Chapter Fifty-One

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As Meredith continued to watch the news, and it wasn't much of of news. No new information was coming out of London besides the fact that it was a terrorist attack. Meredith didn't like that; she wanted more. But it was smart to not give any information away until the facts were completely known. Meredith waited for that information, but she also waited for more news from Harry.

No matter how many times she told herself that he was safe, away from danger, because the Palace of Westminster was over two and a half miles away from Kensington Palace, where Harry lived. That was too close. London was massive and jumbled with people, but two and half miles wasn't enough. It was an hour walk-- a fifteen minute drive!

Panic grew within Meredith. She knew there was nothing that she could do. If she was with him, she would wait with him. At least Meredith would be with Harry. But there was nothing she could do. She waited, pacing around the room.

Meredith texted Harry, Call me when you're out. She sent the message and texted again, No matter the time. She paused and sent another message, Please.

Swallowing, Meredith paced in front of the television. The Palace of Westminster was less than a mile away from Buckingham Palace, and it was alerted that the Queen was taken into protective custody. Most of the royal family had been taken into protective custody if they were in London. Charles was close, but Camilla was seventy miles away.

If this was just a separate attack, just one lone wolf, then they would have been fine. But if this wasn't, if this was only getting started, members of the royal family would have to be put into protective custody. Harry was probably with Catherine, William and their children in the bunker. Others that lived in Kensington Palace had been taken into the bunker as well.

It was past ten by the time Meredith rolled into bed. Harry still hadn't called her, so he wasn't out of the bunker yet. For the new two hours, she rolled around in bed before popping a pill and falling asleep.

From there, it wasn't smooth sailing. It wasn't a nice sleep of darkness. She rolled around, and Meredith jerked awake. She fell asleep again. Even in her dreams, she was on edge. Never like before, she was on edge, where her heart thumped and her head pounded. She was out of breath. Her skin was slippery. It was like she was running, never ending in the run, and she didn't stop. Her body moved, but she wasn't sure where.

Under normal circumstances, Meredith had never felt this way before, especially for something to happened someone else. Usually after terrorist attacks, she went to bed in sadness, woke up in happiness and became sad again when she remembered. It faded off.

Now, her mind only focused on Harry-- where was he? Was he okay? Of course, he was safe, but that wasn't enough. Meredith needed to hear his voice. No-- she needed more. Meredith needed to see his face. She wanted more, but this was all she was going to get.

Her phone started to ring, and Meredith snapped awake. Her body shook. Her mind buzzed. "Shit," she spat.

In the darkness, the only light shined from her phone. Reaching over, she unhooked the cell phone from the charging cord, and it vibrated out of her hands, falling to the ground. It landed with a splat, face down. It became dark again in her dormitory room.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit." Meredith landed on the ground and searched for the phone. Hands running over the rough ground, Meredith finally found her phone and answered it. "Harry."

"Yeah, it's me," he said, back in his Kensington Palace flat. Light flooded through his cream shades. It allowed him to see out and no one to see in. Harry looked tired. "You okay?"

"Yeah. How are you? Are you okay?"

"Of course." Harry laughed sadly, a bit forced. "Were you scared for me?"

Meredith swallowed. "No."

His laugh was a bit lighter now. "I think you were. You look worried."

"The terrorist attack was two and half miles away. Of course I was worried! I have a right to be," Meredith said. "I might be used to gunshots and some other bad shit, but terrorist attacks aren't an usual thing to me. They're not exactly happening near me."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Mere, really. I have to go do some things today. Business as usual."


"It's a face, Mere. It's the face," he said. "It needs to be done. It's my job, and I will do it well. The people of London and tourists and the world need to be reassured that we continue on. London isn't shut down for anything."

"London has stood a thousand years. It will stand a million more."

He nodded in agreement. "Dad will visit hospitals today, seeing some of victims, paramedics and support staff. It will give some hope to families and victims. Hopefully we can give some happiness."

"You will-- he will." Meredith gave her best smile. "He's the future King and all; it might make a few people happy or excited."

His head bobbled like he wasn't even listening.


"Mere, these terrorist attacks are going to continue. This one was--"

"Odd," she finished. "I know. I've seen. It's odd-- the age, the lone attacker, how he did it. All of it is odd." Meredith's gaze didn't waver. "I'm coming to London after I finish university. I can't be kept away." There was one way, and it was if he didn't want her anymore. Neither of them saw that happening any time soon. "I'm not scared."

"You seem a little scared."

"I'm scared for you, Harry. I'm not scared for me, or I would be scared when I travel." She laughed. "Or I would be scared when I go to the mall or to the movies or to class. Those are much more popular targets than someone attacking me with a knife. I'm not scared," she repeated.

Harry kept an even gaze with her. "I'm happy."

"You're not scared?"

"I'm happy for you," he said. "I was a little scared yesterday. Perhaps it wasn't for me but it was for my fellow countrymen and innocent tourists. No one deserves this, and it feels like it won't end any time soon."

"Because it won't," Meredith interjected. "These are ideas, and no one can kill an idea. It flourishes if we let it. Ideas can only be replaced. If someone tries to kill an idea, the idea only grows in rebellion."

"I'm more of a war person. I like to fight."

Meredith smirked. "I know, but fighting and wars can't do everything, Harry. Sometimes people just need to love."

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