Freed

Three

Harry's POV

"What does father have to speak to us about?" Ashley asks me, as we seat ourselves in my father's lounge. I roll my eyes at the way she refers to my father as her's nowadays. It's upsetting in a way that she would want someone like my father to have a relationship like that with her. The Lord understands just how quickly I'd trade my father over for a humbler, more compassionate man. I shrug my shoulders and fish out my phone from the front pocket of my dress pants.

Ashley huffs, and slouches into the couch. Lord knows why she even categorizes as a princess, because there is absolutely nothing about her mannerisms, or personality that should mirror a princess's.

"You were on the tv last night," Ashley says. "Not for good reasons obviously."

"It shouldn't concern you whether or not I'm on the news. It also shouldn't bother you whether it is for good, or bad. That's my business," I snap.

"Harry, you'll have to start being nicer to me. All I get from you since the day that bitch left are snide remarks, and rude comebacks." Ashley sighs dramatically. "We were so good that night. You and I really had something going." My head whips in her direction, my eyes wide with astonishment.

"You're dumb," I state matter-of-factly. "I was forced to converse with you that day. We became acquaintances and just because I could bear with you doesn't mean we had something going on. Open your eyes, and see the truth, Ashley, I don't find you interesting - as a woman, or a person. I've told you this a hundred times before, and I'll say this again, get the fuck out of my house and find someone who respects you and can keep you happy. Trust me when I say this, love is the best feeling in the world." The second I'm done with my rant, the lounge doors open and father walks in, with mother trailing behind him as always.

Immediately, Ashley shoots up from the couch, and goes over to greet them. I, on the other hand, remain seated and therefore, receive a sharp glare from my father. Shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly, I divert my focus to my phone.

"Harry, shut your phone because what I'm going to say next is quite important." Father says, his tone not at all deeming it a request. Making sure I'm adorning a bored expression, I make eye contact with father, who is now seated on the couch opposite me. He purses his lips, his gaze shifting between Ashley and myself.

"Can we hasten this up so that I can go back home?" I prompt, gesturing with my hand for him to begin.

"It has been three years since you and Ashley got married - "

"We are aware of facts, father. If you're going to tell us to throw some lame party marking our third anniversary, or some shit, I suggest you stop now." I interrupt, arching an eyebrow. Father clenches his jaw.

"No, that's not what I was getting at. Let me finish, Harry." I know that I'm testing his patience, because I can tell that he's trying his level best to keep his cool. "It has been three years, and yet you haven't delivered an heir for the throne yet."

"Oh, father." Ashley says, flicking her wrist. She glances down at her lap, biting her lower lip. I scoff, standing up.

"And nor will we in the future." I announce, ready to head out.

"Harry, sit down." Father points toward the couch, his expression full of warnings. However, I don't give a flying fuck anymore.

"No," I say. "If you wish, you may continue this conversation with her - " I look towards Ashley - "However, I'm leaving."

"Your mother and I wish for you to adopt a child." Father's words hit me like a bulldozer, and I stop - spinning around on my heels to face him.

"What?!" I exclaim, unsure if I've heard him correctly. "No way in hell - "

"Harry, we don't know if you've even been trying with Ashley, but what we do know is that she wants a child of her own, and the kingdom requires an heir. The sooner you start, the higher the chances of conceiving are, but trusting you is not something I like to do. For that reason, your mother and I have decided to make you adopt a baby boy."

"I-It goes against generations of teachings." I argue, groping onto the first thing that comes to mind. Father shakes his head, letting out a resigned sigh.

"Yeah, well, desperate times call for desperate measures. Your flight leaves tonight for Chicago, where I have already spoken to an adoption agency. They'll be awaiting your arrival. Just choose a goddamn baby, and bring him back." Ashley nods her head solemnly, soaking in all of father's words religiously.

"No, I will not ruin a child's life." I say sternly. Father stands up, and steps toward me until his chest and mine are mere inches away.

"I'm not giving you a choice, Harry. Pick a kid, or leave my kingdom." Father breathes into my face, his tone dangerously low. Shaking my head with disgust, I turn around and hastily exit. I can't believe he's going to make us do this. Not only do I not want to for my own selfish reasons, but I also don't want to sentence a kid to hell. Walking through this house is suffocating me, and it honestly feels like I can't get to the door fast enough. The minute I'm out in the open, I bend over, placing my hands on my knees and break down.

A sob escapes my lips, shaking my shoulders. I glance around, not wanting any of the guards to see me in this state, and reporting my unmanly - or so my father would think - actions to him. No one's around, but just in case I hastily move over towards a statue, and cower behind it. I lean against it, unable to support my weight any longer. Just the thought of having a child, and being forced to call him as my own is killing me. I don't want kids. Especially not with Ashley.

Once upon a time all that talk about happily ever afters didn't bother me, but now it does. I don't have a happily ever after anymore. I lost all hopes for it the day I grabbed her around the neck, and shoved her onto the floor. Just the thought of that day sends my heart into a panicked frenzy. Lord knows why I didn't help her up, or even wait around to check whether or not she was injured severely. Anger. My biggest enemy has once more won a war against me.

I grip the nape of my neck, and shove the fist of my other hand into my mouth. I don't know how much longer I can hold up without breaking down. I don't know how much longer I want to. Sobs erupt from my body as I hide behind this statue. I don't even know what I'm crying about anymore. Maybe it's the fact that I'm always forced to do things I don't want to, and the frustration caused by all of that is finally coming out - exploding like a hand grenade. It could also be the fact that I'm being forced into taking such a huge step in life without the one person I want to take that next step with.

"Harry." My father's voice breaks through the thoughts that have begun to consume me on a daily basis. I spin around, stifling a sob that was about to escape. My father cocks his head to the side, and narrows his eyes. It almost seems like he's trying to figure out what I'm doing, as if this behavior is abnormal. And then his hand flies out towards me, and before I can register anything, his fist makes contact with my cheekbone. I stumble backwards, taken aback by his sudden assault.

"That woman has turned you into a pussy, Harry." Father says, staring at me with disgust. "Man up, and if you really want to shed useless tears do it in your room, away from prying eyes." I clench my jaw, diverting my gaze towards the ground.

"Don't make me do it." I whisper, shaking my head.

"Do what?" Father's tone is borderline sarcastic because he knows exactly what I'm talking about.

"Adopt a kid I don't even want. A kid I won't even love," I murmur. "Please." I'll get down on my knees, and beg him if need be. Without saying another word to me, father turns around and heads back inside. Why do I even try?