Caught in a Lie ~ h.s.

♕ XIX ♕

It's now or never, and I'd rather not have the guilt of my lies weighing on my chest for the rest of eternity.

"I'm so sorry, Harry." I can't bare to look up at him. If I see those soft eyes of his then surely I'll start to cry and I need to keep it together. The apology I've rehearsed so many times in my head now has it's time to shine, yet it doesn't come out; in fact I can't remember any of it. I usually excel at public speaking, yet now when I need to speak the most I simply cannot. "I can't keep doing this; I can't keep hurting you –"

"Oh my God." As much as I don't want to, I raise my eyes to look up at him despite being afraid to witness the hurt and anger, but I'm shocked to see he isn't looking at me. His low exclamation isn't in response to what I've said, but to something behind me. His gaze is trained over my shoulder and I find myself glancing back to see what he sees, but there's no one really there aside from a few patrons of the restaurant.

"What?" Why can't this be easy?

"The King of Weybridge is dead." I almost don't hear him at first, the words not registering in my brain as quickly as they usually would. I find myself wanting to laugh, thinking there's no way I can be hearing him correctly, that my mind is deceiving me.

"I'm sorry, it sounded like you said the King of Weybridge is dead, that can't be possible." I just saw my father yesterday, he most definitely cannot be dead, there's just no way. Harry's eyes scan back to me before ticking his head in the direction of behind me.

"The news, it says the King collapsed during a meeting with Parliament." Suddenly, it feels like I can't breathe as I realize that my brain isn't deceiving me, that he actually said those words. "Look." I don't want to turn around. I want this to not be happening. I want to be dreaming, no, having a nightmare. My hand subconsciously comes up to pinch the back of the arm, but I don't wake because I'm not sleeping.

I can already feel the overwhelming urge to scream and cry bubble up within me, but nothing comes of it as I slowly turn and gaze up at the multiple televisions across the side of the restaurant. They all mirror one another, playing the most popular news station in the London area.

My eyes take in the reporter standing outside Parliament, giving details to the news' stations hosts, the subtitles flashing across the bottom of the screen as her mouth moves but makes no sound.

Witnesses from within Parliament say that the King of Weybridge, King Hugh Armitage, seemingly collapsed during a meeting an hour ago. When emergency services arrived the king was taken to King Edward VII's Hospital, but would appear that it was already too late, the king passing at the age of 59.

"No." My words come out in a hushed whisper, the frog in my throat keeping me from screaming them. My hand trembles like my jaw as I raise it to cover my agape mouth, hoping to keep myself from making too big of a scene. "He can't be dead. I saw him yesterday. He was fine yesterday." The words tumble out of my mouth as I stand from my chair and approach the television screens. Despite the awful fight that resulted in hurt feelings and a bruised jaw, he is still my father and I do love him My eyes are welling with tears, making the televisions blur messily until it's just bright colours.

The king leaves behind a wife, Katherine Armitage-Winfield, and three daughters, Mabel, Gwendolyn, and Violet Armitage-Winfield. With the king now passed and the laws of their family, Katherine must step down as the queen, leaving eldest daughter, Mabel, to take the throne.

"No, no, no, this isn't happening." The words are rushed, but come out quiet, apparently not alarming anyone nearby. This is not how it's supposed to happen. I'm to take over the throne after my father dies of old age, not after something like this. I'm supposed to have years before I'm forced to worry over the throne. He's not even sixty; he can't be gone. A tear drips down my bruised cheek, reminding me of the events from yesterday and causing my mind to spiral.