Glory in Our Defiance • Zarry

15. - Behold My Oath

Binham, May 1485

Their journey to Binham began in the early morning. The sun was barely up when woke up and got ready for the long ride to the coast. Despite the worry and anxiety, they were excited and smiles couldn't leave their lips even as Brother Fidelis scowled at them and grumbled about their youthful foolishness. Nevertheless, the fed them breakfast and gave them a blessing as they were hopping onto their horses.

All of it was terribly dangerous. As they were passing towns and villages, they had their ears poised for any whispers about a search party looking for either of them. But thankfully, not one person realized they were in the presence of the future English Kings. Harry and Zayn just looked like two rich nobles travelling through the country. No royal banners, no crowns or royal crests. No red or white roses. They were just two young men, nothing more nothing less.

They arrive in Binham in early evening when the sun is still up but glows a soft orange that tells you sunset will begin within an hour. The sea isn't visible from here but the air has a faint smell of it.

Harry breathes in the air for the first time in two years. It hits him instantly with the familiarity, with the happiest memories of his childhood. He always loved coming here. There wasn't his mother with her talks of Harry seizing the throne. The wasn't Lord Wawrick with his subpar strategies and cruel words. Harry wasn't the prince his family wanted him to be in this place. He was just a boy, studying and laughing and playing pranks on the monks. While running in the halls of this monastery, he almost dared to hope for a simple life with no war. Now, he at least has the chance to give that to his children.

The path that leads to the abbey first turns down to the tall church and then winds down to the living quarters and other buildings. Harry hops off his horse in front of the double winged door he has entered so many times. He raises his fist to knock, a sudden rush of anxiety washing over him. His hand shakes a bit as he takes a deep breath, trying to muster up the courage to take the final step toward his happiness that could potentially lead to his demise.

"Are you scared?" Zayn asks, suddenly standing next to Harry.

"A bit," Harry answers, lowering his arm and turning to Zayn. "Who wouldn't be? I could get my head chopped off by your mother. Or both of us. We could be signing our death penalty."

"Do not worry, my love," Zayn says and kisses Harry shortly. "I would never let anything happen to you. My mother will never even lay a finger on you. I will knock, alright? And you talk. Us against the world, love."

Harry just nods and then watches as Zayn knocks on the door loudly a few times. He hopes the brother will hear. They must be nearby because the church seemed quiet and empty.

The worry still hasn't left Harry but Zayn wrapping his arm around Harry's waist helps a little. He leans into him and they wait. This is it. What else is there to do?

After some moments of waiting that stretched out like an infinity, the door opens. A young monk appears in the small crack and Harry recognizes his as Brother Bonaverture. The familiar face eases Harry's breathing.

"Good evening, Brother," Harry says. "It is good to see you again."

Brother Bonaverture's eyebrows furrow. "Prince Harry? Is that you?"

"Yes," Harry says with a small smile. "May I ask to speak with Abbot Dominic?"

Brother Bonaverture turns around, the fait sound of footsteps behind him. The door then opens widers and Abbot Dominic appears then. He is an old man with a bald head and a long white beard that hides his everlasting smile. His black robes always have a lining of dust or mud on the bottom hem because he can't stay away from his rose bushes and apple orchard, even despite his age.