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The thing with Madison is that she got attached to people too easily. She liked to believe everyone had good in them and let them in quickly. Sometimes she was right, sometimes people were good and genuine and honest, like Kim and Grace, sometimes people were authentic and were there for her, just like she would for them. But too many times, she was left disappointed. Sometimes people were good, but thoughtless or weak or dishonest. Sometimes people were just cruel, twisted and revengeful. She had met too many people like that in her life not to be wounded, it had been years but still, she had trust issues, still she was anxious and insecure in so many ways. And with her new role as future princess, it only worsened. She had filtered a lot of friends out, people she thought were sincere but were only interested in her new status.

She had been played by people she trusted, she was backstabbed and hurt by friends, by an ex-lover. She was manipulated and made out to be a fool because she was just so, so naïve. And Mady knew she was gullible, she knew not everyone was good but she just couldn't help but always give them the benefit of the doubt. Because everyone deserved that.

But doubt was not something she had in her mind as she looked down at the picture. She did not fear a misunderstanding when she unlocked Harry's desk drawer, her fiancé forgetting that she knew all his codes and passwords, and looked through every single polaroid. Madison wished she could feel pain or anger, even confusion, but all she could sense was emptiness. Complete numbness, her mind was blank, her heart was beating with no purpose, her guts felt static. Just empty.



DAY 10

Harry woke up to a cold bed. Mady wasn't with him, but he knew she was somewhere in the castle with Lindsey, already starting the day. A flicker of guilt pinched his heart thinking of how hard she worked while he was spending most of his time sleeping. He blamed the jetlag, but Harry knew he was being useless. He wanted Madison to have the wedding of her dreams, he just wanted her to be happy and he didn't have a single clue about how to plan these things, he didn't want to do more damage than good. Except for the food, that he had a say in, it was probably the only thing he could take care of.

He laughed at how ridiculous he felt, leaving his bed with a yawn to get cleaned up. Another long day awaited them and Harry had to be ready and awake to face Lindsey, plus he had a meeting with his father regarding the anonymous letter then another cocktail was planned for King Rupert. The monarch had arrived yesterday and today was Kim's baby shower, which was going to be celebrated in the gardens. At least he didn't have to plan that.

His first stop was in the kitchen were he talked a bit with Selley while grabbing a cup of coffee. He was glad the cook was back working in the castle, and knowing Selley was his biological father only made the love he had for him grow. It had been years, but Harry was still getting used to it. Now he could see the resemblance, though Harry looked more like Anita, but they always got along so well and now he understood why. And heck, he had a sister, an actual sibling that grew up with him, Emma, while all this time he thought he was an only child. She'd always been a model to him, she was older and always the wiser. She was Selley's first child before he met Anita, but Harry and Emma clicked from the moment she had laid eyes on him sleeping in his baby basket. They never needed a family link to act like brother and sister, but knowing they were related only solidified their bond. Now she was a mother of three and one of the best lawyers in the country, and Harry just couldn't wait for her to come back home for his wedding.

With a beaming smile and a warm cup of coffee in hand, he entered the ballroom where he knew he'd find Lindsey. "Good Morning, your majesty." She bowed her head before focusing back on her tablet. Harry looked around at the beautiful decorations, not oblivious to Mady's absence. Lindsey probably sent her off to do some errands. 

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