Caught in a Lie ~ h.s.

♕ XXIII ♕

It was decided that Saturday morning, at eight a.m. sharp, myself, Niall, and a total of twelve royal guards would depart Weybridge Palace en-route for London or more specifically Bethnal Green. There we would go to Harry's flat and I would convince the man to see me. Scenarios of what could happen were all addressed and back-up plans were drawn out, so there wasn't anything that could shock us when the time came.

♕

Things were different this time around, as one could expect. Long gone were my days of quietly stepping into Harry's flat building, waving a hello at the man at the front desk, and then discretely going up to Harry's fifth-level flat. Now I couldn't help but draw unwanted attention my direction, and my entrance was surely louder than it used to be.

"Ready?" I roll my eyes at Niall, the question being thrown at me for the sixth time since entering the town-car nearly an hour ago. If I wasn't ready then, I surely wouldn't be now, but there's no going back. When I don't answer verbally, Niall takes that as his cue to inform the other guards of our movement.

As the door of the town-car gets thrown open, everything starts to move in slow motion. My movements of stepping out of the car and following behind Niall are slowed to a snail's pace. Four guards run ahead of me to the entrance of the building whilst four other guards fan out to my sides to keep passersby at a safe distance from me, the other four you may ask? Who bloody knows.

There's no longer a way of doing things quietly when you've ascended to the throne, safety is of the utmost importance. Discretion isn't my main priority either and with the few clicks of photos being taken I know I'm recognized by one of the many passersby held back by my men.

I do my best to keep my focus on the task ahead and not the slow trickle of people beginning to show up; only giving the people a small smile and wave of my hand in acknowledgment before ducking into the building. Niall leads me over to the familiar man at the front desk, who looks to have paled since last I saw him.

Harry doesn't live in some swanky flat building with a doorman and room service, but there is a singular man who sits in the lobby, collecting parcels, shooing away unwanted guests, etc. From what I've noticed the few times being here, there is a cycle of men, and women, who man the front desk. This man in particular is usually here in the morning on the weekends, a time when I was most likely to be here. He's usually calm and collected, but one look at me today and he looks starstruck.

"Y-your majesty -"

"Relax, Howard." His eyes nearly double in size when I say his name and he looks like he's stopped breathing. I don't have the heart to tell him that his name is written on his name-tag and that we have met prior to today. "Have you seen Mr. Styles come down today?" His mouth opens and closes quickly, a clear answer nowhere in sight. I feel for the guy and it aches my heart that I cause this sort of reaction from people. "Alright, you wouldn't mind if I go take a look myself, would you?" Finally, after what seems like hours, Howard regains his concious and finds his voice.

"M-my apologies, your majesty. I've not yet seen Mr. Styles this morning, but he could have passed through prior to my arrival." The smile that was on my lips only grows a bit in size at the confession. Hopefully, he's upstairs and not out. "Please, feel free to take a look." He motions towards the lifts behind me. "Would you like me to accompany you? It would be my honour." A light chuckle passes through my mouth and I shake my head.

"Thank you, but no." With another smile in Howard's direction, I turn on my heels towards the lift, already called down and being held open by one of my guards.

A momentary thought passes through my mind as I walk: what if he doesn't want to open the door? I'm not some crazy ex-girlfriend, but the thought of him avoiding me will not do. I need to talk to him, dramatic measures or not.