THE CONMAN AND THE MAID // Harry Styles

The Blacksmith's Son

"Gemma," he breathed harshly, his eyes pressed shut. That was his sister. She'd thought he was dead like all the other Southerners who'd entered Isolde. Reyna gracefully got off her horse and led Thunder toward them.

"Thank Heaven, you're still alive!" Gemma said as Harry wiped away her tears and kissed her forehead. "They told me that you were captured. How did you escape?"

"I got some help," he said, turning back to Reyna.

Gemma's eyes went wide as Reyna said hello. But before Reyna could properly introduce herself, the woman wrapped both arms around her and trapped her in a suffocating hug. "I don't know who you are, but thank you for saving his life."

Reyna looked at Harry, a smile stretching her lips. To his sister, she said, "it was your brother who saved my life."

Gemma let her go but kept both hands tight on Reyna's shoulders. "I'm so glad he met you. You're so kind and beautiful."

"Thank you," Reyna said shyly. The word 'beautiful' fitted Princess Reyna better than it did Rain. Rain -- the princess' maid, dirty hands, messy hair, wearing rags for clothes -- was far from beautiful. Still, it made her happy whether Gemma had meant it or just being nice.

After hearing the short version of what Harry and Reyna had gone through, Gemma got emotional and insisted that Reyna stayed with them for a few days. But Reyna kindly refused because she had to leave tomorrow morning.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Harry's smile fading.

"Come inside!" Gemma tugged at Reyna's arm, pushing Harry's shoulder. "Ma will be so happy to see you."

Reyna almost forgot that he had a mother, who was sick. He'd never mentioned what illness it was, but ever since he left, Gemma had been staying at this house instead of her husband's because their mother couldn't be left alone.

Following them, Reyna slipped through the curtains into a room dimly lit by sunlight from a square window above the bed, where lay Harry's mother.

"Ma, look who's home," Gemma said.

Reyna stood by the entrance, hand wrapped around Harry's forearm. Flashbacks ran through her mind, and she saw herself rushing into her mother's chamber the night her mother had passed away. The memory sent a cold shiver down her spine as she leaned closer to Harry.

His mother weakly propped herself up and sat upright with Gemma's support. The second she saw Harry's face, however, she gasped and jumped right out of the bed. Reyna let him go as a reflex, and his mother threw her arms around his neck, tears running down her face.

"Ed! My dear Ed, you're home!" she wailed and turned to Gemma. "Go get your brother, Gemma! Your father is home!"

Reyna was frozen to the spot, her mouth formed a silent 'o' as Gemma gave her a sad smile and quietly left the room. Harry kissed his mother's forehead and whispered, "I'm here, my love," in her ear, his eyes locked with Reyna's. "It's me, your dear Ed. I'm home."

.

.

.

Reyna had known that Harry's childhood had been unpleasant, but this was far from what she'd expected. She should be upset that he hadn't trusted her enough to tell her about his mother's sickness, but she knew this wasn't easy to talk about. His mother was mentally ill, which was why all the good doctors in the land could not cure her. She'd lost her mind since her husband had sacrificed himself to protect their family in a war between the South and the North.

She'd been right to worry. The people in the capital were always the first to suffer the consequences of war.

"Sometimes she remembers who I am. But most of the time, I'm her dear Ed," Harry chuckled, leaning a shoulder against the door while toying with the gold ring on her finger. They were outside the house, while Gemma stayed in the bedroom to keep an eye on her mother. The poor woman was finally getting some sleep without waking up every five minutes calling out her late husband's name.