Captive. (ls)

25. Slave

"Are you sure you're ready, Lou?"

I smacked my lips together and nodded curtly towards the driver who opened the car door.

Both Harry and I were dressed to the hilt, with me in a proper Prince uniform of red, laced with gold detailing and a few honorary medals, while Harry was clad in a black suit similar to mine, thanks to my father.

The King had sent a driver in a black SUV to our home, and now we were parked in front of the palace doors and safely behind the closed gates that blocked out the public.

I stepped out of the vehicle, the soft click of my shining boots echoing against the pavement, "Not at all, Harry, but if I want the privilege to undress your body tonight like you promised, I'll gladly push through."

My hand outstretched in Harry's direction as a gentle guide to help him out of the car, noticing how his cheeks were painted a soft red and his quartz coloured lips twitched into a knowing smile.

"Only you would dare to mutter those words in the presence of the royal palace," he shook his head.

Harry's mossy eyes crinkled fondly, his dark lashes scrunched together in amusement when he stepped out to join me by my side. I reached my arms around his waist and pulled his bum towards my front, smirking at the little gasp that pulled from his mouth, "You seem to forget that you're in the presence of the Prince."

Harry's eyes quickly darted up to meet mine before his teeth gently sunk down into his bottom lip, "Oh shut up, you fucker."

The boy pressed to my chest giggled quietly, and I laughed at his response while leading him towards the large front doors that were held open by a guard.

"It's royal highness, to you," I chirped briefly with a smack to his bum, laughing at how his body jerked and he squeaked.

"Louis."

My head snapped upwards at the call of my name, and my eyes landed on a man slowly walking towards me.

He wasn't tall nor short, and he was soft around the edges as if he had just a smidge bit too much to eat over the years. His hair was receding so that his creased forehead was becoming bigger than need be, and his faded grey-blue eyes were dark behind a tired, worn face. He wore a black suit, adorned with many medals, and his entire aura was impeccable. It wasn't difficult to figure out who it was.

I nodded my head in greeting while Harry shyly stayed behind me, his large hands shyly resting on the middle of my back.

"Hello, father," I hummed, watching as the man's eyes fell from me to Harry.

"Is this the slave boy?"

I could feel Harry's body tense behind me, so I turned to face him with a comforting smile, my hand gracing his waist to bring him into full view for my father.

Harry shyly stepped up beside me, his shoulders relaxed and his head tilted up confidently after we shared a trusting gaze, "My name is Harry, your majesty," he spoke, bending to bow in front of the king.

I had to hold back the urge to force him upright but quickly realized that I hadn't actually shown him how to act in front of royalty. Unfortunately, my father easily picked up on the mishap.

A loud chuckle fell from his lips but it was laced with disgust instead of warmth, "Bowing is for women, boy. Do you know nothing? Louis, why would you choose this slave out of all the others?"

My heart hammered in my chest, "I've forgotten to teach him how to act in the presence of royalty, father. It's my fault, not Harry's," I quickly defended.