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Harry was brought to Olanda when she was still a girl, and everything had been different. She had taken to sort out these different things into two lists: things that were different because she was in a foreign kingdom, and things that were different because she had left the Dursleys.

For example, in Olanda, the weather was far warmer than in Privial, where she had had to wear at least a couple of furs before even thinking about stepping outside. Here, court ladies and maids followed her everywhere, while in Privial she could wander the woods for days with no one the wiser. But maybe she had been allowed to do so because Queen Regent Petunia had hoped that she would disappear deep in the forest, left to her own device. After all, if she did, her cousin Dudley would ascend the throne.

None of this mattered, in the end. In the peace process, her aunt had readily given her away, and hadn't even cared that sending a spouse to a foreign land was a clear sign that they had emerged weaker from the peace agreement.

And thus, Harry had travelled for days with enough guards for Petunia to pretend that she cared for her, only to discover that while it was nice not to be treated as if you were invisible, having too much attention was really inconvenient, at the best of times. She couldn't even bathe or dress by herself; apparently, in Olanda, nobles didn't know how to do anything else other than party and eat and chitchat.

The biggest difference between her present and her past, however, had to be her fiancé, whom she had only met a few days after her arrival. Draco. She had taken an immediate dislike to him, which in turn had made him despise her, much to the discontent of his mother who had hoped for a happy marriage for her son. In a desperate attempt to have them get along, Narcissa put them together for their lessons. To everyone's surprise, it actually worked. They escaped their boring teachers more than once by joining forces, and while Harry taught him to discard the rules when it was needed, Draco taught her to feign regret and honey words to avoid any punishment. The Dursley had never cared for her remorse.

Begrudgingly, Harry quickly realized that she had come to respect her fiancé.

When they finally married each other, years later, Draco's mother gracefully stepping down from the throne for them, they already were a good team.

As the crown was gently put on her head, she looked at Draco's smirk and knew that together, they would be able to achieve everything they wanted.

For the first few weeks, they worked to get rid of the corruption infesting the different sectors of the palace, and Harry quickly began to murmur about more inclusive schools in Draco's ear, sure that she would be able to make him see reason.

Harry had simply forgotten one detail.

They weren't expected to behave exactly like friends anymore.

The first night they spent together, she gritted her teeth the whole time, wincing at Draco's clumsy moves on top of her. This was what the maids were giggling about, what she had seen guards fight for, what Narcissa had suffered to birth her son? Harry didn’t understand the appeal.

She pretended to fall asleep as soon as he finished. She was truly grateful for Olanda's custom of keeping noble husbands and wives separate, as she still had her own bedroom as an excuse to escape his advances. Not that he sought her out that often. Harry supposed it had to be pretty awkward for him too.

Still, she ignored it during the day, reassured by Draco's presence by her side. They wrote new laws, signed contracts, helped people. Having to sleep a few nights a month in his room seemed like a fair price to pay.

The agitation among her maids was the first clue that something had fundamentally changed. She raised an eyebrow, listening to their quiet chatter.

“… even in his room! I don’t know what he…”

“… out of nowhere. I heard she had no shoes…”

“… should’ve at least asked, if it were me…”

Finally, Ginny approached her meekly, and whispered:

“Your Highness, are you aware of what happened yesterday evening?”

Harry smiled privately. She liked Ginny, who never really put on airs and whose eyes were so fiery under her quiet exterior. In a few years, she would be a formidable court lady.

“Please feel free to tell me what you heard, Ginny.”

The young girl flushed, pleased that her queen used her name so easily.

“His Highness rescued a girl who was clearly a runaway. She appeared out of nowhere and may even have been a thief for all we know! But his Highness immediately took her under his protection, and I heard he brought her to his rooms.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. Neither Draco nor she had cheated until this very moment, but she knew that by Olanda’s laws, he was free to take concubines. Still, they would have to be noble, and implicitly, she thought he would talk with her before taking one. This girl may have warmed his bed for the night, but Draco wasn’t foolish. He knew the dangers of the court, and of wild rumors. For his own sake, to maintain his image, he would get rid of the girl soon enough.

“She will be sent back to her village today, if she really doesn’t belong here. I trust his Highness wouldn’t keep someone that raises such commotion in our court,” she smiled peacefully.

For a second, Ginny hesitated, and the other maids held their breath. Harry kept her gentle expression, but she felt her hackles raise. That would be the second clue that something was wrong.

“I think… I think his Highness intends for her to stay. He has sent people to make her a dress. Some say she has bewitched him, and that she is terribly beautiful. But I am sure her beauty couldn’t hope to equal yours, your Highness,” she stuttered, blushing.

Harry stayed silent, not picking on her obvious lie. To have managed so successfully to charm Draco, the girl must indeed have been ravishing. Draco was nothing if not weak in such aspects of life. Harry knew she herself was pretty enough, but she wasn’t the most beautiful woman in her court, and she was perfectly okay with that. With the Dursleys, it had been more of a curse than anything else, to be pretty. She used to cut her hair harshly when she was a kid, to avoid Petunia’s hateful gaze and her cousin’s beady eyes.

Still, Harry was surprised by this turn of events. She would have to talk to Draco, to make sure there was no misunderstanding. She knew that rumors, even repeated by her trusted maids, were sometimes far from the truth. She wondered if Draco’s nightly visits would become sparser, now that he showed inclinations towards sleeping with other women. She would be agreeable to that, at least.

In fact, she would even agree to make this mysterious new girl a concubine, if he so wished. After all, she had forced the court to accept it when she had taken commoners like Ginny for her maids. She had always thought the demand they be high-born to be ridiculous; it wasn’t as if their hands were somewhat dirtier because they didn’t have noble blood in their veins. This meant the groundwork was somewhat laid if Draco really was that taken by the girl.

Sometimes, very privately, Harry would wonder about their own right to the crown. Draco and his mother talked about the Lioness, the Goddess of Olanda, that spoke to royalty and ensured the kingdom was in safe hands. They spoke of their blood, purer, worthier. But Petunia and Dudley also had royal blood. Harry had never seen the Lioness herself, and she wondered every so often how much Draco truly believed in her. But it was blasphemy; worse, treason, so she had never uttered these thoughts out loud.

Harry went out to the gardens, intent to feel the wind on her face before going to see Draco. If there was one thing she missed from Prival, it was the woods. The sensation of being alone in a place that was far older than you but would still protect you. Here, she had to ignore the mutters of her maids a few steps behind her. They knew not to talk to her during her walks, that she would have liked to step outside alone.

She turned right after a cedar hedge and stopped suddenly, feeling her eyes widen. In front of her, sitting on a tablecloth on the grass, somewhat hidden from the stares of the palace, was a woman surrounded by maids. Seeing as Harry had never seen her before, it was easy to guess who this was.

Harry wouldn’t have surmised that she would meet Draco’s potential concubine so soon.

The woman got up quickly once she noticed her, scrambling a little, and the maids bowed deeply. Harry supposed she was easy to recognize, with her long rich robes and her green eyes that all Olanda knew about, if Draco’s mother had been to be believed. She tuned back to the woman’s fluttering words, quite obviously panicked at the sight of the queen. Harry frowned interiorly. She would have to reassure her later that there was no worry to be had. Harry wasn’t easily jealous.

“Oh, your Highness, I didn’t expect to see you so soon, I mean, it’s a pleasure… Um, I am deeply pleased to meet you,” the woman said hurriedly, bowing in front of Harry. Her deep voice was profoundly pleasant to the ears, Harry thought distractingly, trying to suppress a laugh.

“Please stand straight, I am glad to meet you as well, though I don’t have the pleasure of knowing your name, lady…” Harry asked softly.

The woman straightened herself, and Harry finally took a good look at her face. She had to stop herself from gasping, and she fought to keep her expression even.

The woman wasn’t beautiful; she was gorgeous.

Her dark, wavy and disciplined hair (so unlike Harry’s) complimented her fair skin, and her lips seemed to be naturally pink. She had long and dark eyelashes, high cheekbones, a straight nose, a perfectly symmetrical face. Harry found that she had the urge to look at her longer, to see if she could detect any imperfection. The woman smiled, and the light caught on her pearly teeth, and something, something in the nearly sharp points of them made Harry look into the woman’s eyes. She felt herself freeze. She knew instantly that this was an actor. Her eyes, her dark eyes… Harry couldn’t find the apprehension or the naivety her earlier words would have suggested. If anything, they seemed vaguely menacing.

Harry was abruptly very aware of the fact the woman was taller than her. No, not a woman. What this one truly was, Harry didn’t know yet, but it wasn’t a simple commoner, or even a thief. This was something else, and she wondered if Draco had seen it, if he had been attracted by it.

“My name is Tom, your Highness,” she simply said, with her oh so pleasant voice.

Her dark eyes seemed to want to devour her, roving over Harry’s face quickly, stopping for the briefest moment on her lips, and then focusing on her green eyes. She wondered if Tom had wanted Harry to see where she had looked or if it was unvoluntary. She couldn’t see Tom doing anything by accident, though.

“I am pleased to meet you, Tom. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will head to my breakfast.”

“Oh, let me go with you,” the woman, Tom, exclaimed, catching Harry’s arm in hers, as if it were perfectly natural. Harry could physically feel her maids bristle behind her, outraged at such arrogance and casualness. They surely thought the commoner had no education whatsoever. But looking up at her shiny eyes, Harry knew Tom was playing all of them. Again, she wondered if Draco had seen through her, or if he had simply been subjugated by her charms.

Harry really should act on her suspicions. She should go to Draco, scold him because he hadn’t warned or consulted her, and share her thoughts on Tom’s strangeness. But Harry looked at her dark eyes again and… she hadn’t felt such curiosity in a long, long time.

She smiled politely, the smile Narcissa had taught her so thoroughly, and they headed to breakfast.

Harry began to eat her toast when she noticed that Tom still hadn’t touched the food. The woman was simply observing her surroundings, the sweet grass and the high green hedges protecting them from inquisitive stares, and the court ladies hovering a few meters away from them, muttering between themselves.

Harry frowned slightly. She had made the servants install cutlery for Tom, as they had only prepared one set for her, because Draco and Harry didn’t usually see each other before their first meeting of the morning or, rarely, until lunch. Then she wondered… According to the rumors, this woman wasn’t a noble. Harry was doubting everything about Tom, now, but maybe she truly didn’t know how to use the different forks and spoons spread out in front of her. After all, Harry hadn’t either, before coming to Olanda, to Draco’s utmost appall.

Harry carefully put down the toast on her plate and served herself eggs and bacon, and then took the right fork and knife and cut delicately. She put down her knife and raised a fork full of eggs to her mouth, masticating slowly. After a few more bites, she saw Tom take her own cutlery in the corner of her eyes and begin to eat.

Pleased, Harry went back to her thoughts. She wondered what Tom’s plan was. Maybe it was simply to escape poverty, or a hostile environment. Harry could understand and even encourage that. But from the way Tom had acted until now, from the way her dark eyes shined… No, this woman wanted more than wealth and the comfort of a king’s bed. The way she had looked at Harry, as if she wanted to use her, to devour her… This woman wanted power. She wouldn’t be satisfied by the status of concubine, and had already begun to make her moves to raise above that station. The question was, did Tom desire to take her place, or was her goal a position even further? Did Draco know what he had invited in his bed, Harry wondered once again…

“Thank you so much for allowing me to share your meal,“ Tom said demurely.

Ah, so Tom had indeed understood how improper her behavior had been, and how surprising it was for a noble to indulge in it. Harry smiled, turning back to the present. She wasn’t used to talking during breakfast, but after all, she had brought it upon herself.

As they conversed quietly, Harry was once again surprised by the wit of Draco’s mistress. Even though the woman kept her wide-eyes act, she managed easily to draw Harry in conversations, asking pertinent questions and raising elegant points. Harry didn’t think that people outside of the nobility had access to that many books; it was altogether impressive that Tom, who didn’t know which spoon to use, could so seamlessly discuss the ethics of the death penalty Harry was currently fighting against.

Soon, she forgot her plate and she, herself, began to ask Tom questions, curious to know her point of view on the various topics that currently occupied her mind.

Before she realized it, it was already midday. In the corner of her eyes, she noticed her ladies-in-waiting become a bit agitated. Harry interrupted herself and smiled warmly at Tom.

“Ah. It seems I hadn’t noticed the time. I must go for now, but it has been a much pleasant conversation.”

Tom, who during their talk had leaned across the table and had stared at her intently, her whole face serious, completely changed in front of her eyes, so seamlessly that you had to wonder if you hadn’t imagined it. Her shoulders went up a little, she leaned back slightly, and she smiled a bit bemusedly, as if she couldn’t quite handle all that was happening around her. Harry kept smiling. The woman really was quite skilled at her craft.

“Of course, thank you for taking that time with me, your Highness! We will see each other soon, I suppose.”

Once again, her ladies bristled behind her, and Harry had to suppress a smirk. Really, her manipulations were a bit obvious. She smiled and turned towards the castle. She had a husband to confront.

Draco arrived a few minutes after her, looking a bit harried. Harry was seated in front of her appetizer, reading the gazette of their neighbouring country. She put it away once she saw him, watching as he sat in front of her while adjusting his clothes, as if he had just put them on. She smiled. Tom had seemed perfectly put together, when she had stumbled onto her.

“Complicated night?” she asked quietly.

Draco looked up, a bit suspicious of her tone. When he saw her smile, he relaxed slightly.

“Not really. I suppose my attendants couldn’t find the use of waking me up at the usual time, today. I’ll have to speak to them,” he scowled. Harry wondered whether Tom had anything to do with this. But maybe she was becoming paranoid. Draco began to eat.

“I met quite a charming woman, this morning.”

Draco choked up, and Harry waited patiently for him to catch his breath.

“Hum… Harry, you have to believe that I was going to talk to you. However, everything happened very quickly, yesterday.”

“Really? Tell me about it.”

Draco hesitated for a second, glancing at her warily.

“Well… I was visiting a village nearby to personally get their register of grievances. You told me it was a good idea to communicate more directly with our people. As I was riding back to the castle, I saw a young girl being harassed by a group of thugs. I stepped in, they ran away. She told me she had nowhere to go. The thugs had accused her of stealing their eggs, and maybe she did, I suppose, if only to survive. We were at equal distance between the castle and the village. I decided to take her to the castle, and to give her a position of maid, if possible, as she seemed to have nowhere to go. And then…”

Once again, he hesitated, and Harry understood. And then they had surreptitiously stumbled in his chambers, and there they now were.

“Do you think she intended for you to find her this way?” she mused out loud. It all seemed a bit too convenient.

“What? No, how could she? No one knew I would go to this village in particular.”

That was why it was even more impressive.

“You noticed how she is, I trust?” Harry prompted.

Draco only blinked. Harry waited a beat, but Draco didn’t answer.

“She’s not a simple peasant, that one. You should be careful with what you do with her, though I admit she is a great beauty.”

“Harry,” Draco interrupted, looking hesitant. “You must know that I… That I love you. If you ask me to, I’ll never see Tom again, I promise.”

Harry paused, her fork midway to her mouth. Draco extended declarations of love very sparingly, though she could see how much he cared for her in other ways. They had been friends for years, now, and she marvelled at what her life had become every day.

Before, she had had her freedom and the wilderness. But in coming here, she had learned about affection, warmth. About a mother’s love.

“Of course I love you too, Draco,” she smiled.

Draco raised his head, looking strangely hopeful. He had to have known that Harry would always stay by his side, right? After all, they had agreed that they would be a team. To clear any lingering misconceptions about her supposed jealousy, she declared:

“Do not fret about Tom. If you truly wish to take her as your mistress, or even your concubine, I will not oppose it. I simply ask that you remain sincere with me.”

Draco didn’t answer, though he looked disappointed. Harry frowned. Had she not understood what he was implying? Before she could open her mouth, the doors opened suddenly, Tom marching triumphally in the dining room. A maid followed her, wringing her hands, looking harassed. She must not have managed to stop Tom in time. After all, the woman looked quite formidable, even as she bowed in front of them.

“Your Highness! I have looked for you everywhere!” she exclaimed in a sugary voice.

“I-“ Draco began, glancing hurriedly at Harry.

“Oh, I am terribly sorry, but I have to leave lunch early, Draco,” Harry exclaimed, standing up efficiently while her ladies-in-waiting walked quietly towards her. “I have an appointment with our dear healers to discuss the entry rules of their guild.”

As she was leaving, Tom turned her head back to smirk at her, and Harry only smiled in response. She saw interest flash in the woman’s eyes, before the doors slammed shut behind her.

She didn’t understand anything about Draco, these days, it seemed.

He both avoided her and tried to get in her line of sight, if she understood what was happening correctly. That was to say, he didn’t directly talk to her, but he regularly appeared in the same room as her, flaunting Tom at his arm as if she were a beautiful bauble; Tom seemed to delight in this, of course.

Each time, Harry smiled politely and returned to her affairs, but considering the men and women that threw them embarrassed glances and commiserating turns of mouths, the court seemed to believe she had been scorned.

That would not do.

Harry sighed harshly, rubbing her eyes in the comfort of her own rooms.

What the hell had her life become, that Draco and her focused less on laws and improvements of their brave nation, and more on childish drama, these days? What would Narcissa say, if she saw them like that. Harry felt herself smile, even as her heart tightened. Surely, she would scold them and order them to talk it out.

Harry turned over in her bed, decision made. She would converse with Draco the following morning, and then everything would be quiet sailing again.

She finally fell asleep, head far lighter than it had been in weeks.

It was harder to track Draco than it had ever been before. Surprisingly, now that she was finally making a move towards him, Tom appeared alone everywhere she went, lounging against a door, or a table, or a horse. Was that the only way the woman knew how to move? Harry had to hand it to her, she looked very attractive in each ridiculous situation, but that was beside the point. Harry and Draco had to talk if she wanted her kingdom to be ruled satisfyingly.

“Tom,” Harry beamed, deliberately ignoring the way her new flamboyant robes accentuated the woman’s figure. “Do you, perchance, know where I could find Draco?”

“Oh! I believe he went out to find me some new garments… He thinks these ones are too common, you see. I am sorry to hear you were looking for him, he is so easy to find when you know his habits.”

“That may be so,” Harry soldiered on. “Then could you pass along that I was searching for him?” 

"If you ask me so gently, of course I will obey," Tom said gracefully, lowering her long lashes. Harry refrained from rolling her eyes. It had been a long time since she had felt so frustrated. But surely, Narcissa would sooner roll over in her grave than behold Harry's unsightly manners. Therefore, Harry smiled, though it was a bit strained, and simply answered:

"Thank you."

Tom froze, raising her eyes and inspecting blankly Harry's face. Then, she smiled and asked:

"I think I heard Draco talk about a new reform for the peasant taxes. Is it going well, your Majesty?"

Harry blinked. It wasn't a seamless change of subject, but after all, it was a topic she never stopped thinking about, these days.

"Yes, quite well. Well, the cardinal has raised some concerns, because he is afraid the Church will compensate for the lowered taxes. We still have much to discuss, but the talks are on the right path."

Tom tilted her head.

"Aren't the people of the court also concerned? Their own taxes could rise, after all."

And thus, Harry spent a couple of hours conversing with Tom instead of looking for Draco. When she realized how much time had passed, it was mainly because her ladies-in-waiting had begun to fret worryingly behind them. Well, mostly Ginny, because she was the least subtle, but Harry found it endearing. She finally bid farewell to Tom, and thought the woman seemed slightly disappointed. But it must have been a wishful thought.

Draco didn’t come to find her, and after a few days, all she had managed to do was strike up multiple conversations with Tom instead. They were most helpful; thanks to them she could hear another well thought point of view. But it didn’t change the fact that it was the first time since they were kids Harry and Draco had spent so long without talking with each other.

And now Draco had gone to another trip to collect registers of grievances, and of course he had taken his horse at the earliest hours, without warning Harry. She frowned to herself, walking faster through her maze of tall hedges. Narcissa had had it made years before she had arrived in Olanda, and Draco and Harry had spent a lot of their youth playing inside these gardens. For once, she had managed to shake off her ladies-in-waiting, which meant she was finally enjoying some hard-earned solitude.

She turned around a corner, thinking about her chances of pinning down Draco when he would be coming back, when she noticed Tom lounging against a delicate fountain, apparently enjoying the shades of the leafy hedges around them. Harry’s eyes widened slightly, but she quickly reigned in her expression, politely smiling at Tom. She now had to wonder if her ease at losing her ladies-in-waiting hadn’t been simply Tom mingling where she had no business to. Well, maybe it was a bit ridiculous to presume Tom was a mastermind ruling over every detail of her life. Even if that woman had somehow managed to keep Draco and her separated for weeks, now.

While she had been lost in her thoughts, Tom had been studying her, and she seemed to find what she saw unfulfilling, although she beamed suddenly once she noticed she had Harry’s attention.

“Your Highness! Why don’t you come sit next to me, the air is so fresh next to this fountain!”

Harry raised her eyebrows. It had been a long, long time since she had simply sat on the ground. In Olanda, nobility didn’t roll themselves in the mud, as Narcissa had often scolded young Harry and Draco. Oh, and what the hell. No one was around to see her, apart from Tom, who Harry was sure had far more nefarious plans than to spread rumours about the Queen sitting on the ground.

She let her fingers trail through the grass, appreciating its soft prickliness.

“Do you enjoy this heat, your Highness? I heard you were living in Privial, before, and that it is usually very cold there all year round.”

“Oh, yes, I do. When we were children, we often used to escape to go swim in the lake, with Draco.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then quickly, far too swiftly, Tom moved and straddled her. Harry froze, stunned by how fast the situation had spoiled, feeling like she had a ferocious panther ready to pounce on her lap. If only she could reach for the small knife hiding inside her thigh… Of course, the one time she had a need for the blasted thing, her opponent was sitting at the exact place it was hidden. Before she could come up with another solution, Tom slammed her head against the grass, her hand gripping her throat. Harry stilled, trying to evaluate her chances to get out of whatever this was. Tom’s fingers spasmed, bringing Harry back to the present.

“I want to get rid of this damn calm expression,” she snarled.

Before Harry could retort anything, Tom leaned down and kissed her.

After a few minutes, Tom retreated slightly to examine her face, and whatever she saw must have been rewarding, because she lurched forward to kiss her again, a beautiful flush high on her cheeks, an irresistible gleam in her eyes.

Later, as Tom was taking her apart, Harry wondered if that was what it was supposed to feel like all along.

Harry panted, Tom laying on her, arms firmly attached around her chest. Harry felt far lighter than ever before, feeling the grass brush around her skin and Tom’s hair on her shoulder.

“What the hell,” she said out loud, wonder in her voice, and the birds around them seemed to chirp happily in agreement.

Tom chuckled against her neck. It made Harry shudder.

“I’ve been trying to make you curse for weeks, and this is all I had to do?”

“You have?” Harry blinked, surprised.

“Naturally. I was trying to take your husband right there in front of you, and you let me. You didn’t seem annoyed by it. You even encouraged it, if I must believe Malfoy! You weren’t impressed by me.”

Tom still seemed exasperated, which made Harry smile. Then she registered the rest of Tom’s words. Yes, Draco. What would they do, now? Tom really was quite efficient, managing to get into the bed of both the king and the queen. For an instant, she entertained the idea of sharing, of them three falling in some sort of affair, which Tom had laid all the foundations for, really.

She was surprised by the hot possessiveness surging through her body at the idea. She wanted Tom for herself. Tom was hers. Harry trailed her fingers through her soft and luscious locks. Tom preened a bit, tightening her grip on Harry’s torso. A thought suddenly occurred to Harry, who stiffened.

“How much time until my ladies-in-waiting or the guards come looking for me?”

“We still have half an hour at least,” Tom readily answered, nuzzling herself against Harry’s shoulder, entirely too knowledgeable about the whereabouts of her people. There was a beat of silence.

“Tom, do you… Do you truly want to be Draco’s concubine?”

Tom straightened up, leaning on her elbows. She inspected Harry’s face, and Harry marvelled at her cold, dark eyes. She resisted the urge to caress her cheek.

“Why? Does it finally bother you? You want me to back off so you can playhouse with him?”

“I just… After this, I don’t know if I want to see you with someone else,” Harry said. For some reason, after all the embarrassing things they had just done, this was the time her cheeks decided to redden. She felt inexplicably embarrassed.

Tom raised her eyebrows, her eyes roving over Harry’s face. Then, slowly, she smirked.

“Why, your Highness, are you jealous? You want me all to yourself?”

Harry felt so red she wondered if she would explode, and Tom let out a bark of a laugh, something Harry had never heard coming out of her, but she suddenly wanted to hear again, as soon as possible. With a delighted grin that showed too many teeth, Tom leaned down and kissed her cheek, her forehead, and then she bit her neck.

Then, they made the best of the thirty minutes they had left.

Draco sent a pigeon the next day. Apparently, he would have to extend his stay because of a group of bandits that were roaming around, terrifying the villages in the vicinities.

Harry spent a lot of time with Tom, bringing her to councils, to see different guilds, to visit the hospital, to have tea next to a warm fire; all to the visible confusion of her ladies-in-waiting and of the court.

One night, after Tom had snuck into her chambers, she tried to talk to Harry about leaving. Harry blinked, having never entertained this kind of idea before. Leave? To go where? It seemed impossible. Meanwhile, Tom kept whispering in her ear, the darkness seeming to embolden her to speak.

“… And we will be great, out there, Harry. (Once again, even if it had become a habit, Harry shuddered at her name spoken in that velvet voice) You know, I wanted to have power, here. But in the end, I… I want to be with you.”

Tom wasn’t looking at her, keeping her face hidden in her neck. Harry felt her heart soar, and she touched Tom’s cheek, making her look up. She gently kissed her, understanding the significance of all that Tom was giving her.

“I’m sorry Tom. I want… I want to do good. I know I could still really help a lot of people, if I stayed.”

“You know, as much as I despise Malfoy,” Tom said reluctantly. Harry hid her smile. “I must admit that he has picked up a thing or two while working by your side. He will do fine without you.”

Harry smiled sadly and Tom seemed to understand her silent refusal, because her face shut off. But what else could Harry do, really?

The next few days, they pretended their conversations hadn’t happened. Then, finally, Draco came back from his trip. In the gardens in front of the castle, Draco dismounted from his horse, and kneeled in front of her, kissing Harry’s hand as the crowds around them erupted in cheers at the return of their sovereign.

Harry smiled, ignoring the furious jealousy that soared in her when Tom grinned at Draco, quickly whisking him away from the gardens. Tom didn’t even look at her.

Suddenly, one of Draco’s knights approached her, respectfully keeping his head down.

“Your Highness,” he bowed. “May I speak with you? I feel like an adventure we had during the trip might interest you.”

Harry recognized him. It was one of Ginny’s big brothers, Ron, who had managed to get his knighthood when Ginny had been chosen as a lady-in-waiting.

“Of course,” she smiled. “Follow me.”

She brought him away from prying eyes, in a small chamber.

Ron stayed silent for a while, nervously turning around the cup of tea in his hand. After a few minutes, Harry leaned towards him.

“Whatever you have to tell me, know that it won’t leave this room if you don’t wish it to.”

Ron looked up.

“I- it’s not that. I’m only worried about being taken seriously. I know I couldn’t go to his Highness about this matter, but I thought maybe with you…”

He trailed off. Harry wondered what this was about. She wanted to believe Draco and her inspired the same level of trust in their people, though maybe these last few weeks, they had seemed a bit at odds. Soon, Ron spoke again.

“This is about Lady Tom. I have reason to believe she is involved in conflicts she shouldn’t be.”

“How so?”

“The bandits that we stopped… Most of them ran away, but I managed to catch one of them. His Highness was in a hurry to come back, but I still interrogated him before we headed towards the castle. That man… He seemed to know Lady Tom.”

“I believe Tom was being chased by bandits, before coming here,” Harry said.

Ron looked up, determination in his gaze.

“Yes, but he spoke her name in a very peculiar way. As if… As if he was afraid of her. And he seemed to know a lot about her. He didn’t say one thing about their leader. That made me believe that Lady Tom…” Ron interrupted himself, reddening. He seemed embarrassed by his own conclusion, but he powered through. “Lady Tom may lead these bandits.”

Harry stayed silent.

“Where is that bandit, now?”

Ron’s blush deepened.

“He escaped. His companions came back, and as I was alone, they whisked him away. I am deeply sorry, your Highness.”

“Did your prisoner talk about their plans, their goals?”

“Yes,” Ron continued, manifestly happy not to be dismissed. “From what little he told me, I understood that they were foreigners. I think… I think they came into this country just a few months ago. And I believe they have eyes on the crown.”

Harry leaned back in her seat, stunned even though she shouldn’t be. She had suspected Tom from the beginning. Though she didn’t know what her true goal was, Harry had been certain that she wasn’t a simple peasant. Still, a coup? She had guessed that maybe Tom was coming for her position, but for Draco’s?

Harry felt her lips twist. Did Tom approach her with her goals in mind? Undoubtedly yes, but was there a sliver of sincerity in there? She abruptly stood up, surprising the knight.

“Thank you, Sir Ron. You have been very helpful, and I am glad you brought to me this kind of sensitive information. Rest assured this will be handled. You may leave, now.”

Alone at last, she paced in front of the fireplace, emotions warring inside of her. She was exasperated to feel betrayal and fear for Tom, jealousy for these men that seemed to know her more than Harry did, protectiveness over Draco, and deep, deep inside her… Yes, she felt admiration. Because Tom reached so high Harry hadn’t even guessed where she wanted to land.

Harry tossed and turned in her sheets. Draco and Tom hadn’t come down for dinner. She knew Tom had been given her own apartments, even though she spent a lot of her time in Draco’s rooms anyway. Feeling her heart writhe at the thought, Harry sprung out of bed. She wanted to have her answers now.

She put on a robe on her night gown, donned her carpet slippers, and got out in the big hallway. She quietly shook her head at the guards waiting outside, signalling that she shouldn’t be followed. They stayed where they were, staring at the wall in front of them. She guessed they thought she was going to see Draco.

There weren’t any guards in front of Tom’s chambers. Harry tentatively knocked on the ornate doors. She didn’t know what she would do if it turned out that Tom was still with Draco. But nearly immediately, the doors swung open, and Tom appeared in front of her. For a second, Harry forgot everything that had happened or even why she was here; Tom was such a glorious sight. Her long hair hung free on her bare shoulders, and her eyes seemed to shine in the shadowed room.

Without waiting for her to speak, Tom smirked and grabbed the front of Harry’s nightgown, shutting the doors behind them. Harry sputtered, not used to being manhandled so unceremoniously, but Tom was already kissing her. Any thought of protesting flew out of Harry’s mind, and she sighed against Tom’s lips, running her hands through her dark hair. It was only when one of Tom’s hands began to lift her gown that Harry remembered why she had come; she moved apart slightly, trying to control her blush and to sober up.

“We need to talk,” Harry panted, which was far from the dignified way she had wanted this conversation to go.

Tom raised a perfect eyebrow.

“Is that why you came into my rooms in the middle of the night?”

Harry refused to be cowed.

“Yes. I don’t expect we will have many occasions to be alone, now that Draco is back.”

Tom’s expression distinctly soured when his name was mentioned. Harry wondered if Tom had become less efficient in hiding her emotions, or if Harry had become more proficient in guessing what she was feeling. Or maybe Tom didn’t care to hide in front of Harry. But all that was merely wishful thinking.

“I just want us to be honest with each other. I don’t know about you, but all this time, I have only been guessing at what you’re thinking. I wanted to avoid considering the future, because I don’t know how we can both fit in. But this way of living is not sustainable.”

Tom began to retreat slightly, but Harry didn’t let her, she firmly took her hands. Tom stared at their joined fingers. Very softly, Harry asked:

“Tom. When you stumbled upon Draco’s path, did you wish to take his throne?”

There was a beat of silence. Harry held her breath. And then, Tom laughed.

“Is that what this is about? I thought you knew everything, already. Of course I wanted his throne, Harry.”

“How many men do you have under your command?”

Tom’s eyes shone as she brushed a few stray locks away from Harry’s face. She looked like a feline.

“A lot.”

“Do you still have the same desires?” Harry asked finally, her heart beating so loudly she was sure Tom could hear it. Without answering, Tom declared:

“I am not from this country, Harry. Not even from a neighbouring one, really. I spend my time travelling, meeting new people, learning new kinds of science, and wreaking havoc wherever I go. I love it. Do you even have any idea of how vast the word is? The Church can’t even agree on whether the Earth is round or flat, that’s how little our planet is known. This country is so small, Harry, so small. When I arrived near it, I was bored. I wondered how easy it would be to stage a coup. I had intended to stay only for a few weeks, and then to resume my path, but I didn’t expect you.”

Tom smiled coldly, and the hands in Harry’s hair lost their softness, gripping her harshly.

“You know already that I gave up on this throne. That’s why you’re so calm. You’re wasted here, Harry, in such a tiny country. I can leave these lands in peace because you wish for it. But I want you to come with me.”

Harry swallowed. She didn’t know what to say. It all seemed so out of the realm of her reality that she was barely managing to entertain the idea. From the moment her aunt had sent her to Olanda, into the awaiting arms of Narcissa, she had vowed her life to this land, to these people. To that warm woman who had accepted her as a daughter.

“It’s not so simple. I can’t leave like this. I could make so many improvements, here, don’t you see?”

“Olanda is already far better to its inhabitants than other kingdoms. You know Malfoy could handle it. Or is it that you cannot leave him, Harry?”

“Draco is only a friend to-“

Head turned away, Tom spat:

“Don’t lie. I know you have to lie by his side at least twice a month.”

“That’s only in the hopes of conceiving a heir, I-“ Harry blurted out, desperation tugging at her heart, wanting Tom to just look at her.

Tom moved incredibly fast and gripped her throat, effectively preventing her from talking. She was showing her sharp teeth, fury shining in her eyes.

“I don’t want to see you become fat and heavy with a man’s child.”

They stared at each other, and then Harry slowly took Tom’s hand, bringing it from her neck to her lips. Harry kissed her palm, her heart twisting for Tom. Tom closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, they were cold. When she spoke, in was with an unmistakable finality.

“If you want Olanda to stay the same, in Malfoy’s safe embrace, then come with me.”

Harry lowered her eyes.

“I will answer you tomorrow night.”

She quietly left Tom alone in her rooms.

Harry listened to Draco talk during the council, but didn’t intervene. She visited the healers and heard what they had to say about the latest reform. She went to the kitchens and discussed with the chefs.

Olanda felt like a well-oiled machine, one she knew down to the smallest detail. One she was helping perfect and improve. But that day, she thought of her future. Of what the decades would look like, there, in her castle. At the end of a long, peaceful life, she would leave a few children, maybe some grand-children, and die knowing she had seen Olanda change, shaped by her own hands. Tom would have left a long, long time ago.

It all sounded terribly boring.

Tom was nice enough to give her an ultimatum. To give her the illusion that there was no choice to be made, that she would whisk Harry away by force if necessary. By some kind of mysterious wonder, Tom was as taken with Harry as she was with the wanderer. But Harry knew herself, and was certain that she could escape Tom and stay in this country if she really wished to.

The only problem was that these last few weeks had facilitated far too much reflecting. They had made Harry conscious of the fact that she found reigning over a country utterly mind-numbing.

She liked helping people, seeing the consequences of the positive changes she implemented. However, discussing for weeks, sometimes months, over a single law, holding balls to satisfy the nobles, having to entertain gossipers and keep a pristine reputation, all while fighting against the Church at each step she took… Her people had been worth it.

Only, she knew Draco would be a good king to them, even if she was gone. He was a dear friend to her, her very first one, really. But being married to him was not enjoyable, and that held true for them both, she was sure.

Harry wanted to leave. She wanted to travel with Tom, and learn all about the world outside of Privial and Olanda.

She sat at her little desk in her chambers and began writing.

It’s dusk when Harry reaches the edge of the woods, hidden under a warm cape. Tom is waiting for her, looking so handsome and dashing in her riding boots, her tight pants and her thin shirt that Harry feels her breath stutter.

Relief flashes in Tom’s eyes, though Harry is sure she doesn’t want her to see. She beams, her heart lighter than it’s been in years.

“Good day to you. I am told you know your way around these woods.”

“Is that the only disguise you could find?” Tom smirks, tugging at Harry’s hastily made braid. “We will find you new clothes tomorrow. My men will take care of it.”

As they’re beginning to walk deeper into the forest, Tom sneaks a few glances towards Harry. She waits for Tom to speak.

“No regrets?”

Harry smiles.

“You were right. Draco will be a good ruler. And anyway, I left him a letter. It will be soon far too late to even think about coming back.” She reaches for Tom’s hand and entwines their fingers. “I am where I want to be, anyway.”

They walk silently for a few moments, the night quietly falling around them. Stars begin to shine in the sky, owls start to hoot. Harry is dizzy with happy anticipation, with the euphoric feeling of a new beginning. She savours each step that brings her further away from the castle, and breathes deeply the fresh air of the woods. Suddenly, Tom guffaws, throwing her head back. Harry adores the sound of it, and wants to hear it more, more, more.

“What is it?” she asks, already smiling.

“They called me a thief and I guess I really am after all. I stole this country’s most precious treasure.”

And then she kisses Harry’s hand, without leaving her eyes, a devilish smirk painted on her lips.

What else can Harry do but swoon?