The Sword (Prince Harry fanfic #3)

Chapter Fourteen

Harry and Lucy talked every day, and it became a usual schedule. It was decided upon that Lucy would stay until November was over and then return to London. Harry had hoped for her to stay in her old town until the new year but Lucy wasn't in a compromising mood. During the day, Lucy would go out and about, sometimes spending time with Sydney. She tried her hardest to get her mind off other things while moving around; nothing helped. While with Sydney, this also gave Lucy a chance to help with some of the touches on museum. Closure slowly healed the heart of Lucy.

Unfortunately, it didn't last long.

It was the middle of November, coming close to the fourth Thursday of the month, when Harry called Lucy, but it was different this time for the both of them. Heaviness laid on Lucy's chest as she choked on air. Harry paced from inside his apartment in Kensington Palace. Both had unpleasant news to share.

Harry called Lucy during the middle of the day, out of the norm, and he breathed heavily into the phone. She almost thought about not picking up, but it was better to tell now then later.

"Hello," Lucy said, without much happiness. In the back of her mind, she wasn't fully aware how to tell him because she didn't know what to say herself.

"Luce, we need to talk," he demanded too quickly. This alarmed Lucy.

"Listen, Harry, I have to talk to you too."

"Luce, can I talk first? I promise it's important."

Lucy sat at her dinner table with papers in front of her. "Sure." She swallowed her words. "What's up?" Her voice shook, and Harry noticed. Perhaps he wished she already knew, since he didn't want to give the information but there was a lack of choice.

Taking a shaky breath, Harry spoke quickly, "The paparazzi know." The words exploded a little as he said them, coming out as a mumble. With no response from Lucy on the other side of the call, he said it again slower, "The paparazzi know, Luce, about us. They know about us dating. They know about you-- they know who you are."

Swallowing, she sat back in her chair. "How?" she asked. How did they find her? How did they find out who she was?

"There was a good picture of you. They found a good picture of us, and they connected the dots. It was all over the tabloids, your picture-- your face. But a name will be announced soon, no doubt, since--"

"Since they already know who I am," she finished, running a hand through her blonde hair. Lucy was known enough by the media, and she had been in the spotlight recently.

Harry and Lucy knew this day was coming, but she didn't expect today. William said they would have until the new year. That obviously wasn't happening. Harry probably hadn't been expecting either, which made this hard on him. However, this would effect Lucy the most when Harry had been dealing with this his whole life.

Lucy began again, "If they know who I am, when do you think it'll come out?"

"Tomorrow," Harry responded. "I expect tomorrow, it'll be everywhere, perhaps late tonight in the U.S."

"The media will come for me."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Luce, I think you should come back to the U.K. now. I know we talked about you coming back after the new year but I think you should come back now--"

"No."

"Luce, in the U.K., I can protect you. You'll have my bodyguards. You can stay at my apartment in Kensington Palace. There won't be any problems, I promise. We can do this together. You just have to back to the U.K.--"

"No."

"Luce--"

"No, Harry, stop. I can't come back to the U.K. right now."

"Everyone will know by tomorrow, Luce. Paparazzi will be after you. If you come back here, I can help you."

"Harry, you're not letting me talk. I can't come back to London. My grandfather died last night."

There was a pause on the end of the call as Harry took in this information. His grandfather died too. But with this, the last of Lucy's close family died. She had cousins, aunts and uncles, but her grandfather took in after the shooting. He raised her until she left. He was there for her for everything. Now, there was no one.

"How?" Harry asked, out of breath.

Her fingers looked at all the paperwork in front of her, all the things she had to do right now. Right now, she didn't want to deal with it. Since her grandfather had a successful business, she had all that paperwork. Now the business was in her name. Lucy had no idea how to run a business.

"He died in his sleep. I found him this morning," Lucy admitted. "The coroner thinks he had a heart attack, but the autopsy hasn't been done yet." He had only returned a week earlier to Minnesota, finally getting off of work.

"I'm sorry, Luce. I truly am sorry. I--"

"Harry, I have to stay in Minnesota to plan the funeral." She swallowed. "And I'm going to stay in Minnesota until after that, and Thanksgiving and Christmas. I'll stay here until after the new year."

"Luce, I don't think that's a good idea."

"I don't care, Harry."

He sighed, and she heard it. Lucy said nothing else but waited. "Lucy, please."

"No."

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

"Why do you have to ask the same questions over and over again and then expect a different answer?"

"Paparazzi will come after you."

"I'm betting on it." Lucy sighed. "Guess how much money my grandfather left me?"

"They read the will already?"

She laughed. "They wanted to do it sooner rather than later."

"How much?"

"Thirty million dollars," she said out of breath. Lucy couldn't believe it herself.

Harry choked on the other side of the phone. "Thirty million?"

"Yeah, apparently his business was more successful than any of us thought, and I was the only one he left money too."

"That must have pissed someone off."

Lucy agreed.

"Paparazzi have another thing to say about you."

"At least they won't call me a gold digger."

"Luce," Harry began, "I'm coming."

"What?"

"I'm coming to the U.S. I'm coming to you."