Cold Hands Warm Heart (A Vampire Fan Fiction) - Harry Styles

Chapter 4• All That Matters

Carolina's POV

"Attend to me now," I began, my voice sharp enough to cut through the idle chatter. "Henceforth, you are to meet the whole of my kin, and when I say whole, I mean every blood relation from the youngest to the most esteemed. Do you understand?" I punctuated my words by striking a slender cane against the mahogany table. The sharp crack of the wood brought the five young men to rigid attention, their spines straightening as they gave a curt, unified nod.

I was tasked with teaching them the proper decorum for an audience with my family. Harry, of course, had met my parents and a few distant cousins, but he had yet to stand before the entire assemblage. "Harry, you know well enough that when I am serious, my words are to be taken as law—what are you doing?" My gaze fell upon a sheet of paper he was scribbling on, his head bowed.

He hastily covered the page with his large hand, his movements defensive. I cleared my throat, a sound of disapproval. "Very well. If you are so determined to hide it from me, then you may continue with your scribblings later. Now, you must listen to me. My grandmother is not ignorant of what has transpired between us. She knows of the broken engagement, and she knows the reason. Keep that in mind, if you please." I let my frustration bleed into a hiss, a sudden show of temper I instantly regretted.

They stared at me in disbelief, no doubt unused to such an outburst. I was a different person in this moment, a persona I had only just discovered myself. "My apologies, gentlemen. That was uncalled for," I said, my voice softening as I pleaded with them. "But if you would, pray, grant me your full attention."

Harry discreetly folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket, and a small measure of my annoyance subsided.

"Good. Now, we shall move on. Queen Adelaide, my grandmother, is a very sweet and gentle soul. However, should you do something she dislikes, you will have to face her without my shield. When I speak these words, they do not sound terrifying, I know, but I promise you, you will be struck with a profound fear." I gestured to them with the cane, and they nodded dutifully, a flicker of genuine apprehension in their eyes.

I sighed, setting the cane down and smoothing the folds of my skirt as I sat. I had not realized that instruction could be so taxing. Teaching five young men, whose minds seemed to wander with the slightest distraction, was a task of immense patience.

"Princess Carolina," a voice interrupted. One of the maids curtsied, her head bowed. "Your father has requested that I assist you today."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "And pray, do tell me why my father would feel it necessary for me to have a watcher?" I asked, my tone polite but firm.

"I may not speak of his reasons, Princess. My apologies," she replied, her eyes refusing to meet mine.

I sighed in defeat. It was evident my father no longer trusted Harry to be in my company without a chaperone. I glanced at the boys. They seemed to have shrunk, a look of discomfort on their faces. "Gentlemen, please, make yourselves at home. There is no need for such shyness. I assure you, I do not bite," I said with a lighthearted wink. They laughed, but Harry merely sent a sharp glare my way. He was jealous, of course. I thought it quite amusing; he had wronged me so profoundly, yet he still felt a sense of possession.

"Louis, cease playing with my buttons!" I heard Zayn exclaim, his voice filled with exasperation. I giggled at their boyish antics. Liam simply rolled his eyes, a familiar look of long-suffering in his gaze, while Niall laughed, his mouth full of a homemade tart from Aunt Colette's kitchen.

As my giggling subsided, I took a sip of my apple juice, a beverage Harry and I both favored. It struck me then, in that fleeting moment, how many small things we shared, and yet, how a chasm had grown between us. The time had come to address the larger matters at hand. "Harry," I said, my voice serious, "if you would come with me, please. Alone." I looked pointedly at the maid, who sighed in defeat before giving a curt nod.

~

I led him into my bedchamber. The familiarity of the room, with its scent of lavender and the soft light filtering through the lace curtains, struck me like a physical blow. A thousand memories flooded back, and my heart ached with a bittersweet nostalgia.

"What is it you wish to speak of, Princess Carolina?" he asked, his voice low and respectful. He still called me by my title, as my mother had instructed.

I walked to the window and looked out at the rolling green lawns. "Tell me, Harry," I began, my voice soft. "Have you ever met a woman of truly impeccable character? One whose soul is entirely without fault, and who is, by all accounts, not liable to sin?"

I heard the quiet shuffle of his feet as he moved closer. I felt the heat of his breath on the back of my neck and a pair of familiar arms encircle my waist. A shiver ran through me, a mix of yearning and apprehension. I missed this, the closeness of him, the simple comfort of his presence.

"I have never met a woman like that," he answered, his voice a husky whisper against my ear.