The Destitute Queen || h.s. au

92. Milena

I don't care that Louis is my brother. I don't care that my mother never told me about him. I don't care that he's not welcome in his family.

He has tortured me too many times, there are still burn marks on my palms that will most likely never be completely healed. I don't want to be cruel towards him, but I just can't trust him to be around me or my brothers. He didn't feel guilty about torturing me until he found out about us, so why should things change?

After sending him away, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I can't take any more surprises today, everything is weighing heavily on my heart. From learning that I have another brother, to finding out that Abigail is the one who tried to tear me and Harry apart. I look for something around the room to distract me while I wait for Harry to come back. I need to be with him right now, to have him by my side.

My eyes glance back down to the desk, where the torn pieces of sheet paper lay. The pieces are small, but I can make out music notes. Why did Harry tear music sheets apart?

Out of curiosity, I begin trying to put them back together. None of the pieces seem to fit, but I manage to complete the title, and my heart begins to ache.

     Milena's Song

Harry composed music for me. That's one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me. But, why did he shred the paper? I'll have to ask him when he returns.

I look at the glass door leading out to his balcony, and I faintly smile. Taking slow steps, I open the door and walk out onto it, admiring the view. I look down at the balcony of the maids' room, remembering the first time we saw each other. Well, not taking into account when we were children.

It feels strange, being on the other side of it. This is the view Harry had when he looked at me. I don't know what compelled him to look at me, to smile at me, to wave at me. There's nothing special about me, nearly everyone knows that. My hair is in frizzy tangles, my skin isn't clear, and my teeth aren't straight. The only thing I like about myself are my eyes. They're the same color as my mother's, and the only thing keeping me tied to her.

Harry acts as though I'm the most beautiful girl in the world, but that's far from the truth. I mean, has he even seen Prue? Or Belladonna? Or even Vivienne, for that matter?

I try to get her out of my thoughts as soon as her image flashes in my mind. It hurts to think that he's supposed to marry her in merely six days. Hopefully, if Harry is correct, Liam will abolish the law that requires Royals to marry other Royals once he's the King, and we can be together. Even if he can't, as soon as we tell them that I'm pregnant, we'll have to marry.

Well, I might be pregnant. There's still a possibility that I'm not. I wish there was a way to find out, but we'll have to wait a while. Some people have said that it may take weeks, and others have said it'll only take a few days. Maybe I'll speak to the medic today, so I can get a solid answer. It would be ideal if I could find out before the wedding.

I turn to the bookshelf, bored of the book I was reading, and chuckle when I notice the book of stories Harry first gave me, when he was teaching me how to read better. I pick it up and stride back to the bed, pulling the blanket over me and settling in. Flipping through the pages, I notice the forbidden love story, but I skip past it. I stop when I turn to the first page of that stupid goat story Harry seems to like so much. It's endearing, how childlike he can be sometimes.

I read this story to Ben once, the first night he was here. That was before he regained consciousness. Maybe I'll pay a visit to him today, I haven't seen him in a while and I'm sure he's worried, since I said I would visit him last night to help him out of bed, so we can run away. I haven't had time to see him since then, I hope he isn't too worried about me.