingly quiet, even with Harry in the car. Normally, he'd be filling the silence with some joke or remark, but tonight, he seemed almost pensive. I could have asked what was keeping him so unusually quiet, maybe even thrown a playful jab his way. But honestly, I was too focused on the evening ahead to even try.

I kept my gaze fixed out the window, watching the city lights slip by, each one feeling like a small reminder of the public eyes that would be watching us tonight. Just beyond all the excitement and anticipation, there was a quiet hum of nerves that I couldn't quite shake.

A few minutes into the silence, Harry finally broke it. "You know, brother," he said, leaning his head back, "I get why you're doing this. But I still didn't think I'd ever see you going all out for someone." He shot me a sidelong glance, a knowing smile on his face.