vegas | H.S.

p r e c i o u s t i m e

a/n: above is harry's outfit along with vegas' for the chapter. for some reason, i wrote the wrong chapter but i have a way to fix it all up! happy reading - dani xo

         

c h a p t e r t w e l v e

h a r r y' s p o v

In the royal court, I am to be of great prestige. The way I speak influences the opinions of me, and while being in this self-absorbed family, that's all that 'should' matter. Aunt Marie says that I am a servant of the people, vowing to match their every need with a harsh decision. As a duke, I don't know where that would exactly be put into use, but she demands that I know such frivolous things.

I can not bare to have as much respect for her as I did. She used such a disparaging term towards the person I had an attraction to. Vegas does not deserve to be called that, and I will not stand for Aunt Marie to do it once again. That night, I had to force Vegas' mind to disregard it, and to arrive at the acknowledgment that I do not pay much attention to the color of her skin, and neither should anyone else.

The amount of apologies I wish I could say are purging my head, and as we are parted, I have fallen to guilt.

"Duke Harold," The fragile voice of one of the palace's maids slid into my self-shaming session, and continued as my eyes faced where she stood in the doorway, "The royal advisors require your presence."

"Thank you," My eyes returned to the window for a last time, before my feet ambled across the granite tile that was covering the empty embellished room. I met the maid at the hinges and trailed behind her quicken steps.

I analyze the furnishings, the threatening portraits of my predecessors, including that of my late father, Alexander, who held the title until the tragic point of his fall. I didn't know much of him, but from the stories my mother explained, he was a remarkable individual who sought to please others, rather than insure the longitude of his lifetime. The rest of the hallway was adorned with gold embellishments and decorative vases filled with freshly assorted flowers.

"They are in here, Duke Harold," The maid's fingers pointed to the double doors, where I pushed and preceded inside the auditorium sized room, with ascending chairs, and one of my aunt's thrones designed to her customized needs.

The room was partially full with familiar faces. "Pleased for you to join us, my nephew," Aunt Marie articulated from the center position of the room.

I said nothing, settling in the chair I've used for most of my life whenever I'm needed.

"We have brought you here to discuss some problems that have come up," Aunt Marie continued, her hands resting on the valley of her gown. "Harold, you do not know of a few things."

"Such as?" I inquired, insisting she cease the unnecessary plethora of information, and statements.

"Your cousin, Leopald, has ignored his position in the royal court, as you may know. He will not return to England to continue his duties as a prince or the next in line for the throne."

"That's doesn't matter. You are in the position as of now. In due time, he will return," Leopald has a habit of abandoning issues that are too 'big' for his brain capacity. This happened often when we were children but in place of the position, it was the swarm of toys we owned.

"We do not have due time," Aunt Marie countered.

"I do not understand. Why don't we?" My eyebrows kneaded together, confused.

Aunt Marie's silence was an indication that there were subliminal messages under her words. Anyone could see her inner battle to display the information. Her lips curved to a frown, head down and eyelids almost appearing closed from my place in the large room.