The ABC's of Loving You [ Tomarry

Kingdom

Kingdom;
a country, state, or territory ruled by a king or queen.

—

Tom and Harry are rulers of countries. They are also the victims of an arranged marriage, yet they somehow learn how to live.

We're all going to pretend every country is a monarchy because of artistic liberty

Brit!Harry, American!Tom

This is a medieval kingdom, but without the homophobia, racism or sexism. Also, if it's medieval technically America isn't a thing yet, but... go with it

This is really long but it's also very good:)

—

Harry felt himself get faint.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I must have misheard. Did you just say you're marrying me off to the next king of America?"

His mother looked to the ground. "We've been talking to the current king and queen and they believe it would be a good fit. We have been at each other's necks for too long, dear."

"And I don't get a say?" Harry whispered. He felt his head start to pound and his hands get clammy. He was barely twenty, and now he's marrying someone he had never met before? Not only that, but that prince is apparently so cruel, and so mean—

"We know it's a lot to take right now, but it's for the best," his thoughts were cut off by his father. "An allegiance right now would be the best for both countries—"

"And me?!" Harry cut him off, clutching his hands into fists. The guards at the door shifted, sensing that he was ready to run. "I've never met him before. Do I not get a choice?"

His parents sighed and made side-eyes with each other. "You have a choice." His father answered. "But if you decline, the Americans may declare war and, while we have just as much strength as them, there will be another World War."

"So you're telling me I could literally start World War III if I say no to marrying someone?"

"Yes. Sorry, dear."

"Sorry doesn't cut it," Harry grumbled, crossing his arms. "You know I have a guilt complex the size of Russia. If I started a World War I would never forgive myself."

His father raised an eyebrow. "A yes so fast?"

"It's a yes because you raised me to be a good person and I feel like I owe you. Trust me, I wouldn't agree otherwise."

—

"I'm sorry, I must have misheard. Did you just say you're marrying me off to the next king of the United Kingdom?"

"I know you're upset—"

"Like hell I'm upset!" Tom laughed. The guards flinched, they weren't used to him laughing. "Both America and the UK? My ego is having a blast right now."

"Son, it's not that simple—"

"No, I get it." Tom interrupted. "I have to marry someone I don't know from another country, but that country's powerful too and then that means that I get two powerful countries—"

"And so does your future husband," his father said, tapping his fingers against the arm of the throne. "Tom, you're going to need to learn how to share."

Tom scoffed. "Alright. Well, I'm going to my room."

His parents looked at each other for a moment before turning their attention back towards him. "He also agreed to marry you," his mother informed.