The Throne (Prince Harry fanfic #6)

Chapter Twelve

The drive from the hospital to Buckingham Palace took forever in Harry's mind, as the world moved slowly around him. Like before, faces buzzed past the windows as more and more people came out for the day. It was yet morning, with the sun yet to reach its peak. Though the heat of London already began to rise. People crowded and the streets were congested. Sitting back in his seat, he wouldn't let anyone see him.

Buckingham Palace rose in front of the car, sprawling out in white rock. The black gates opened just for the one car, with security pushing pedestrians back. The heavy gates locked behind the car. Soon enough the automobile was out of sight as it pulled to the back. The car stopped.

Sunshine beat down on him with every movement of Harry's body. His clothes were too heavy and too tight. He began to sweat. His shoes squeaked too loudly. Unable to catch his breath, Harry stopped before reaching the door to Buckingham. He took a moment to collect his thoughts and then went inside.

A footman had been sent to retrieve Harry, even when his older brother waited at the top of the stairs. His blue eyes watched carefully but he kept up all acts. William turned and went inside the chamber, with Harry and the footman behind. Once inside, food and drink had been brought up for them, in an act of kindness. But silence soon followed. The footman closed the door, leaving it to just the brothers.

"What happened?" William asked immediately. "I thought last night, you were supposed to-- you two were supposed to.... It obviously didn't end like that if I received a call this morning about Lucy being found unconscious."

"We had a fight--"

The King of England stopped him there. "Harry, what did you do?"

His eyelashes fluttered. His brother thought the worst or him and so did Lucy's bodyguard. But he didn't do anything. "I would never," Harry said; "I would never hurt Lucy. I didn't-- we argued but we didn't--"

"Harry, I need to know."

"William, I didn't--"

"Is there anything I need to clean up?"

"Clean up? You mean cover up, of course!"

The King continued to watch his younger brother.

"No, of course not. I wouldn't hurt Lucy. I've never hurt Lucy, not like that at least. We-- no. There wasn't that kind of anything!"

"Tell me what happened."

"It didn't go to plan, obviously," the younger brother stated. "But, it really didn't go to plan, and she said she wanted a divorce. And then she left."

"You didn't follow her?"

That was the second time Harry had been asked that question. He hoped that he went but he didn't. He stayed there. What was Harry supposed to say to Lucy right there and then? His marriage was over. "No," he answered.

"Did she make any calls or anything? Did she tell anyone?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"We'll check."

"What, Wills? What?" Confusion was written across Harry's face. "Why do you have to check? Why does it matter?"

"Well if she told anyone about the divorce, we need to know."

"Why?" Harry asked the question but the answer popped into his head. "In case she dies?"

"It's for the best, Harry."

"If she dies!"

"No, I didn't mean that, of course. Don't twist my words. I'm simply stating that if she does to die, we could make it a sad moment and there wouldn't be much public backlash. If she dies and people know about the divorce, it would reflect badly on the monarchy." William watched warily. "I'm doing this for you, Harry."

"Well, she's going to be fine, so it won't matter."

"Do you know this for a fact? Is she up moving around and speaking?"

"No, but she'll be fine. It's Lucy. She's okay-- always."

William nodded. "And what about the divorce afterward? Was last night's argument just a passing glance or is this the end?"

Nothing came from Harry.

"We knew, Harry, that Lucy wasn't made for this kind of life. Perhaps it's time to accept it and let it go." William continued on without any protest from his younger brother, "She was always rebellious and cold. She never had that natural warmth or look that others, like Kate, gave off. She moved to her own beat, and that doesn't work in our kind of business. It's time to let it go-- let all of it go."

Harry shook his head. "Where are my kids?"

"Sleeping."

"I want to see them now."

"I said they are sleeping, Harry."

"I want to see them now!"

William sat down and took a cup of tea for himself. Ringing a bell, the footman entered and bowed to the King and Duke. "Show His Royal Highness to his children." The footman nodded and showed Harry to the door. The younger brother left without a glance back.

The footman was slow moving up the stairs and Harry was forced to walk beside him. He already knew where he was supposed to go. The kids slept in the same rooms every time they were at Buckingham Palace, which wasn't a lot until recently. They were meant to be at home, with their father and mother. They were meant to be with Lucy. Usually the only times they were at Buckingham was when both parents were traveling to do work, which happened from time to time. It was easier to be with other family and continue with school over just being alone.

Two large rooms sprawled out on either side of Harry, where the boys slept through the doors to the left and the girls slept through the doors on the right. The footman left Harry in peace and returned outside. The waiting room was aglow with light, which would've faded by midday with rains coming in.

Going to the right first, the door just barely opened. He wished not to wake his sleeping little girls. And they all slept peacefully, after putting their beds together. They laid on top of each other, holding each other dearly. Each clutched a stuffed animal as well, with the blankets pulled up to their necks. After a long glance, he backed out of the bedroom and went the opposite way.

The doors on the left were just as shut tightly. Slowly he opened them, but unlike his daughters, his sons were fully awake. They waited on their beds, talking quietly to each other. With the technology of the time and how quickly rumors spread about the royals, they already knew. He sat down on the younger son's bed, and the other son sat across. Freddie was good at being stoic, much like William, where Henry followed in Harry's footsteps.

"Is Mum going to be okay?" Freddie asked. He already knew without a doubt in his mind.

"I don't know-- they don't know yet. There are tests being run on her." Harry swallowed. "Hopefully."

"She isn't scared," Henry said, leaning against his father. "She's never scared."

Freddie nodded along.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "She's never scared."

"Are you scared, Dad?" Freddie asked with no fear in his eyes.

"I'm terrified," he admitted, "but she'll be fine, like always. She survives, always."

"Always?"

"Always."