The Royalty (Prince Harry Fanfic #4)

Chapter Three

Eggsy greeted Harry at the door when he came back to the Kensington Palace apartment. Lucy waited in the kitchen, having never upon getting out of sweatpants that day. Usually with her days off, she would go explore London but that wasn't happening today. She hadn't been sure if she was supposed to take off her ring or not; she didn't know the protocol. As well as Lucy no longer had a job. Since the news broke of them dating for the past three years and them moving in together, it had been terrible at her work. Refugees didn't want to be constantly photographed so she quit and left them in privacy. She missed her days of working, since she tended to get bored.

Harry kissed her on the forehead and then worked his way around the kitchen island. "What did you so with your day?"

Lucy smiled at him. "Nothing."

He laughed. "I like those days."

Swallowing, Lucy smiled at him. "How about your day? How was the event?"

"Good, I assume, because I wasn't half paying attention." His cheeks turned pink. "I was more focused on other things."

"Ooh, like what?"

Harry blinked at Lucy.

"Oh, that." She held up her left hand. "I haven't lost the ring."

"A magical day, truly," he laughed. "No food?"

"There were too many people in the apartment today. I just needed time alone."

Harry stopped. "You're having second thoughts?"

Lucy stopped.

"Luce, I get it." There was yet a hint of happiness in his eyes. "Most girls would be jumping up and down because they're marrying their Prince Charming; in your case, you're actually marrying Prince Charming. But, you're not most girls. You never have been."

Sighing, she agreed. "Um... I've been thinking."

"That's never good for me. What's up?" Harry grew serious. "I'm sorry, Luce, I can't. If you don't want to get married, just tell me, quickly. I-- I--"

"Don't be such a drama queen," she snapped. Lucy buried her face in her hands, rubbing her face. "Harry, I'm going to be royal when I marry you."

"Yeah?"

She looked up. "I don't want to be royal."

"Really? That's what's been concerning you? It's not that hard to be royal. I've been half-assing it my whole life." Harry reached out and took her hand. "Luce, really, I promise you have me. Only death will tear us apart."

She gave him a dirty look.

"That-- that came out wrong," he stated. "I'm sorry. I'm not dying any time soon. You're not dying any time soon. We have each other we'll be fine. I promise." Harry kissed her on the forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Harry turned around to the kitchen and immediately went to the refrigerator, rummaging through it. Since coming back from Minnesota, Harry had gone out of his way to start cooking. Though he liked having a chef, Harry liked being able to do whatever he liked. "And, Luce, don't worry about it," he said. "It's very rare you would have a personal title."

Suddenly, Lucy's death glare was on him. "What?" she spat.

He became still. "You just said that you didn't want to be royal."

Yet, her eyes stayed on him.

"Siobhan," Harry called, "please come in here."

Lucy's personal assistant came in, curtsying to the prince.

"Why don't you have a personal life?" Lucy asked her.

Siobhan gave no response.

"Siobhan, please explain to Lucy why she might not have a title when we marry," he said slowly.

A smile crossed her lips. "Well, ma'am, you're an American, thirteen years his junior with questionable religious habits. As it is well known in the past, a Catholic cannot be queen and anyone married to Catholic could be taken out of the running for reigning monarch."

"Even if there are people in front of him to be reigning monarch?" Lucy asked.

"Yes but that rule changed in twenty-fourteen," Siobhan answered. "Then if you were to be given a title, you would not hold equality to him, seeing that you don't come  from a royal family or from high statue in British society. With Prince Harry being a spare," she looked over to him and apologized, "there is a less likeliness that you would get a royal title. Harry would be given the royal title of Duke of York and you would then be wife of the Duke of York if unfortunately Prince Andrew was to die. That's highly unlikely."

Lucy thought she was finished but Siobhan managed to continue, "With you being less in society standards, to put in lightly, you would most likely be called Her Royal Highness Princess Henry or Princess Henry of Wales--"

"I wouldn't even get a name?"

"Most likely not," Siobhan stated, "but you would be a princess. Many people find this sexist and perhaps they wouldn't like to do that to Prince Harry's wife. Your children will also be princesses and princes because of Prince Charles for parentage. They will be known as princesses and princes but their children would not be known as such.

"At this present time, Prince Harry would continue to hold the title of Prince of Wales, and you would not be known as Princess Lucille of Wales but perhaps Princess Henry of Wales."

Anger continued to grow within Lucy.

"Thank you, Siobhan," Harry said, holding his lips together so that he didn't laugh.

She left the kitchen.

"See," Harry stated, "don't worry about being royal. It may not happen." He turned his back and started going through the refrigerator again.

Lucy sighed and then stopped for a second. "There is a wedding planner coming over tonight."

"I'm aware," Harry said, "and I think there a few wedding planners coming over. They're going to battle it out to who gets to do our wedding."

"I guess eloping is out of the question."

"You'd be right." Harry must have found something edible because he pulled it out and turned on the stove, ready to make it. "Granny wants it by the end of the year."

"I was thinking autumn. I like the colors and it'll match your hair," she joked.

Harry nodded. "It's for the best." He turned back to the stove. "Now, what do you think I can create with this?" He held up something green.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I don't know," he responded, "but if we don't like it, I'm sure Eggsy will."