But Most of All

The Walking With the Wounded Charity Gala was an unprecedented success. The fundraising goal for the evening had been four million pounds, but thanks to overly generous (and slightly drunk) donors, a record breaking 11.7 million pounds had been raised. It was a proud moment for Harry. He’d taken it upon himself to organize the event. Everything from the venue to the invitations had been personally chosen by him. He even compiled the guest list, because according to him, not just anyone could be admitted. He wanted to make sure that the fundraising was a massive success. That was why he went after wealthy individuals who sought out Royal connections. He knew those people would donate generously in hopes of being spotted with him. They were the sort of people that would try to force a friendship just to secure an invitation to an exclusive event, and while Harry had absolutely no intention of befriending them, he nonetheless paid them the necessary compliments and flattered their vanity. He quite literally charmed millions out of their pockets, and they were so pleased to have been acknowledged by him that they didn’t really even miss the money.

And that right there was the reason why so many charities reached out to Harry in hopes of his being their patron. He was damn good at raising awareness, but even better at raising funds. Whatever charity he became a patron of, always experienced a significant increase in donations, and that was before he even campaigned for them. The simple fact that a charity was listed under his official website was enough to make people donate. He had that sort of sway with people and he enjoyed using his influence for the causes that he felt so dearly for, which was why when he left the event, he had such a great sense of accomplishment.

It was due to that feeling that Harry exited the venue with such a massive smile on his face. It was a smile that the paparazzi were quick to notice. They eagerly snapped shots of their smiling prince, but more important than those pictures, were the questions they had to ask him, because ever since Paulina formally announced her bid for the United States Senate, the tabloids had been desperately trying to obtain a comment from him. So far, they hadn’t any luck, but they pressed on regardless. All the tabloids were promising a huge payout for a quote on the subject, and that was why they all swarmed Harry when he walked into the open.

“Harry! Harry!” they cried out.

Knowing what was coming, Harry quickened his step.

“Hold on there, mate!” spoke a particularly brash young man. “No need to run off like that. Why not have yourself a bit of a stroll? We’re all mates here, we are.”

Fuck off. Just fuck off. Harry kept mentally repeating that as he walked.

“Well I suppose you’re not built for strolling about, not with those legs of yours. S’alright though, I’ll keep up with ya as best I can.” He cleared his throat. “So I take it the gala was a success. Ya wouldn’t have been smiling like that if it hadn’t been. So congrats on that, mate – truly! It’s a brilliant thing you’re doing for our brave lads and birds, and as much I’d love to have a chat over what’ll be done with the money raised, there’s something else I’d like to chat about.”

Harry was surprised the git was still talking. Usually by that point, they’d been pushed out of the way and some other wanker with a camera was in their place.

“And I reckon you won’t mind the topic,” the git in question continued. “In fact, I think you’ll be pleased by it. You see, it has to do with Paulina. Lovely lady she is. And if I’m to be honest, you’re a lucky bloke to have had her. Easy on the eyes, she was – a proper beauty! I swear whenever a new lads mag came out, I was always hoping you’d two had run off somewhere warm so I could have a look at that bum of hers in a swimsuit.”

He meant to remain unaffected, he really fucking did, but he didn’t like the way that git was talking and the thought of his disgusting little eyes staring at her bum, made his jaw clench. And unfortunately for him, that git noticed. He smirked in satisfaction when he saw he’d gotten a rise out of the prince, and he was determined to make him snap, because a quote on the election would’ve been fine, but Prince Harry publically snapping would bring in loads more money.

“No offense mate, but even with you being a prince and all, she was out of your league. I reckon she knew that though, that’s why she left. Isn’t it?” He paused, hoping that Harry would glare at him or take a swing. Neither happened. He’d have to do better. “I bet she realized you weren’t worth all the trouble. She’d have to have given up everything to be with you, and clearly, she deserved more.”

“That’s enough.” Alistair literally stepped in front of the git. “His Royal Highness is not taking any questions this evening. If you have inquiries regarding the gala, do feel free to contact his press secretary. Their information is available on his official website. Otherwise, we bid you goodnight.”

“Ya can’t do this!” complained the young man as he tried to get around Alistair.

“I’ve not done a thing, Sir.” Alistair’s face didn’t betray his annoyance. “Now if you will excuse me.”

He turned just in time to see Kamal close Harry’s door. He walked quickly to the vehicle, knowing very well that they had to put as much distance between Harry and that despicable git, as possible.

“That’s why she’s gone and made herself a Senator!” exclaimed the git as he ran towards the Range Rover. “She’d rather gamble on that than have been your princess!”

“Don’t pay him any mind, Sir.” Kamal spoke. He might’ve been in the driver’s seat, but he could see Harry’s expression in the rearview mirror. “He doesn’t bloody know what he’s talking about. He’s just running his mouth to get a rise out of you, but you can’t give him the satisfaction.”

Harry didn’t respond. He didn’t trust himself to, because if he opened his mouth, then his fists would unclench and if they unclenched, he would throw open the damn door and jump out of the Range Rover so he could beat the shit out of that fucking prick for talking about things that he didn’t fucking know about. If he talked, even to Kamal, he would lose the little restraint he had. So in light of that, he kept his mouth shut. He just sat there looking straight ahead. He had to stay focused. He had to keep looking at the sign across the way, because if he didn’t, then every smug bastard chasing a paycheck from the tabloids would use the same tactic as that git.

And even when they drove off, Harry didn’t speak. Not immediately, at least. He was silent for two blocks, unsettlingly so. Alistair looking back every few seconds out of fear that something was wrong, but Harry just sat there. It wasn’t until several minutes later that Harry finally lost it.

“Who in the bloody hell does he think he is?” he bellowed. His naturally pale skin took on a violent shade of red. “The way he kept going on about how I don’t deserve her! Who the hell is he to say whether or not I deserve her? That wanker doesn’t know what went on. He doesn’t have a fucking clue as to what happened, but yet he’s the nerve to say those damn things! And I’ll tell you why he did, he wanted to provoke me! That’s why that little shit went on about her bum the way he did. And just the thought of him having a wank over her was enough to make me want to have a go at him, and he knew it, that’s why he kept going on like that. He figured if he took a punch, he’d be set for the rest of his miserable life, but I’ll tell you what – I’d rather be a vicar than be the reason why that git has food on his table. He’ll starve before he gets so much as a look from me. He’ll fucking starve!”

Harry went on at great length about all the misfortunes he hoped would befall that particular paparazzo. He wasn’t usually the sort that wished ill on others, that never felt right to him, but that bastard had crossed the line, even by paparazzi standards. It was one thing to hound him for a comment about his feelings regarding her running for office, but it was a different thing entirely to tell him that he hadn’t deserved her and that she knew she was better than him. That was by all means, a dick move. It was the sort of thing that could easily ruin an evening, no matter how brilliant it’d been beforehand, and that was exactly what it did.

The moment Harry returned to Clarence House, he got into the liquor cabinet. Now that he was in his thirties, he drank significantly less than he had in his twenties. There was, of course, the occasional night of overindulgence, but those weren’t as often as they’d once been. He was far more sensible about alcohol, only having a drink or two, but after that nasty run in, two glasses of scotch weren’t enough to make things right. So he had a third . . . a fourth . . . a fifth . . . until he’d suddenly finished off the decanter.

Needless to say, when he woke the next morning he was ill humored. It’d been months since he drank to excess, not since Jake’s birthday, but there he was, uncomfortably stretched out on the couch with an empty whiskey glass near his face. He lay there awhile, debating whether or not his getting up was truly necessary. If he got up, he could have a shower and afterwards crawl under the covers in his bed, but as lovely as that sounded, he really didn’t want to walk up two flights of stairs to get to his bedroom. What was the point in doing that? He’d only feel worse than he already did. That’s why he was so tempted to spend the rest of the day lying on that couch, but then Alistair walked in.

“I see you’re awake, Sir.” Alfred noted upon his arrival.

“Not for long,” said Harry. “I fully intend to go back to sleep, so go do whatever it is you do while I sleep.”

“While I do understand your desire to rest, I must remind you that you are not at liberty to do so at present.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’ve the WellChild event.”

“No . . .” Harry groaned.

“Afraid so,” replied Alistair. “Although it’s not meant to begin until noon, which should be plenty of time to get things in order.” He waited for Harry to stand up or at least acknowledge what he’d said, but there was nothing. “I took the liberty of asking the cook to start breakfast for you. I’ll take it up myself when it’s ready, although at your current speed, I’m quite certain it will be cold before you’re even dressed.”

“If it you keeps you from badgering me, I’ll bloody well get up.” Harry swung his legs over the side of the couch and slowly stood. “See? I’m up! Are you happy now?”

“Quite so, Sir,” was Alistair’s response. “Now if you will excuse me, I’ll go keep an eye on breakfast.”

“Before you go, do you know if Miriam’s here yet?”

“She is,” replied Alistair. “Miss Hewitt arrived shortly before I came up here. She’s in the kitchen at present, reviewing the speech you’re to give.”

“Right then.” Harry ran a hand through his unkempt hair. “I suppose I’ll be on my way then. And thank you, Alistair.”

The good thing about the WellChild event was that the press presence was minimal. There were only a few photographers and journalists permitted inside, and they were all from respectable news outlets. They were there to cover the event and they stayed on topic, none of them even so much as alluded to Paulina, and for that Harry was grateful. Ever since she announced her bid for the Senate, she was all anyone wanted to talk to him about and he was tired of it. He’d worked hard to get on with his life since she turned him down.

Had it been easy? No.

Had he been entirely successful? Of course not.

There were still nights when he lay in bed wondering what life would’ve been like with her and Thea and little Margaret, there were moments when the longing became so unbearable that he broke down and cried, but the good thing was that that didn’t happen as frequently as it once had. Instead of being an everyday occurrence like it had in the beginning, it only happened a couple times a month, and he was alright with that. He’d known that was how it’d be all along. Alistair had explicitly warned him of that. He told him that even though time would pass, that wound would still be there and that if he was lucky, he’d only be haunted by it once or twice a month. So the fact that it only happened a few times a month, was quite an accomplishment for Harry. But then she announced her candidacy and the British media became obsessed with her.

It was worse than the last time, because at least then, he’d been with her. In every shot of her, he’d been standing at her side, but now it wasn’t him smiling next to her, it was Francis Kennedy – and Harry fucking hated that. He absolutely hated seeing pictures of them smiling or walking side by side, because although they weren’t publically a couple, Harry could see in her eyes that she had developed feelings for him. The way she looked at him, the way she smiled – that was the look of a woman in love. His only comfort was the fact that she had stated she would never be in a relationship with a Kennedy. She had firmly told him that they weren’t the sort of men that she could be with, but with each passing day, with each new picture, he wondered whether or not that still rang true.

And the fact that the paparazzi asked him whether or not he thought something might be going on there, only made matters worse. The fact that they provoked him and made him remember the wonderful years they shared together, as well as the terrible accident that drove them apart, infuriated him. Didn’t they know he was trying to get on with his life? Didn’t they understand he was making a genuine effort to be happy without the woman he loved? It was absolute torture for him, and there was a part of him that wished she hadn’t run for office, but there was also a part of him that was incredibly proud of her. And if ever he were to give the media a quote regarding her candidacy, that would’ve been it, but he had sworn not to comment on it and when he exited the WellChild event, he left through a side entrance so as to not deal with the press who would undoubtedly try to get a comment from him.

He had to keep his distance from those wankers for a few days, just long enough for them to hopefully forget how his jaw had clenched at that bastard’s provocations. It would be a simple enough task. There were no public appearances or events scheduled for the following two days. After having worked fifteen days straight, Harry was taking a much needed rest, which was why he was going over to Will and Kate’s for dinner. They were expecting him at six, but since the WellChild event had ended earlier than expected, he arrived at Kensington shortly after five.

Kate was in the middle of cooking when he arrived. She didn’t hear his first knock, she was far too focused on the roast, but she eventually heard him and ran over to the door.

“Harry!” she exclaimed. “Is it six already? I’ve not finished the roast yet, but I’ll fix you a snack to hold you over until everything’s ready. I know how you and Wills get when you’re hungry.”

“S’alright Kate,” he told her. “I’m fine, really. And it’s actually not six yet, only just turned five.”

“Then what are you doing here? You’re never early.”

“I’m plenty early.” He said, fighting back a smile. “Well, when it’s in my interest.”

“And this dinner’s in your interest?” she teased.

“But of course,” he replied. “It’s not everyday my sister invites me to dinner.”

“As if you need an invitation,” Kate smiled brightly as she spoke. “You know you’re always welcome. Now come on, get in. I’ve the roast to see to and dessert.” She stepped to the side to let him in and once he was inside, she closed the door. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” asked Kate.

Harry raised his brow in confusion.

“Where’s my hug, you silly ginger? You can’t bloody well walk into my home without hugging me, it’s not the brotherly thing to do.”

“Ugh. If I’d known sisters pestered so much, I never would’ve wanted one so badly.” Harry joked.

“Well I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for life.” Kate smiled as she and Harry finally hugged. When they pulled apart, she pecked his cheek. “Let me get that off your face.” With her thumb, she wiped off the lipstick she’d left on his cheek. “I’m afraid Wills isn’t here yet. He went to fetch some strawberries for dessert.”

“Are you making what I think you’re making.”

“I reckon I am.” She grinned. “I know how keen you are on Eton mess.”

“See, this is why you’re my favorite sister.”

“I’m you’re only sister.” Kate laughed. “S’alright though, I’ll take the compliment.” She paused a moment before saying, “Are you sure you don’t want me to fix you a snack.”

“No thanks, I’m alright.”

“If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll be in the kitchen. Okay? Make yourself comfortable. The remotes on the coffee table, and Wills should be home soon.” She was about to leave when she realized she hadn’t asked if he wanted something to drink. “Do ya fancy water or anything else?”

“Water would be brilliant. I’ll get it though.”

“You’re the guest!” Kate protested.

“Hardly,” said Harry. “I’m around often enough to have worn out that title. Now off you go, I’ll follow.”

Harry did fetch his own water bottle from the refrigerator and afterwards sat himself down in front of the teli. He hoped there’d be some sport to watch, any sport would’ve done to be honest, but there was nothing on except for news programs. Thinking them to be inoffensive, he settled on the BBC. They were going on about ISIS again, about how the war in the Middle East was escalating and how there was talk that there’d be a surge in British soldiers being deployed to the area. It was serious international news, and then the topic switched from war to the upcoming American elections. He knew it’d be in his best interest to change it, they were barely covering the Presidential election, so there was time to switch the channel, but as much as it hurt him to see her on the screen, he couldn’t help but want to, which was why he left the teli unchanged. He sat there and watched as the American Presidential Coverage shifted over to that of the Congressional elections, and as was to be expected, considerable attention was being paid to the Special Election occurring in California.

That day was actually the day that the Republicans and Democrats of the state would select the two candidates who would represent their party in the general election. The voting booths had been opened for two hours already, not that that was new to Harry. He was well informed of the election schedule, although he would play dumb if anyone asked him questions regarding it. He knew September 6 was an important day for Paulina, and he was admittedly nervous about what the outcome of the Special Election would be. If she lost, he would feel sorry for her, he would be upset at the disappointment that she would undoubtedly feel, but if she won, then even more pressure would be placed on him by the media and he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with that.

By the time William arrived, the international news segment had ended and it was back to domestic affairs. William greeted his brother in the usual manner, by calling him his favorite little ginger and ruffling his hair. After doing so, he went to the kitchen to drop off the strawberries for Kate, and then went back to the living room and took a seat beside his brother.

“Anything important happen?” William asked as he sat down.

“Same as always,” replied Harry. “They were going on about the war.”

“What’d they say?”

“That there’s to be a surge.” Harry informed him. “The Americans have already approved theirs, now Parliaments looking to do the same.”

“And here I thought that business would be over in a year.”

“So did I, but I suppose we underestimated those vile bastards.”

“You don’t think they’ll try and send you?” asked William, who suddenly became unsettled by the thought of his brother being at the front.

“Dunno, I suppose they might.” Harry actually didn’t mind being sent to the front. He enjoyed his deployments, despite the risk they brought. “It’ll be ages before that though, what with all the planning it takes to send me out.”

“Is it wrong that I hope it’s over before they’ve a chance to send you? Because I do.” He turned to look at his brother. “I’d hate for anything to happen to you.”

“Come off it, Wills. Don’t get all emotional on me. It’s not like they’ve sent me out.”

“Still,” William insisted. “Haven’t you considered ending your military career? I mean you’ve been at it longer than most.”

“But I’ve not accomplished everything I’ve wanted.” Harry replied. “Until I have, I won’t think about retiring.”

“What does Bridget say about that?”

“What does it matter what she says?”

“Because she’s your girlfriend,” replied William, very matter-of-factly.

“Girlfriend?” he nearly laughed. “What in the bloody hell are you going on about? She’s not my girlfriend. We shag every so often and have a decent enough time together, but that’s it.”

“But you’ve been with her for ages!”

“Seven months is hardly ages,” Harry countered. “And even if it were, that doesn’t mean it’s serious. We have fun, she and I. That’s it’s though.”

William furrowed his brow, but said nothing. He had genuinely thought that things between his brother and Bridget were serious. Although now that he thought of it, a nineteen year old model wasn’t exactly the sort of person a bachelor got serious with, but despite that, he would’ve liked to have seen his brother a little more invested. After everything he’d been through, he deserved to feel deeply for someone again.

“So is she still in Prague for the photoshoot?” William asked.

“No,” replied Harry. “She’s meant to fly in later tonight.”

“Will you be seeing her then?”

“Not really in the mood to.” Harry replied honestly. “I was planning on staying in tonight, lounging about and all that.”

“If that’s what you’ve planned, why don’t you stay here?”

“Wills –”

“Don’t act like you’ve anything better to do, you’ve gingery arse just said you’ve nothing on the horizon so now you’ll watch a film with Kate and I.” He said very matter-of-factly. “We’ll be seeing the new Avengers film. It’s quite good apparently.”

Harry parted his lips to protest. He would say that he had plans for the following morning, that he couldn’t spend the night – it wouldn’t be responsible to, but before he even had a chance to think up a lie, William had settled the matter and there was no changing it.

And so Harry spent the night watching films with them. It wasn’t until a half past two when they finally decided it was time for bed. As was the custom, Kate led Harry to the guestroom that only he ever used and told him that there were some clothes of his in the dresser, as well as fresh toiletries in the bathroom. She then bid him goodnight and went down the hall to the bedroom she shared with her husband.

Despite the late hour, Harry couldn’t sleep. He simply lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how things were going across the pond. In less than two hours, the polls would close in California. In less than two hours all the votes would be counted and Paulina would discover whether or not her Senatorial ambitions would continue on. He was nervous for her, which was absurd, he hadn’t spoken to her in years, but regardless of that, he was still nervous. He could only imagine how anxious she must’ve been feeling at that moment. She was probably pacing around a hotel room, muttering to herself, because that was what she did when she got anxious. She would talk to herself in hopes of calming down. She would tell herself that everything was under control, that if she just relaxed she could get through things. He’d been around her long enough to know that was how she operated, and as he thought about her, he couldn’t help but wish that he was in the hotel room with her. He wished he could’ve held her hand as the precincts reporter the results.

But he wasn’t there with her. He was over five thousand miles away, longing for something that could never be. If only he’d accepted her offer to stay in Harvard, he would’ve been with her. If only he’d left behind his title and duties, he would’ve had her, but he hadn’t. His duty to his charities and the armed forces had been too great. He had chosen them over her, just as she had chosen politics over him, and now she was running for office while he was in the midst of a highly decorated military career.

Unable and unwilling to shake her from his thoughts, he instead got out of bed and quietly made his way over to the living room. With the help of the flashlight app on his mobile, he found the control without turning on the lights, and once he had it in his possession, he plopped down on the couch and starting flipping through the channels, hoping to find news coverage regarding California’s Special Election.

It was in the midst of the channel surfing that William stumbled into the living room. He was half asleep, having only woken up a minute or so earlier, and at first he didn’t notice his brother on the couch. He didn’t even notice the glow of the television. He was far too focused on having a drink, and it was actually after he finished the water that he became aware of the noise coming from the living room. The volume was low, so it wasn’t a nuisance, but it was still loud enough to have caught William’s attention. That was why he rubbed his tired eyes and went right back into the living room.

“Harry?” William called out. “Is that you?”

“Who else would it be?” was Harry’s reply.

“It is you.” He walked over to his brother. “What’re you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” replied Harry. “So I figured I’d watch a bit of teli.”

“Anything good on?”

“Not really. Mostly it’s just adverts, lots of adverts promising massive weight loss. There was one you might like though. It’s a cream that apparently cures baldness.”

“I’m not bald.”

“Not entirely,” countered Harry with a smirk. “And with that cream, you’ll never be.”

“You’re such a wanker.”

“A bit, yeah.” He lazily scratched the base of his neck. “Not that that’s news or anything.”

“Certainly not,” said William as he took a seat. “You are aware that we have the film packages, right?”

Harry nodded.

“Then why are you watching this rubbish? There’s bound to be something decent on the HBO.”

“Not particularly in the mood for their programming.” Harry continued to flip through the channels. “What’re you doing up anyway? Shouldn’t your arse be fast asleep?”

“Should be,” replied William. “But I woke up quite parched. Normally, I’ve a carafe filled with water on the nightstand, but I finished that one and forgot to fill it up, so I came to fetch some and then on the way back, I noticed the teli was on and . . .”

“You came to investigate and found my arse.”

“Precisely,” said William. “Can you really not sleep?”

Harry nodded.

“I’ve a pill that’ll help. It’s not terribly strong, it’s organic. At least that’s what the doctor said. I can fetch you one if you like.”

“No need for that. I don’t like taking pills to sleep.”

“How about a cuppa?” he offered.

“I’m fine, Wills.” Harry set down the remote and turned to look at his brother. “Honest, I am. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not ten. When I get tired, I’ll go to my room or I’ll crash on the couch, but either way, I’ll be alright on my own. You on the other hand should get to bed. You look positively knackered. “

“I’m not going to bed until you do.”

“Wills!” groaned Harry.

“Be a good ginger and give me the control.” William stretched his hand out. “I’ll find us something decent to watch.”

William took possession and like his brother began speeding through the channels. Harry had been telling the truth when he said there was mostly weight loss adverts on. It was late at night and those were the most popular infomercials, but then William got closer to the news channels and it was then that Harry saw a glimpse of her.

“Go back!” Harry demanded, not caring if he gave himself away. “Don’t be a wanker, Wills! Go back.”

William did as he was told. He went back several channels until Harry shouted for him to stop. It was a twenty-four hour international news channel that was currently covering American politics. Since that was the topic, it was only natural that they cover the Special Election taking place in California. It was then, when William saw that headline that he understood why his brother hadn’t gone to bed. He was tempted to tease him over it, but Harry had such a serious look of concentration on his face that William didn’t have the heart to. He instead just sat there in silence.

“While it is yet too early to call the Special Election Primary in California, we can confirm that at this moment in time, former Royal girlfriend Paulina Balcázar is maintaining a respectable lead amongst her fellow Democrats.”

William looked over to see if Harry said anything. He didn’t.

“Although the Democratic Primary is at present too close to call, we can project that Thomas Henderson will be the Republican candidate for the United States Senate . . .”

Nearly an hour passed before a similar call was made for the Democrats. During that time, William fetched himself and his brother several beers. It was by no means enough to intoxicate them or even give them a head change, it was simply enough to make the waiting tolerable.

“With 82% of the precincts reporting, we can now project that Paulina Balcázar will win the Democratic Primary in the California Special Election. We now go to the campaign headquarters for reactions.”

And just as they had for Henderson, they went to the reporter covering Paulina’s campaign in Los Angeles. They couldn’t be heard for the first few minutes, not over the roar of the crowd. They had just found out through MSNBC that Paulina would be the official nominee for the Democrats and they were celebrating with everything they had.

Eventually, when they quieted down a bit, the reporter was able to conduct several interviews and about forty minutes after the primary had been called, the Los Angeles Mayor went onstage and introduced Paulina.

Harry had thought he was ready for her. He really did. After having waited almost the entire night to see her, he felt prepared, but the moment she stepped out onto that stage, he felt his heart skip a beat. He had never in his life seen her look so beautiful. She was wearing a vibrant red dress that hugged her every curve. It was a professional outfit, there was nothing risqué about it, it hit below her knees and there was a ¾ sleeve on it, but she wore it with such confident, she moved with such grace that her beauty and strength were on full display.

William watched in silence as his brother reacted to her appearance. Even after all those years it was obvious that he still loved her. William had hoped that time and distance would lessen the affection, but after five years and living on two separate continents, she still profoundly impacted his brother, she was still in his heart. And William was upset that she was. He was upset that his brother hadn’t been able to move on with his life and fall in love again, but his being upset was overshadowed by a sense of pride. He had known all along that Paulina had potential, that there was something about her that destined her for greatness. In his heart he had hoped that her greatness would come in the form of serving the crown, but now that he saw her on that stage, he understood that she was destined to lead.

“This is our moment, our opportunity to be the change we wish to see, and it’s not going to be easy, progress always has its enemies, but I give you my word that I will work tirelessly to not only better the lives of the people of this great state, but the lives of all Americans. If we come together, we can do anything! That’s the beauty of democracy. It’s the beauty of this nation. Yes, it’ll be tough, there’ll be headaches and bumps along the way, but what matters is that we see it through, what matters is that we never stop working, because together, we can do great things.”

By the end of her speech, Harry felt as though he could take on the world. He was reenergized, given a new sense of determination. He wanted to get out there for her, he wanted to campaign on her behalf and make her dreams come true, but then he remembered who he was and where he was. He remembered that he could never publically support her. And that made him a bit sad. It robbed him of the enthusiasm that she had only just given him, and as she thought about her campaigning in the general election, as he thought about everything she would undoubtedly accomplish, he couldn’t help but remember all those times they’d talked about having a family.

He remembered that day up in Balmoral, when they discussed having five children and raising them in the country. He couldn’t help but remember when she told him about the pregnancy and begged him to runaway with her. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how much she must have loved him to have been willing to walk away from her political ambitions. At the time, he thought it was nonsense. How could she sacrifice that wasn’t even hers? But now he understood. She had known all along what she was meant for, she had known all along what she was capable of accomplishing and there had been a time in her life, when her love for him had outweighed her dreams of political greatness.

“I reckon this’ll make me sound like a wanker, but when she told me she’d leave politics behind, I couldn’t help but think she was full of it.” He spoke softly, more to himself than to his brother, but William heard nonetheless. “She was a nobody then, hardly anyone knew her name – in politics, at least, but I reckon she always knew her potential.” He paused a moment. “Can you imagine leaving all that behind? The crowds bloody love her – just look at them! Whenever I see her on the teli, she’s always smiling, and it’s not a fake smile, it’s genuine I know it. She’s come into her own over there. She’s in her element. And yet . . . yet she was willing to leave all that for me. She was willing to give up her chance at being a Senator to be my wife and the mother of my children. Can you imagine loving someone that much? Can you imagine how happy we would’ve been?”

He grew quiet, imagining a life in the country with Paulina and the children. In most of his daydreams, it was them and Thea and Margaret, but at that moment, because the heart can be terribly cruel, he imagined their girls as well as Paulina pregnant with a third child. The thought was enough to make him forget himself a moment, his lips were no longer in the thin straight line, a frown came on them. William immediately noticed, and he instantly put a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder, but Harry pulled away.

“S’alright Wills,” he said as he struggled to keep his emotions at bay. “I’ve no right to be cross. This is my lot in my life and I just have to get on with it.”