Red & White

nine.

Prince Harry didn't sleep well that night.

The feeling of lips tasting of raspberry was bright in his mind, keeping him tossing and turning for hours on end. He hated it. Having Poppy sleep under the same roof as he was difficult enough, but her invading his dreams was crossing the line.

Half the time during the dreams that acted like rolls of film, playing over and over, Harry didn't know what was going on. So when suddenly Leah popped up in the distance, he was mortified. Not because she was there along with the Carmichael girl. No, he was shaken because of the confusion his disembodied self experienced.

The mortification then gruesomely twisted into a petrified nightmare.

The scene wasn't fully taken into account when he noticed that Leah was far away from him, and at first he thought maybe she would save him from Poppy. But two men stole that possibility from him. Their armor and official uniforms gave it away that they were soldiers.

They were his soldiers. And they were approaching, from behind, the clueless girl staring blankly at him.

Harry jostled forward, but Poppy was in his way. She stuck her hands out to his chest to halt the prince's abrupt movement. She carried on, trying to lapse their lips together again, but his attention was fixed on the peasant.

His soldiers harshly snatched at the girl's arms, tugging her this way and that way. She was utterly shocked in the hold, thrashing around in protest. Why are they doing this? They're my soldiers!

Harry then remembered that he can make his soldiers do anything. He was their boss.

"Hey! Let her go!" He ordered with a barking clip to his tone. They didn't even raise their heads at his demand. He wondered if they could hear him. Why was he even worried about Leah? This was only a dream.

Harry continued to tussle behind Poppy's guard in his dream. He stared on in horror as Leah desperately glanced up at him through her lashes, eyes growing weak and tired from fighting against the strength and experienced soldiers.

He couldn't wrap his head around why this was happening. It angered him to tremendous distances.

"Stop fucking touching her! Release her right now!" Prince Harry growled, refusing to give up. She was pleading for his assistance, not being able to squirm away herself. Poppy began to suck at the base of his neck, pushing him even further away. He wished to simply pick her up and toss her to the side. But he knew he couldn't.

The guards continued to drag Leah's tiresome body down the plush, deep red carpets. Hold on...this was the castle. She fought with as much force as she could muster, digging her shoe less heels into the floor and biting down on her lip.

"What are you doing! Get back here with her right fucking now!" Harry shouted in the nightmare, refusing Poppy and painfully watching as Leah became weaker and the men had an easier job of dragging her down the corridor.

And then, just like that, the three disappeared behind the corner. But not before Harry caught a short glimpse of a whimper and one tear cascading down Leah's cheek.

Then it was done.

He awoke, panting profusely and heavy coughs erupting from his chest. Sweat was seeping through his damp curls and along the hairline of his forehead. The room was pitch black and he was so thankful to not witness Leah, the soldiers, and Poppy before him.

Harry threw back the duvet just as the bedroom door opened with a click and one of his nighttime guards peeked his head through.

"Your highness, are you alright? I overheard motion," he explained his interruption and Harry's blood turned cold when he met his gaze. He was one of the soldiers that took away Leah for whatever reason.