The Sword (Prince Harry fanfic #3)

Chapter Fifteen

There were two things that happened the next day: paparazzi showed up at Lucy's door and Harry came to Minnesota. This was his first time here.

It was incredibly bright outside when Lucy awoke the next morning. The sun glided down on her old town, and the soggy snow stayed sparkling. Even with her curtains, light came in. She couldn't blink it away. Coldness prickled on her skin, and she pulled blankets up to cover her more. Harry wouldn't arrive until this afternoon, Lucy reminded herself. Then the light went off in her head.

After Harry called her yesterday, Lucy had turned off the television and shut off her phone. She hadn't gone onto her computer. Harry had mentioned doing this, so she wouldn't just wait. If there was anything too important, he would find a way to get in contact with her. If there was a chance people knew about Harry and Lucy, she didn't need to think about it while she slept. In honesty, she didn't. Now, the thought occurred to her. What waited outside her house?

Perhaps that wasn't the question but who waited outside her house?

Lucy pulled a sweatshirt around her and quietly tip-toed down the stairs. It wasn't needed but she did whatever felt necessary so she might hide. Her eyes rounded a corner and from there she glanced outside. Through a crack, it was empty. Her grandfather's house was untouched. No one waited outside. Lucy sighed in relief.

That didn't stop the doorbell from ringing. She paused at the sound. It possibly could've been Sydney. With Lucy's phone out, it was possible Sydney texted or called her about something but Lucy never got it. Slowly, she walked to the door, pulling her sweatshirt closer to her. It was possible that paparazzi grew bold enough, which they were, and they just rang her doorbell, all in the hopes to grab pictures of her.

Keeping herself hidden behind the door, she answered the door. Two police officers waited on the other side, blocking the view of the paparazzi, but she heard them clearly. Paparazzi screamed at her. The clicking of cameras shuttered around her. All lenses were pointed her. The bulky police officers of the town were able keep them away but only so far back. The voices hollered at her.

"Miss Smith," one officer said, "we should speak."

"Do it quickly," she said, still hiding behind the door.

"Ma'am, we can't order them away. They're on public property but the a judge has to order them away. That'll come quickly, but they will follow you."

"Why?" she asked.

The officer shook his head. "Ma'am, they scream that you're dating a male, some prince. I don't know." Wasn't that the truth? "Is there anything we can do for you, ma'am?"

"No." Her eyes fluttered over to the mostly men paparazzi that somehow populated outside the house in one night. There weren't paparazzi in Minnesota, so that they had to come from other places, flown in to snap photos. Yet Lucy recognized some local news stations outside, whom already set up camp. "What will you do about them?"

"Like I said, there isn't much we can do now. We're waiting for judge's orders, and we can only hold back the..." his eyes traveled back to the mostly men and he decided upon his word, "them for so long. We're going to try to calm the situation. I talked to my captain and he said to close shades and lock doors. Wait until this blows over."

"I highly doubt that's going to happen."

"Rumors, right?"

"Thank you," Lucy said. "I'll take that into consideration. I have to go now." She didn't wait for another word before closing the door on the officers. Shutting most of shades last night, Lucy walked around the house once again. The curtains were closed the doors were locked. No one could get and see in.

It was stupid of her but eventually her mind won out. The television was turned on in front of her, and she wasn't on the screen, yet, on the national news. Next was her computer, where she didn't know where to begin. The blank screen was there, and she wondered what she meant to type. If she typed her name, what would come next, Harry-- Prince Harry-- a past transaction? Lucy put the computer down and paced around the room. In the last attempt, her mind won and her phone was turned back on. She hoped to see a message from Harry, whose flight was coming in at afternoon hours. With the cell phone being turned on, the messages rolled in. Pictures popped up on her screen. Headlines had already been written.

They read, Harry's New Blonde! They continued, Did he knock her up? Another one: Look at that Bump! Another one: Who's the new bimbo? Another one: Harry's American Bitch! Another one: Harry likes Fatties! Another one: American, Ugly, Fat, too Young for Harry! So forth they went: The Ugly Prostitute Harry's Got! They went for Harry: Harry too old and old bold. His picture was splashed across the tabloids, more than hers. What Did Harry do now? It came next: Hero to Zero. None of the headlines were that good.

Lucy set her cell phone on the table. She should've known better. Tears brimmed her eyes but it wasn't from pain. She was angry, at herself more than anything else. Those headlines were nothing, terribly written and unplanned; there was no snark or sass to them. Lucy wished they had done better. She blamed herself. Paparazzi had done their job; her name with Harry had been across the news, everyone knew. This was different now. Lies were spread across the world about them, or rumors, really.

Harry and Lucy dated. They dated for three years. They met in Africa. They were friends and then they became something more. Their relationship was filled with respect and responsibility. They honored each other. Their relationship was filled with humor, where both people were allowed to be who they were. There wasn't any hiding between them. Why would there be? They were humans. Lucy taught him that.

Standing, her fingers ran across her skin, where her scars laid. This was who she was. Her past would come up. Her past would always be there. But that wasn't who she was. The scars were her life, and it made her spectacular. However, those weren't the only parts of her life. There wasn't just pain and torture. Her future wasn't painful. There was hope. Her future was with Harry.