The Sword (Prince Harry fanfic #3)

Chapter Six

After the four course meal, Harry led Lucy on a little tour of Buckingham Palace. He had done this before, after she had gotten her award three years ago, but Lucy hadn't been back inside the walls since. Like all the years since Buckingham Palace had been constructed, not much of it had changed. Though, there had been some recent face lifts, which was much needed. Pictures, beautiful and old, had been added to the large collection, and he took her to see them.

Harry hadn't the chance to speak to her that night, and he took the time now. Soon, they would have to rejoin the rest of the family for tea. "Luce, tonight?"

Her eyes came over to him. "Tonight?" she hinted, wanting to know exactly what the question was.

"How has it been going?"

She smirked. "Do most girls run away?"

"Do you want to runaway?"

"I did at the beginning," Lucy admitted, "but I don't want to anymore."

Harry smiled. "They've grown on you?"

"They've grown on me."

"We're like a normal family?"

"Nope." Her eyes flipped over to him. "I just ate a four course meal, on a plate that costs more than my rent for five months. My fear was I would scratch it and then have to pay for it."

Harry stepped forward and whispered, "Did the questions make you feel uncomfortable?"

Lucy's eyes found the picture interesting then, and forced her gaze there. Huffing, her chest went in and out. The questions perhaps made her uncomfortable, but she expected them, even if Harry said they wouldn't bring it up. It was more that... there was pain in her chest, from Harry's family, how normal they somewhat seemed and how easily they were around each other. Lucy didn't have that, she couldn't have that. There was some jealousy within her. Then there was the pain from fear, as she was about to take off to U.S. for the first time in three years, and how she would return. What would she return to? What was she supposed to say to people who asked how she was or what she had been doing? She couldn't say I date Prince Harry, and she would appropriately say she was good but was that a lie?

"No, not uncomfortable."

"Your family?" he guessed, but already knew the answer.

"Yes, but...." She sighed and turned to him. "When I go back to the U.S., eyes are going to be on me. I'll have to say something. Either about my life since or how that asshole effected." Lucy refused to call it a tragedy, because you called it a tragedy if you didn't believe it was a real problem. It was a real problem, which people ignored. Let the words be said, what it should've been called: not a school shooting, perhaps a mass shooting but rather terrorism. "I can say whatever I like, Harry, but as soon as they find out that I came to Britain, like I escaped guns and my fear, they'll call me not American."

"You are American."

"I'm British."

Harry paused.

"I haven't been an American for a long time, not since my friends and my family got murdered and nothing changed."

Harry wished his own people would realize that. "Are you scared to go back?"

Lucy smirked. "The fear of getting shot?"

He shook his head no, but he realized what Lucy tried to do: deflect. "You're going to see a lot of your old life." He let that sink in and awaited Lucy to say something.

"Yes."

"Perhaps, Lucy, spending time in the U.S. is good. You still have citizenship there, and you have citizenship here. But maybe you should spend Christmas there. You should see your grandfather and your cousins. You should spend some time with the family you have."

She bit her bottom lip. "Harry, are you saying this because you think so or your family thinks so, or you want some time apart from me," his eyes became panicked, "or you think the media will be thrown off our trail? I don't... I don't know what you want. I don't know what you're saying."

"No, Lucy, no. I want... I want you. I love you." He didn't understand how those words made her panic; it made her trust him less. "I want you to see both sides of the pond."

Lucy rolled her eyes.

"Perhaps, media is one thing, so that we make it to next year without them knowing, but, too, so that you spend time with your family."

"Harry, why is this suddenly so important?" Lucy asked, because he hadn't mentioned it too much before.

"Because when the media finds out, they'll be coming for you and for your family. They'll want to know every little detail, and they'll end up knowing every little detail. It is best to have some private time before it all goes to hell."

Her eyes stayed on him, measuring, and he bit his lip. Lucy realized he hid something deeper, more personal, and it made her more scared. He wasn't telling her something, and she wished not to demand it but she wanted the truth. Perhaps she hadn't made a good impression on his family and Harry finally realized she wasn't cut out for his life. She wasn't going to be apart of it.

"Lucy, I love you, but spending time with your family is for the best."

"Why?"

Harry wished she would stop asking that, but she wouldn't. Lucy would keep going until she found her answers. She would dig and dig. Curiosity thrived in her, which was what her run and help people. She wanted to save the day, but she needed the facts.

"Luce, please trust me when I say I love you."

"I love you." Her words were a little too breathy.

"Do you trust me?"

"Your highness," a butler called. When Harry looked over, the butler bowed. "Tea has been served."

Harry nodded, and the butler bowed and walked away. Lucy smiled because that was incredibly weird to her. "Do you trust me, Luce?"

"Yes." She gripped his hand. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you keeping something from me?"

"Because it will happen either way, but I want to ask for backing."

"A new adventure?"

"With the same person, hopefully."

Lucy nodded, and then pulled him along, back to a sitting room for tea. Harry went along, running his thumb over the back of her hand, feeling her warm skin. There was a small scar, a ridge, unlike other scars on her body. This scar didn't come from the shooting but rather a time she cut her hand when cutting vegetables. He felt human when touching her, and he wanted to stay human. This was why he kept the secret, so that he may ask a blessing from the Queen. He had to do this by custom. If she loved him at all, she would accept. Then he would have to ask Lucy. If she loved him at all, she would accept. They would be married.