The Throne (Prince Harry fanfic #6)

Chapter Thirty-One

Harry had hoped that news would've been brought to him by the time all of his children woke in the morning. Whether the news was good or bad, at least it was news. There was something for Harry to say when his children asked where their mum was; she was either dead or alive. Now, she hung in limbo; was she dead or alive? If she was dead, where was her body? If she was alive, where was she?

Those thoughts halted when William and George showed up. George, almost twenty, and William, almost fifty-one, came in, and George looked more and more like his father every day, though there were hints of Catherine. Anger boiled in Harry when he saw his older brother, who wanted to yet protect him.

"Harry," was the only acknowledgement from the King, "we need to keep a level head about the situation."

"The situation?" asked Harry in disbelief. "The situation is that Lucy is missing, and I have five children upstairs."

"Harry, we must keep a level head for Lucy and the children."

He hated how William said his name now. It wasn't just being calm but it was demeaning. Harry felt like a child again. Shaking his head, Harry tried to keep his anger in check only so the remaining asleep children would remain asleep.

"There will be people coming in and out of the apartment all day," William said, "from different agencies. We need to give them information that we can. We need to give them are attention too."

"Wills, you don't understand. I watched the video and I don't know anything. She was attacked by... what, five males? That's all." Harry's caught the eyes of William, and he knew he was wrong. Nanny had come and taken Freddie upstairs. Siobhan, Simon and Robert watched from a side of the room; they knew something else too. "What?" he asked. "Do you know who took my wife?" This time, his voice bounced off the walls and echoed throughout the house.

Feet ran across the ground upstairs. Feet bounded down the stairs. Feet came to a screeching halt before his father and his uncle. Freddie peered up at them. "Uncle William, thank God you're here. Something can be done now. You're King. You can get the military and MI-5 and MI-6 and the US's CIA and FBI on this."

William gave Freddie a gracious grin. "I'll see what I can," he promised.

"Freddie," Harry called to his son, and Freddie immediately came over. He cowered quickly next to his father. "Wills, you know who took Lucy."

"Harry, I don't think this is appropriate to talk about in front of your son."

"He's staying," Harry snapped. If Freddie wanted to know what was going on, Harry wouldn't cut him out. "Who took Lucy?"

"Anti-monarchists?" Freddie wondered, and all eyes came down to him.

"How would you know a thing like that?" George asked.

Freddie didn't cower anymore. He grew strong under the gazes, much like his mum did. "It's obvious, isn't it? The anti-monarchists want to cause pain and they want to make us scared. If someone was going to kill her, she would be dead in the alleyway like Tony." His voice cracked at remembering the man he called a second father. Tony had always been there. "And we haven't gotten a call for money, so that's not what they're after. Anti-monarchists want to cause havoc; they'll keep her."

Harry dropped down beside his son. "Freddie, how do you know this?"

Shrugging, Freddie thought of his mum.

It was a thing to talk about for another time, and Harry knew it was something to do with Lucy. Turning back to William, Harry asked, "Is it the anti-monarchists? Did they do this?"

"Yes, but we don't know what faction."

"But you have something to go on?" Freddie asked. "You know it's a group so it gives you somewhere to look. MI-5 and MI-6 are looking, right? They're helping?"

William smiled down at his nephew. "Yes, and they'll be here later. Will you help them?"

Freddie wasn't an idiot and knew his uncle was being condescending. Giving the King a grin, Freddie bowed and walked away, leaving the room.

"He's much like his mum, isn't he?" William mused. Eyes coming to Harry, his shoulders were squared. "This is is a faction of the anti-monarchist group, and the leader has been brought in. Already he has an alibi but we'll keep him for safety," he sneered. "I'm sure he'll give up information quickly."

"The leader isn't mental enough to do this, William. These people are bloody crazy."

"Perhaps they brought up their ideas to the leader."

"He'll protect them."

"Harry, Lucy is a member of the royal family, and though I don't agree with Lucy a lot, she is part of the families. So there are ways that we can help find that are not as legal to everyone else."

"That's acceptable, William?" Harry asked, knowing Lucy would've hated what William implied. Lucy was part of the royal family, but she didn't see herself as better. If anyone did what William implied, Lucy wouldn't stop protesting it. It wouldn't matter if she survived, she would've came back from the grave to protest it. That wasn't living to her; it was just wrong.

"We will do what is necessary, Harry. I would think that you would agree. This is your wife after all."

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but bit it back when Freddie ran in. "Dad," he said, "Henry and Beatrice and Emma and Louise are awake."

Pausing again, Harry bit back a swear word that he truly wanted to release. It was time to face the music. "Freddie, come with me." The child complied and followed his father upstairs.

It was like the children felt it, and they all waited in their parents' bedroom. All sat on the bed and stared at the door as Harry entered with Freddie behind him. The door closed behind them. Freddie curled up with Beatrice and Louise leaning against him. It suddenly became very quiet with the room; no one breathed. Harry had to be brave, like Lucy would've been, like she undoubtedly was now. Harry was going to be brave.

Climbing onto the bed beside his children, Harry began.