THE CONMAN AND THE MAID // Harry Styles

The Prophecy

Warning: murder, gore, violence.

Next chapter: June 10, 2020.

For Patreon: June 5, 2020.

There are 2 chapters left before the sequel.

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When Harry woke up, Kenny was gone.

Last night she'd told him she'd had nowhere else to go, so if she wasn't here with him, she must be on her way to the palace for an audience with the Queen.

Kenny, of all people, had betrayed him.

His whole world flipped as he blindly reached for his sword and headed straight to the stable. If he took Lightning and left now he might be able to catch up with her. He didn't know what to say or what to do, but if he must, he would lie to convince her to change her mind.

When he got there, however, he wasn't alone.

The closest he'd ever been to a monarch was at Edgar's dinner party ten years ago, and he'd only watched the King of Theros and the King and Queen of Isolde from afar. Today, the new Queen of Theros was sitting on her white horse in front of his family's crooked stable. His steps faltered and he stopped, arms raised above his head when the guards stepped toward him.

Her Majesty lifted her palm, ordering them to stay back. One guard came to assist her off her mount while Harry stood there second-guessing what they would do to him.

Calanthe appeared smaller on the ground. She waved her servant away and took off toward Harry, her hands resting against her flat stomach, her head held high despite the weight of the crown.

Harry had heard plenty about Calanthe's unmatchable beauty and grace, and even though she was indeed exceptionally attractive, at this very moment, she looked like a normal girl, who was just about his age and had been forced to put on a heavy dress and a crown and rule a kingdom.

He bent the knees as she stopped in front of him.

"Rise," she commanded.

He did but kept his eyes on his feet. He felt her moving closer. She lifted his chin with two fingers and placed her hand on a side of his face. His first instinct was to glance at her guards.

"They won't harm you unless I tell them to," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You are as handsome as I imagined, Harry."

Harry met her eyes and immediately dropped his gaze. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

The Queen caressed his cheek with her thumb; her touch might be tender but it felt dangerous, and he didn't know what to expect. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"Look me in the eye as we speak."

He hesitantly lifted his face. She flashed him a beam which was oddly reassuring. Calanthe had a delicate heart-shaped face with a thin nose, pouty lips, long lashes and spotless skin. She looked like what a Queen should look like. And in a brief second, Harry pictured his Reyna in her place. Without the dirty ragged clothes and messy untied hair, his Reyna would look like this. His Reyna would look untouchable. His Reyna would be untouchable.

She wouldn't be his Reyna anymore. She would be a queen.

"Are you surprised to see me here?" Calanthe asked without answering her previous question.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Harry said airily.

She gave him a sly smile. "I have my spies, you know? I've let your princess go, did you really think I wouldn't come for you?"