The Secret Prince

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: 

“The greater your capacity to love, the greater your capacity to feel the pain” ~Jennifer Aniston

I stared at Harry while my brain processed what he just told me. He’s a prince? Yeah, right, and I’m the Queen of Sheba. And my father isn’t really a retired politician, he’s the Duke of Kent. And my mother is the Princess of Monaco too. It didn’t take long for me to burst out laughing from the “news” Harry told me.

“And I’m the Queen of Sheba , Harry. Nice to meet you. Now really, what’s the real reason as to why you have been acting strange?” I told him. I didn’t believe him one bit.

Harry sighed again, he seems to be doing that a lot today. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. Where is your computer?” I pointed to my room and Harry grabbed my hand and together we walked to my room. We both sat on my bed while Harry logged in and went to Google. He put his name into the search bar and almost instantly almost 150,000,000 items came up. Among the first three websites that came up first all said something like “It’s been four months now, where’s Prince Harry?!”.

Then there was the pictures that came up on the right side of my computer screen. All pictures were of Harry. My Harry. Is what he said true? Is my Harry really a prince?

Harry then proceeded to type into Google “Who is Prince Harry?” and this video documentary came up. This video was about twenty minutes long and obviously a part of some longer documentary; maybe one about his family? “I’m going to let you watch this, love. I’ll be in the kitchen making us dinner.” And with that he pressed play, kissed my forehead and walked out of my bedroom. 

I turned to my computer screen and saw the words “We know who our beloved Queen Helena and King George are. But what about their only son; Prince Harry?” After those white words appeared on the black screen, Harry was shown. They must have caught him when he was in the kitchen, obviously, because he was cooking. Someone spoke up, probably a cameraman, “Prince Harry, what are you doing in here? We have been looking for you all over the castle.” Harry sighed, that must be his favorite thing to do; sighing.

“I’m sorry Paul. I was just really hungry.” Harry explained while looking up once from cutting the tomato to give the camera that the man, Paul, was holding. Breathtaking as always.

You could hear Paul sigh from behind the camera, “Prince, you have servants and maids for that. Doesn’t your mother dislike when you don’t use the servants?” Harry looked up into the camera, “Well, yes, mother does dislike it when I do things on my own. But how will I learn to do things if I don’t learn hands on? What if I decide to not take my rightful throne and live as a commoner? I won’t know what to do; Doing things on my own helps me stay grounded.

"And I intend on staying like this. I don’t want to be like my cousin Rupert, Duke of Nottingham. He’s up to his head in the fame of being Royal. But what happens if suddenly we get overthrown? He wouldn’t know what to do, would he? Not at all.”

The cameraman followed Harry around the castle more throughout the day and finally they were able to get him to sit down for a Questions and Answer thing. The cameramen would ask him different things, ranging from his favorite color, green, and his favorite food, banoffee pie. Finally they asked him on what he wants in a wife. He stopped and thought for a little while, “I want someone who doesn’t want me for my titles or my money. Someone who loves me for me. Sure there are a lot of beautiful women here in the United Kingdom, but I am afraid that because everyone knows who I am, they will not love me for who I am. I don’t want to get used that way. I think I might actually go on a trip somewhere, who knows? Maybe I’ll fall in love with a girl from the country I am going to.”

“And what country is that? What are you going to do there?” A cameraman asked him.

To which Harry smiled and answered with his breathtaking smile, “Now that’s classified Paul, but I want to go to this classified country to learn the trade of bartending. I think that would be fun.”

With that answer, the screen showed a man and a woman who I assume are his parents before it cut out. I sat there on my bed staring at my reflection in the computer screen thinking about what I spent the past twenty minutes watching. Holy shit, Harry is really a prince.

I walked out of my room and into my livingroom/kitchen area where Harry was making dinner for the two of us. I walked up to him and just looked at him, watching him cook dinner. He had already made a salad and two drinks for us. It looks like he was working on something with ground chuck. It smelled delicious. He must have felt my presence after a while because he turned around and stared at me with curious eyes. I smiled at him, “So, you didn’t come here to find love? Just for bartending?”

Harry nodded, “Yes, I was supposed to only come here for a month. Finding you was a plus, and falling for you was even better.”

I smiled at his answer, “Well, then I guess I understand why you didn’t tell me who you are until now. You wanted to make sure I loved you for you, right? Well, I do. I don’t care about your titles or your money. At all.”

Harry smiled and pulled me in for a huge wonderful kiss. This kiss was different than the others, which are all similar in many different ways, but this one was completely different. It was rough, yet passionate and soft. Filled with lust, yet filled with love.

Just from this kiss, I could tell that this is the boy that I am going to marry. No matter what, I know I will.

“Melissa, would you go back home with me? I want you to meet my mother and father. I know they will love you.” Harry told me.

I thought about it for a minute or two before finally saying, “I will love to come home with you and meet your parents.”

London, here I come.