Heir At Last

Chapter 2: The Prince No One Asked For

Diana's POV
The King is dead.

Long live the Queen.

Father was going out in style. A hundred horse drawn carriages transporting dignitaries from all over the world-or at least the parts that matter. What with the cause of death being a quick acting illness and being so young, he didn't exactly have a lot of time to prepare his funeral although royals are expected to do that in advance. But somehow, in the midst of desperate prayers and mounting fear, my father had managed to find a way to haunt us for as long as he possibly could.

My black dress is somber, if a little frigid. It expands all around me, the black material touching as much floor it could reach, forcing people to be aware of my movements and make way. There's a dark red lip stain covering my lips, so dark it almost matches my dress. A ploy to make me look older.

My mother's work no doubt. I loved her to death but god was the woman paranoid. Always on the look out for the next person who deems us vulnerable. I should probably get a better hold on my maids- make them stop taking orders from my mother. A part of my brain nags me. The more free time she has, the more trouble she'll cause me. Might as well make her head out to our country home. Some place that's truly hers and not the family's who accepted her begrudgingly. It would be good for her to be surrounded by people she's known her whole life. Then again, after being married off at fourteen is your family really yours anymore?

The funeral drags on. A great deal of fanfare for a man who loved to make a scene. Some crying from people who wanted favour from the new ruler. Guess they were a bit out of touch with the family dynamics inside the castle.

I sit in a corner, sipping wine and trying not to make my disinterest obvious.

' My condolences your majesty. Losing a parent is a tragedy no child should have to face.'

I turn around to get a look at the person who seems to be so out of the loop. He's goodlooking. There's no escaping that. His shiny chocolate locks put mine to shame. His green eyes too pretty to be real. He really has a face that could get a girl into trouble.

'I'm sure being in charge this young is nerve racking.' I shake off thoughts about his voice resembling silk and focus on the words coming out of his mouth.

He's kidding right? I have wanted this power for as long as I can remember. Who is he anyway? I see the crown on his head so he must be royalty. However he's being much too polite so I must outrank him. A prince then. European judging from his appearance.

'Who are you? I don't think I've seen you around before.'

'Oh I'm so sorry. How rude of me, I should have introduced myself sooner. I'm Harry, your father wrote me before his premature passing and invited me over for a visit.' He rocked back and forth as he waited for me to reply.

My mind raced through all the lectures about state matters I had been given over the last few months. None about a visit by a foreign prince comes to mind.

'Forgive me but my father seems to have forgotten to fill me in. What was the topic of your discussion?'

My question seems to have thrown him off. He shifts around his gaze not meeting mine. He seems reluctant to speak.

' I had assumed it was a discussion you had already had with your father,my queen. He spoke to me about forming an alliance. He wished for us to be married.'

Oh how I wish my father was still alive. Just so I could put him six foot under myself.

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