𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 ✓

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓞𝓷𝓮

PUBLISHED ONLY ON WATTPAD

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The royal carriage is swinging from side to side as the coachman snaps the horse leash and makes a 'clop' sound, imitating the horses' hooves. They start moving faster, obeying the rider. Inside the carriage is the firstborn son of Desmond, king of England. He is currently going to the Meeting of Kings because his father thinks it will 'do him good' for his future reign. Desmond is a man obsessed with power and control, he thinks his words are the only ones that count when the subjects' words should also be taken into consideration. Unfortunately, Desmond drilled into Harry that only the royals and nobles matter so he acts like Desmond. Harry does not think any more of Desmond's ways of teaching him what is right and wrong. He knew at some point it was wrong yet no one did anything. So he would not either. It is easier to accept destiny when nobody tries to even do something.

"How much more?" Harry asks the manservant who is sitting with him. The guy is pretty, Harry has to admit, but he does not have time for sexual activities when he is going to an important meeting.

"I'd say we're almost at halfway mark to the Payne kingdom —"

"Halfway?! You are telling me we have been travelling from sunrise to sunset and we are still almost halfway?" Harry is not wrong, they have begun their journey when the sun has risen and the sun is now setting, the sky is beautiful. If only Harry cares about that. He is tired, exhausted and ready to sleep. "Out! Tell the coachman and the guards to stop soon so they can set up a camp for the night," he demands, not caring that the carriage is going at a faster pace and the manservant could get hurt.

"Y—yes, your highness," the manservant stutters.

"And talk like you are living in a castle, which you do. Not that peasant speech," Harry rudely says and turns his head to the right side, looking out of the window. One head is holding his head while the other is on his crotch. He hadn't slept with someone for a few months now and was needy. Maybe that is the reason for his mood, or lack of it, more likely.

"Yes, your highness. I will go tell commander Malik your orders," manservant stands up, bows and opens the small door. He waits a bit before he lowers one leg to the ground. He waits until the path is clear and jumps, running a couple of meters before he can slow down and stop. The first time he was demanded to go outside the moving carriage was a failure — he put both of his legs on the ground, immediately jumping. He broke his arm. Now he knows he needs to do the lowering more slowly if he does not want to break bones. Exiting the moving carriage is hard but entering is easier.

Harry sighs. He does not like to travel like this — in a carriage — and for this long. He would rather ride his horse Homer to hunt. Before he had to perform court duties with his father so he could 'see what it is like being a king' and 'man up', he was constantly in nature with his horse, not just hunting. He used to read books he took from the library, mostly romance. He does not believe in love at first sight as the authors had written about. Love does not exist when you are from a royal family. The only things important, for a prince, are his duties; marry a princess, impregnate her and hope it is a boy, win wars, make peace with those who will be loyal to you and you only, take what or who you want. Build the castle, village, citadel like you wish, or destroy it if it is not to your please. Do not let subjects or noblemen boss you, they are lesser than you, peasants.

Harry is thinking about how he will need to find a wife soon, his days of the bachelor will end… not. He knows his wife will not love him as he will not love her. They both would be fooling around with men and women, as long as no one outside the castle would know about those adventures. 'One of the most important things to do is keep your image. As long as they think you and your wife are in love and happy, it will be alright.'

The carriage stops suddenly, almost making Harry fall on the carriage floor. For the first time in a long time, he froze. One particular flashback came to his mind, the one when his mother died. He hears a thud and swords fighting before he can get lost in the memory. He grabs his sword, all shiny and with a golden holder; rubies, emeralds and other crystals decorating it. He waits inside, following the protocol in case of an attack. Commander Malik opens the door.

"My prince! They are the rebels!"

"The Dead Crows?" Harry asks, suddenly not caring about protocol and making his way out of the carriage.

"Yes, your highness," the commander replies, knowing why the prince is thirsty to get out…"The ones that killed your mother," ...to get revenge.

"I am going to kill them all and then bathe in their blood," Harry sternly says. Warmth spreads through his veins, his will to kill raises. He never enjoys killing someone but those are the people who helped kill his dear mother. She understood him. She was his everything. His light and hope. And she disappeared just like that.

Commander Malik follows prince Harry as the latter marches to the first rebel he sees. The rebel sees him and smirks, lifting his sword at the same time Harry attacks. Their swords clash, Harry fights with no mercy and no regrets, with one thing on his mind: revenge.

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