Life in the Palace (Prince Harry #5)

Chapter Twelve

In the morning, Harry and Meredith finished packing. Her father was ready to go by eight in the morning. Meredith wasn't moving yet. They had stuffed things in yesterday, Meredith doing some rolling in the suitcases. They were just taking the essentials. Meredith wasn't much of a coffee drinker anyway, but she needed some now. Her feet dragged against the ground, and she was ready to climb back into bed at any moment. It was a five hour drive, so at least she was going to get some sleep in there.

She finished the packing and zipped up the suitcase, heaving it to the top of the staircase, readying it to be brought down. Harry saw her and raced upstairs. "I got it," he said.

Meredith gave him a look. Tiredness made her bones ache, but she was still an adult. "Harry, you're doing it again."

"I'm just being chivalrous," he said, taking the suitcase downstairs before Meredith even attempted it. Truly, it wasn't that heavy, but he didn't want her straining herself.

Meredith huffed and came down the stairs. "I'm grown-ass woman."

Harry bit his bottom lip. It was that kind of language that the monarchy didn't like, but it drew him in. There was something about her not caring that he was royal that made it so much better. However, he saw her point. "You're tired," he said. "You said it upstairs. I'm just helping out." He was a bad liar right now, and even he knew it. "Mere, I'm just--"

She put up a hand to stop him. "You promised." Meredith wasn't even showing yet. Moving a suitcase wasn't going to hurt her.

"I did," he admitted. "I'm sorry." He said those words only half meaning them. "Would you like me to take the suitcase back upstairs so you can bring it down again?" He wore a charming smile, like this was some kind of joke.

Both of them knew how ridiculous that was. Her father had already been snapping his fingers, trying to make her move faster. He wanted to be on the road two hours ago, even though Meredith argued that they weren't able to check in before midday.

"Yeah, I do," she said.

The smile dropped from Harry's face. "Seriously?" he asked softly. Harry knew his wife was stubborn. It was another trait that the monarchy didn't like but Harry loved-- mostly. Sometimes, like this, it seemed more harmful than not.

"Yes," she said.

"Um...." Harry wasn't sure what to do.

"Ugh." Meredith rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag for the car, heading out to the garage.

Her father, who had been standing there and watching the whole situation, just smiled, and then he handed a cup of black coffee to Harry. He signed, "You're going to need this."

Harry took the cup, thankful. "It's only going to get worse, isn't it?" he asked.

Her father read his lips and then nodded, knowing his daughter well. Then, he signed, "She's a good sleeper."

As soon as they started driving, Meredith was out light a light. They were barely on the highway before Meredith had her sweatshirt on and hoodie pulled over, blocking out the light. She had put in her earbuds. When she started snoring slightly with her head arched back, it was official.

They took one car up. Meredith had chosen to sit in the back, and her only request to not be woken up unless for food. With Harry in the front, he had imagined some awkward conversation between her father and him. However, Meredith's father was deaf and driving, so it was truly was a blessing. Also, her father's only request for music was that it had a good beat on it so the car was going to shake when the bass dropped. Harry quickly found something on his playlist.