The Queen (Harry Styles)

Chapter 45

My mouth dropped open and I reached beside me on the bench to grab the decorative pillows and chucked them at Harry and Lucas.

"F.uck you," I yelled before stalking off to my room. "You can sleep on the f.ucking couch!" I yelled to Harry.

"Thanks Lucas," I heard Harry say. "Merry f.ucking Christmas."

"Baby," Harry said later, rubbing my arm waking me up from my slumber. "Baby, I'm sorry about earlier." I shifted beneath his touch and slid up on the bed, rubbing my eyes and looking at him.

"I'm still mad about you calling me the wicked witch," I said sleepily. "That was mean," I sighed. "And I don't want a real tree."

"Too bad," he laughed, leaning over to me. "I'm sorry for calling you the wicked witch, I shouldn't have done that. I was a little aggravated by your reaction. I was trying to do something nice for us, and you didn't like it."

"I don't like how it's ten foot tall," I said to him. "That's what I don't like. And it will loose all the green bits and I will have to clean it up all day."

"I promise to sweep the green bits," Harry laughed, kissing my cheek.

A knock at our bedroom door brought us from our thoughts. We glanced up and Trish stood in the doorway, a large box in her hands. I got up from the bed and walked over to her, my features softening. I went to take the box from her, but she shook her head before setting it down on the ground. I gave her a large hug.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered to her.

"It's not your fault, dear," she said softly. "It could have easily been one of your loved ones as well. He was my baby boy," she said, her voice cracking as she placed her shaking hand to her chest. "I'll tell you, it's not easy losing your child. It feels like your heart was yanked from your chest and squeezed into dust."

"I can't imagine," I said, taking her hands in mine.

"I don't want you to," she sniffled, patting my hands gently. "I don't want you to be worrying about what I went through when you're having a baby."

"How's Perrie?" I asked.

"Grieving," she said. "She has to grieve for two people you know. Herself and her little one," she says sorrowfully. "My grandchild will never know their father and it breaks my heart."

I rested my hand on her back, rubbing it up and down soothingly. I glanced over to Harry who was sitting at the foot of the bed taking in the brokenhearted woman before him. I lead her to a chair, allowing her to sit. Harry got up and handed her a box of tissues.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she whispered. "I apologize for my indecency."

"Trish," Harry said, speaking up. "You're part of our family, there's no need to be formal around us. You've helped Emerald get used to this since she got here, it's okay to show weakness in front of us. It takes time to get over something like this. I know you will never recover from this because no one should ever outlive their child, but you will get through this," he assured her, clasping his hand around hers. "I made my wife a promise that I'm going to find these bastards and stop all of this before our baby comes. I'm going to get those bastards for my father, for my country, and your son. It's personal."

"You send them straight to hell," she cried, covering her mouth. "Those bastards murdered my son."

"I know," Harry nodded. "The punishment is death. They will hang when we find them," he said to her.

"Hang?" I asked, my eyes wide. "You're going to murder them?"

"It's the only way to protect our home, Emerald." Harry said softly. "What's in the box, Trish?" he asked, removing his hands from hers and reaching out for the box.

Trish breathed in slowly, leaning down to take hold of the box. She lifted the box into her lap, and looked at me. Her eyes welling with tears as she looked down at the box, sniffling. Tears fell from her eyes quickly, cascading down her cheeks like that of a waterfall.

"Zayn," she whispered, her hand rubbing the top of the box. "He-he started a project when he heard about your baby. He knew you were very fond of his crafts, and he wanted to make you something for when you have your baby shower in the coming months."

She opened the lid and handed it to me.I peered inside to be met with an array of boxes, all holding Zayn's logo printed on each velvet covered box. I opened the first little box, a silver ring that had emerald jewels embedded into it. Harry took hold of one of the larger boxes and inside was a silver tiara with emerald in it as well.

"He called it The Amiable Queen collection," she said softly. "As you are one of the kindest and most caring monarchs this kingdom has ever seen. He wanted to create a collection of tiaras, necklaces, rings, and the likes to honor you and our kingdom. Your name inspired his designs, each one has emerald jewels in it."

"That was so kind of him," I said, lifting the tiara from Harry's hands to inspect it. "I-I don't even know what to say."

"There is nothing to say," Trish said. "My son died for his kingdom as well as his family. I just wish he was still with us."

"We all do," Harry stated, resting a hand to her knee. "His death hasn't gone unnoticed here in the palace, Trish."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." She sniffled lightly, wiping under her eyes. "What would you like me to do, Emerald?"

"Like you to do?" I gaped, looking at her.

"Do you need any mending of clothes? Food? Carpets needing washed?"

"Trish, you don't have to be here," Harry said. "Your family lost—"

"I'm well aware my son is dead, Your Majesty, but I am not about to sit around and cry about it all day. I have no more cleaning to be done at home, and I need to keep my head and mind busy. So please, I need to work." Harry and I exchanged a look before nodding gently.

"I have some dresses that need extending," I said, pushing my hand on Harry's shoulder as I lifted myself off the floor.

"Of course," Trish said. "I'll have these back this afternoon."