Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Henry never imagined that he would find himself in a situation like this.
Prince Henry let his eyes travel around the crowded ballroom. As a member of the royal family, he was used to having to attend various parties. All around him, the elite of the world chattered. They were all acting polite, regal, and utterly terrified of breaking protocol. He could hear someone laughing loudly to his right somewhere; another woman was whispering behind her fan.
His grandfather, the King, was a silent, imposing force of nature, surveying the room to ensure that no one breathed out of turn. He couldn’t see his brother, Philip, anywhere but he was likely lecturing some poor soul on the correct angle to hold a champagne flute. His older brother had always thrived in this performative cage, whereas Henry always felt like he was drowning. Things would have been a lot worse though if it wasn’t for the man standing right next to him.
Alex Claremont-Diaz, the son of the American President, was attending this party as his guest . . . and as his boyfriend. Other than attending the gathering in Texas to watch the elections with the rest of Alex’s family, this was the first public appearance that they were allowed to attend as a couple; their first in the UK.
He felt a weird mix of resilience and freedom to finally be able to be out as a gay man . . . a gay prince, and fear of the continued ridicule from this high society crowd. But at least he had Alex by his side to help ground him as he stepped into this shift in his life.
He can sense Alex’s nervous energy beside him, evidently he wasn’t the only one anxious about entering this new public reality of their relationship.
“Take a breath, sweetheart,” Henry said, nudging his boyfriend with his elbow. “If you faint, I am not carrying you out. I have a reputation for being cold and detached to maintain.”
Alex visibly relaxes a little at this before smirking back at him. "Bold of you to assume I wouldn't drag you down with me. If I faint, we’re becoming a headline."
He rolled his eyes at this, but turned to face his boyfriend. “I am really glad you are here with me tonight,” Henry whispers between the two of them.
“As if I would have made you face this rowdy crowd all by yourself so soon after the sex scandal that outed us.” Alex nods in the direction of the dance floor. “What kind of boyfriend would you take me for?”
Henry sent him a small smile as he reached out to straighten the collar of Alex’s suit.
“Are you ready to mingle? My grandfather would have my head if I just hid in the corner with you all night.”
Alex let out a soft chuckle. “I would say that I don’t give a damn what your grandfather thinks of the way we spend this party, but I was kind of impressed with how fast he relented to us being together.”
Henry raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Relented? I distinctly remember him referring to our relationship as a ‘youthful indiscretion’.”
“That was just because he was worried about how the public would react to the news. Remember how fast he changed his tune as soon as the crowd of supporters were brought to his attention?”
Henry shook his head. “I took that more as him being fearful of how his subjects would react if he were to force us apart. He may have had a riot on his hands.”
Alex shrugged before scanning the crowd in front of them. “Either way, there is nothing he can do about it now.” He reached down to grab his boyfriend’s hand, his expression softening as he gazed into Henry’s eyes. “You’re stuck with me now, darling, whether your grandfather likes it or not.”
The prince intertwined his fingers with Alex’s as he started to pull him towards the crowd, his expression a mix of amusement and warning.
“Careful with that tone,” Henry murmurs under his breath, just loud enough for only Alex to hear. “Unless you want me to drag you onto the dance floor in front of every tabloid in Europe.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat? First, everyone knows about us anyways. Having a few photos of us dancing together can’t come as a shock to the public any more. And second,” Alex paused, pulling Henry closer to him so their foreheads were touching before whispering, “You know I love to dance with you, regardless of who is watching.”
A light dusting of pink appeared across Henry’s cheeks at Alex’s words. He found himself caught between wanting to hide the smile creeping across his face and giving in to the desire to kiss this man breathless right there in the middle of the crowded room.
“You just can’t help being a little bratty when all eyes are on us, can you?” he muttered, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. Only affection.
Alex shrugged. “You know I can’t help it.” He sent Henry one last smirk before gazing around them again. “So, which do you want to do first; mingle or dance? And dinner is supposed to be served in about an hour, right?”
Henry let out a huff of a laugh, his expression both exasperated and amused. He can’t resist the smirk that forms on his face as he looks at Alex, shaking his head with a fond resignation.
“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that, don’t you?” He runs his hand through his hair, taking a quick glance around the room, making sure no one of importance was too close. “Let’s start with the mandatory mingling first. We can dance later.”
And so, with his grip firmly in Alex’s hand, Henry decides to introduce him to every single person at the party, because hell, now that he can say the words ‘This is Alex Claremont-Diaz, my boyfriend’ he wants to repeat them over and over again.
They spend the next half hour or so walking around and greeting guests, while accepting a few glasses of champagne from the wait staff. They are just on their third glass of the night each when Henry hears a voice behind him. “Your Royal Highness,” the voice said with just a slight accent.
Henry’s shoulders immediately tense as he recognizes the voice behind him. The grip he has on his boyfriend’s hand involuntarily tightens, his fingers clenching around the other man’s own. He manages to keep his expression neutral as he slowly turns to look at the source of the voice, his heart rate already beginning to elevate.
The last thing he wanted was to run into this man; especially today, with Alex by his side. A million thoughts rush through his head, each one worse than the last.
“Eddie,” Henry forced the name through his lips. “What are you doing here?”
The man before them was wearing a tux, with his dark curls gelled down on top of his head. He was smirking back at Henry, a mischievous look in his eyes.
“Why Henry, don’t be so rude,” Eddie chastised. “Surely you weren’t expecting for us to never run into each other again.” He then turned and extended his hand out to Alex beside him. “You must be the new boyfriend. Alex, right? I am Edvard, the Duke of Kent.”
Alex, ever the charmer, immediately shook Edvard’s hand, his charming smile firmly in place despite the tension in the air. He tried to force his initial unease down, the feeling of something wrong settling deeply in his stomach.
“That’s right,” Alex responded, his tone friendly and polite. He squeezed Henry’s hand, noticing the other man’s tight grip and the barely detectable stiffening in his shoulders. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Forcing his grip out of Henry’s hand, Alex wrapped his arm around the prince’s shoulders instead, holding him close to his side. He wasn’t sure exactly what had affected Henry so much about this man, but he knew he needed to get his boyfriend away from him. “I’m sorry, but if you’d excuse us, Henry’s promised me a dance before dinner.”
Henry was shocked momentarily when he felt Alex’s arm wrap around his shoulders, but he was simultaneously glad for it and slightly annoyed by the action in equal parts. He knew Alex meant well, but he didn’t need to be shielded. He could handle himself.
Henry’s eyes flicked from Alex back to Edvard, his gaze hardening slightly as he said, “Yes, I did make such a promise. Excuse us.”
With a hand placed gently on Henry’s back, Alex led the blonde prince out onto the dance floor, before wrapping his arms around his neck. After a second he felt Henry’s hands move to rest on his upper waist. He let the matter sit for a few minutes as the couple moved slowly back and forth to the music.
“Do you want to tell me how you know Eddie?” Alex asked softly.
Henry sighed, and leaned forward to rest his head on Alex’s shoulder. “I’d rather not talk about it right now.”
Alex rubbed slow circles on Henry’s back, his lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Okay,” he murmured, voice soft but steady. “We won’t talk about it. Not here. Not unless you want to.”
He held him a little tighter, letting the music carry them, his thumb tracing gentle lines along Henry’s spine.
“But whenever you’re ready,” Alex whispered, “I’m here.”
Alex and Henry continued to dance in silence, surrounded by other couples until the Steward entered the room to make an announcement. A chime was sounded first to draw everyone’s attention towards him.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, dinner is served. Please make your way to the dining room to be seated.”
Reaching for Alex’s hand, Henry followed behind the crowd as they slowly made their way to the dining room. He was still a little tense from his brief interaction with his ex, but hopeful now they could return to their joyful afternoon.
Lining up, in the hallway, Henry waited patiently for their turn to enter the next room. He didn’t understand his grandfather’s insistence to have a seating plan for these parties. It took forever to get people situated for dinners doing it this way. In his mind, it made a lot more sense to just allow everyone to enter the room together to establish their own sitting arrangements.
It took a few minutes, but eventually Henry and Alex made their way to the front of the line and they were able to get a look at the sitting chart that was shown to them by the Chamberlain, and Henry’s stomach dropped. His name, printed in neat calligraphy, was placed directly beside Edvard’s, while Alex was supposed to sit on the other side of the table, across from him.
For a split second, his breath caught. His fingers tightened slightly around Alex’s hand again. Henry kept his expression carefully neutral as they passed the Chamberlain, not wanting to make a scene in front of dozens of guests and at least three members of Parliament.
“Of course,” Henry muttered under his breath, voice low and strained, “he’d do this.”
Alex turned to him immediately, sensing the shift. “Hey,” he said softly, just between them. “You don’t have to sit there if you don’t want to.”
Henry swallowed hard and gave a small shake of his head. “I don’t have a choice,” he whispered back. “It’s protocol.”
Undeterred, Alex stepped slightly in front of him as they approached the table and their place cards.
And then . . .
Alex plucked both of their cards from the table, and calmly switched them so that he was now seated next to Edvard . . . and Henry was safely across the table from him instead.
Alex turned back to look at Henry. “Better?”
Instantly, it was like a huge weight was lifted from Henry’s shoulders. He felt his cheeks grow slightly warm and a small smile appeared on his face. Looking back at his boyfriend, he couldn’t help but feel an immense sense of gratitude. Alex didn’t even know anything about the situation between him and Eddie, and yet the fact that he was clearly tense and anxious around the man was enough for Alex to do what little he could to help him.
Henry gave a small nod and reached out to squeeze his arm. “Thank you,” he whispered, before hurrying around to the other side of the table before anyone to question him or Edvard could show up.
Alex gave Henry a small, reassuring grin as he took his new reserved seat. He felt a little proud of himself, having managed to get Henry away from Edvard for the evening, but he also couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something huge. The prince had been acting so strangely this entire time, and the way he had reacted to the interaction in the ballroom had been bordering on fearful.
Alex was snapped out of his thoughts, however, when he heard a familiar voice come from across the room.
Eddie.
“You’re quite bold, aren’t you?” Eddie said smoothly as he approached the table and pulled his chair out. His voice was light, almost playful, but there was something sharp beneath it.
Alex didn’t flinch. He just tilted his head slightly, flashing that same dazzling Claremont smile; the one that had charmed voters and senators alike since he was eighteen.
“Not bold,” he corrected gently, adjusting his napkin in his lap with deliberate calm demeanor. “Just observant.”
Eddie’s smirk flickered for half a second, just long enough for Alex to notice.
Across the table, Henry kept his eyes down, pretending to be very interested in the pattern of the china, but Alex knew he was listening to every word.
“You think you’re doing him a favor,” Eddie continued lazily, swirling the wine in his glass. “Shielding him like this . . . moving place cards around like some rebellious schoolboy.” He chuckled lowly. “But Henry’s always needed someone to clean up after him.”
At this, Henry finally raised his head enough to send a glare in Edvard’s direction, but the man didn’t even seem to notice.
Alex’s smile didn’t waver, but something colder sparked behind his eyes.
“Oh,” he said softly, leaning forward just enough so only Eddie could hear. “I’m not cleaning anything up.” He paused, and then smiled wider. “I’m just making sure my boyfriend feels comfortable, which is the least anyone would do for someone they cared about.”
This did cause a reaction from the Duke. The smile that he had been fighting to keep on his face disappeared and he scowled at the American next to him, before turning to address Henry across the table.
“What have you been telling him?” he asked, making it sound like a playful joke, but the look in his eyes was a warning.
“Nothing . . . Yet,” Henry replied. The room was starting to fill up, and he really didn’t want to have this conversation in front of an audience, but he felt like he needed to tell Alex something about why he was acting so tense around the man. “Alex, Edvard is my ex. We dated for almost three years.”
Alex froze.
Not because he was jealous, not exactly.
But, three years? Three years, and Henry had never mentioned him? Not once. And now here this guy was, smug and polished like he still had some kind of claim; acting like he knew things about Henry that Alex didn’t.
His fingers twitched against the tablecloth. That wasn’t what bothered him the most though.
It was the way Henry’s voice had gone quiet and careful, when saying it. Like he was bracing for something. And the way Eddie looked at him . . . not like a man who’d lost a lover, but one who expected obedience.
Alex forced a slow breath through his nose, keeping his expression cool even as something hot simmered under his skin.
“So,” he said lightly, turning to Eddie with a tilt of his head, “three years and you two never appeared in any tabloids together? That’s . . . impressive control.”
“I’m sure Henry has explained to you how strict and rigid the royal family is when it comes to gay relationships. In fact, you two didn't even come out yourselves. Control?” Eddie shook his head at Alex foolishly. “Control had nothing to do with it. We were just a lot better at not getting found out. Weren’t we, darling?” he asked, tilting his head in Heary’s direction.
Henry clinched his fist on the table. “You don’t get to call me that anymore, Edvard.” He glanced at Alex before adding, “He wanted to come out at some point. I begged him not to say anything. It . . . It was part of the reason why we broke up.”
“Part?” Alex asked, looking between the two men. “What was the other reason?”
Alex saw Henry tense up again from across the table. Clearly, they were now breaching the reason for Henry’s strange reactions towards seeing Edvard tonight.
Locking eyes with each other, Henry sent him a pleading look and shook his head. He obviously didn’t want to have this conversation here.
Alex opened his mouth to say something, but a gong sounded from the back of the room announcing the start of dinner. As if on cue, rows of wait staff strolled into the room carrying plates of food on trays that were resting on their shoulders.
Whatever had gone on between Henry and Edvard in the past, the conversation would have to wait.
Alex was not happy about having to wait. He wanted answers now, but he also understood that the last thing Henry wanted was a public spectacle to top off the fact that he had to sit with someone who clearly still made him uneasy, so he bit back his questions.
Throughout the course of the dinner, Alex was too busy trying to catch Henry’s eye across the table, or discreetly nudge his foot with his own to notice how often Edvard’s gaze shifted to watch the prince over the rim of his glass, or the way he smiled when Henry was looking in his direction, or the hint of possessiveness that slipped into his expression if Henry ever looked away for more than a few seconds.
The constant attention that both of the men across the table were throwing his way throughout the whole meal kept Henry on edge. It was all too much. The affection that Alex was showing him was one thing. If it was the only flirtatious attention that he was receiving right now, he would have loved it. But it accompanied with the constantly watchful gaze of his past abuser was another thing entirely.
His stomach was in knots. He spent most of the meal just pushing his food around on his plate, only managing to take a few bites.
The final straw was when Edvard made eye contact with him again, this time slowly licking his lips.
He couldn’t do it. Dropping his fork, Henry pushed his chair back, stood, and hurried out of the room. He could hear Alex calling his name, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t spend another second in his ex’s presence.
Alex watched, startled, as Henry suddenly rose and practically ran out of the room. A pang of worry shot through him. He had never seen the other man look so . . . scared.
Instantly, he followed, pushing his chair back and started after the prince. By the time he reached the entrance to the dining room, he’d just caught sight of Henry disappearing down the hall towards the bathrooms.
Hurrying after him, Alex pushed open the bathroom door to find Henry clutching at one of the sinks, tears in his eyes.
“Hen,” Alex asked cautiously. Taking a step forward, he let the door swing closed behind him. “Henry, what-?”
“Alex,” Henry choked out, and with that Alex pulled his boyfriend into his arms, holding him tight around his waist as Henry buried his head into his shoulder, sobbing.
“Hen . . . baby . . .” Alex stuttered as he rubbed his hand up and down the boy’s back.
He let the man cling to him for a minute before gently pushing him back so he could look into his eyes. Placing his hands on his boyfriend’s face, he gently brushed away some of his tears with his thumbs.
“Okay, Hen. You need to talk to me now. What the hell happened between you and Eddie.”
Tears continued to stream down the prince’s face as he clung to Alex’s suit. His breathing was ragged and he was shaking.
“Henry, look at me,” Alex pleaded, and waited for the boy to lock eyes with him. “You need to talk to me. I can’t help you unless I know what happened.” Alex rested his forehead against his boyfriend’s. “I will help you. Whatever you need, I am here. Just tell me what happened.”
Henry closed his eyes, trying to control the tears that were still falling despite Alex’s best efforts at wiping them away. He clung to the lapels of Alex’s suit with both hands, fingers curling into the fabric and holding tight, like if he let go, his boyfriend would disappear. After a few deep, shaky breaths, he finally managed to speak, his voice coming out in choked gasps.
“I . . .”
He swallowed hard before continuing.
“It’s- it’s a long story.”
Alex nodded, keeping his expression soft and encouraging. He continued running his thumbs gently across the damp skin of Henry’s cheeks, trying to soothe the tension that he could feel in the other man’s body.
“Okay,” he murmured, “take your time. I’m not going anywhere, baby. Just . . . start at the beginning.”
Henry tried to focus on just looking at Alex, grounding himself in the feeling of his boyfriend’s warm hands against his cheeks, and the gentle, soothing expression in his gaze. He thought about the way Alex would look at him when it was just the two of them; no Edvard, no cameras, no expectations, no secrets. He wanted that feeling back. He wanted to feel normal, safe, loved.
Taking a deep breath, Henry tried to steady his racing heart. He was still shaking, but the feeling of having Alex’s full attention, of having his eyes on him and only him, was helping.
“We . . . we started dating back when I was in Uni,” he started softly, his shoulders hunching as his fingers unconsciously gripped the lapel of Alex’s suit a little tighter, “We were together for three years . . . three years.”
Alex nodded silently, giving his boyfriend a gentle squeeze on the arm, encouraging him to continue. He could still feel the tension in Henry’s body, and he wanted to wrap him up in his arms and not let go until it was gone.
Henry exhaled slowly. It was hard to look into Alex’s deep amber eyes and talk about it, but the other man was a calm presence in the storm that was racing through his mind.
“We . . . We were happy, for a while. At first.”
“So, what happened?” Alex asked softly.
Henry let out another shaky breath at the question, trying to fight the memories that were suddenly flooding his mind. The fights, the cruel words, the accusations . . .
“It . . . it started slowly,” he said quietly. “Small things at first. Comments. Arguments.”
“Comments?” Alex asked, pushing gently for more information.
Henry swallowed hard, his fingers trembling against Alex’s chest.
“Like . . . he’d say I was too sensitive. Too emotional. That I ‘let my position go to my head’. If I disagreed with him, he’d say it was because I didn’t understand what real pressure was.”
His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper now.
“He started keeping track of who I spoke to, and when. If I smiled at someone too long, danced with someone at a party . . . he’d bring it up later. Call me careless. Flirtatious.”
He shuddered slightly. “Then came the guilt trips. ‘After everything I’ve sacrificed for you’. ‘Do you have any idea how hard it is loving someone like you?’”
Alex’s jaw clenched so tight it ached, but he kept his touch gentle.
“And the name calling,” Henry continued, eyes glistening again. “Weak. Ungrateful. Undeserving. As if . . .” He broke off, breathing unevenly. “As if no one else would ever want me.” A tear slipped down his cheek.
“I want you, Henry,” Alex insisted, squeezing his upper arm again. Henry raised his eyes to look at him again. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me, H. I love you so much. You know that, right?”
Henry nodded shakily.
“And all those things that he called you; weak and ungrateful, undeserving. You are none of those things. You are the strongest person I know, Hen. Having to walk around in a family for years that made you feel like you couldn’t be yourself. And using your position as a prince to help the public, visiting the children at the hospital. You're caring, Henry. You're helpful, kind and generous. They don’t call you the ‘Prince of England’s Hearts’ for nothing. Eddie is an idiot if he can’t see any of that.”
Henry let out a choking sob, and moved to lean his forehead on Alex’s chest. Alex wrapped an arm around him, holding him close.
“H, this abuse, it . . . it didn’t turn physical at any point, did it?”
Henry took a shaky breath before biting his lower lip, and Alex felt him nod against his chest.
Alex went very still.
His breath caught, just for a second, before he pulled Henry even closer, and Henry moved to bury his head into Alex’s neck. Alex’s arms locked around him like he could shield him from every terrible thing that had ever touched him.
“Jesus,” he whispered, voice thick. Not with shock. With rage. Quiet, molten fury that didn’t need shouting to be felt.
He pressed his lips into Henry’s hair, holding on like he was afraid the world might try to take him away.
“You didn’t deserve any of that,” Alex said, low and fierce. “Not one word. Not one look. Not one second of feeling like you weren’t enough.” His hand cradled the back of Henry’s head gently. “You are everything, Henry.”
He paused, then added softly, “And I swear to God . . . if I ever see him touch you again . . .”
He didn’t finish the threat.
He didn’t need to.
They were quiet for a moment. They stayed like that, just holding each other. Henry was the first to pull away.
“Alex, I- I don’t want to go back in there. I can’t- I don’t want to see him again . . .”
“God, H. There is no way in hell I’m going to make you go back in there, and have to sit at the same table with your abuser again.” Alex paused to think for a moment. “Do you want to go to our room, here? We could watch a movie or something? Or if you don’t even want to be here any more, I could call Amy. We can go pack our bags, and head back to America tonight if you want.”
Henry chewed on his bottom lip as he thought through his options.
“We . . . we can’t just leave.”
“Yes, we can, Henry,” Alex insisted. “I think we should go up and hang out in the room, just you and me. It wouldn’t be good for you to go back in there.”
Henry let out a shaky breath, his fingers still tangled in the fabric of Alex’s jacket. He wanted to say no, but the truth was, his chest still felt tight, his skin crawled at the thought of having to walk back into that room and seeing Edvard sitting there like nothing had ever happened.
Alex was right. He didn’t have to face him. Not tonight.
“. . . Okay,” he whispered finally. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Alex didn’t hesitate. He took Henry’s hand firmly in his own and gently pulled him towards the door.
But just as Alex reached for the knob, a sharp knock echoed from the other side.
Both men froze.
Then slowly, the door pushed open.
And there stood Edvard.
His eyes flickered between them, lingering on their joined hands, before landing on Henry with something dangerously close to triumph in his gaze.
“Running off so soon?” he said softly. “We barely got to catch up.”
“Let us through, Eddie,” Alex stated firmly, giving Henry’s hand a squeeze to let him know everything was going to be fine.
Edvard took a few steps inside the bathroom, causing Alex and Henry to have to back up, the door swinging shut again.
Alex pushed Henry behind him, shielding the man he loved from his abuser. “What do you want?” he asked, glaring at Eddie.
Edvard chuckled softly, not looking at all intimidated.
“Relax, Claremont-Diaz,” he said casually, like they were just two old friends catching up. His gaze flicked to Henry, still cowering behind Alex. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I just wanted to talk to Henry for a moment. Is that such a crime?”
“Go ahead then. Say what you want to say so we can leave,” Alex growled.
Edvard smiled as he took another step forward, still calm and in control.
“I don’t need an audience,” he said, eyes flicking to Alex with quiet disdain. “Especially not someone who thinks holding a prince for five minutes makes them qualified to play protector.”
“Well, after what Henry has just told me about you, there is no way in hell I am leaving you alone with him,” Alex stated. “What is it that you want to say to him?”
Edvard’s smile slowly fell, the mask of charm and composure finally cracking a little. His gaze hardened, fixing on the two of them.
“This is between me and Henry, boy. I’ll talk to him as much as I damn well please.” He clenched his jaw, taking another step forward, and was almost surprised to see Alex stand his ground.
“I already said you can talk to him, but I’m not leaving,” Alex emphasized. He felt Henry grabbing at the back of his jacket, and he desperately wished that he could convey to him somehow that everything was going to be okay. “Whatever it is that you want to say to him, you are going to say in front of me too.”
Edvard let out a sharp sigh, his irritation at the other man’s stubbornness quickly turning into anger.
“Fine.” He shot Alex a look. “If you’re so damn insistent on staying, sit down and be quiet.” He motioned towards a couch that was placed just inside the door against the wall. “Or I can have you forcibly removed.”
Alex’s eyes darkened at the threat. He turned around to find Henry staring back at him with round, fearful eyes. Alex grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently as Henry reached for him. “I’m not leaving you,” he whispered in Henry’s ear. He waited for Henry to nod once. Only then did Alex let him go and went obediently to sit on the couch.
Alex sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, every muscle in his body coiled tight like a spring. He didn’t take his eyes off of Edvard, not for a second. His jaw clenched as he watched the other man slowly circle into Henry’s space like a predator.
Henry hovered near the sinks. His arms were wrapped around himself, shoulders hunched. His breath was shallow again, eyes flickering between Edvard and Alex with rising panic.
Edvard finally turned to him, voice suddenly softer; dangerously tender.
“You always did hate confrontation,” he said. “Running off at dinner? Crying in the bathroom?” A sad shake of his head, fake disappointment. “You used to be stronger than this.”
Alex opened his mouth, but Henry gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
So Alex stayed silent.
For now.
Edvard stepped closer to Henry. “And now you’re hiding behind him?” A scoff. “I don’t know what you see in this reckless American, but I’ll say one thing; he’ll never understand what it means to be royal. To carry that weight.” He reached out, slowly, and brushed a strand of hair from Henry’s forehead. “And neither will he ever have seen you . . . completely undone.”
“He knows what it means to be a leader,” Henry said, finding his voice. “His mom is the President of the United States. He knows what it’s like to be under constant public scrutiny and protocol. He knows what it means to be a symbol of responsibility.”
Edvard let out a low, mirthless laugh, fingers still lingering near Henry’s face, close enough to feel the heat of his skin.
“Being the son of a politician isn’t the same as being born into a thousand years of tradition,” he said coolly. “His family can walk away at any time. Resign. Move back to Texas whenever they wish.” His eyes flicked towards Alex with open disdain. “You think he’ll still want you when the cameras fade? When he’s not getting headlines from fucking the Prince?”
Henry flinched, but then straightened.
“He’s not using me.”
“No?” Edvard stepped closer, voice dropping. “Then why is he here? Why did he suddenly start caring about royal protocol and diplomatic relations after cakegate? Because you were convenient. Because you were broken, and shiny.”
“That’s enough,” Alex snapped. He shot up from the couch and stepped firmly between them. “You don’t get to do this,” he said, his voice quiet but razor sharp. “You don’t get to stand here and pretend you gave him anything but pain. You don’t get to twist his love for me into something cheap.”
Henry inhaled a sharp breath, heart clenching in his chest. He wanted so badly to grab Alex, pull him close, but he somehow managed to remain still, watching Edvard stare down the other man.
Something dark and cold flashed in the Duke’s eyes, the charming act completely gone now.
“You think you know him better than I do?” he asked Alex, voice low and threatening. “You think you have any idea what we had?”
“What you guys had was a relationship built on fear and pain. You don’t try to control someone’s every move if you love them,” Alex said. “And, no, you don’t know the true Henry because he was forced to hide away everything good and special about himself when he was around you for fear that you would criticize him at every angle.”
Edvard scowled, his hand balling into a fist. “And you think you’re the one to show him that?” he sneered. “You’re nothing but a distraction. This is the real world, Claremont-Diaz, not some fairytale. You think your little ‘love story’ is going to have some perfectly-wrapped up happy ending?”
Alex smirked at the boy raging in front of him. “I think I stand a much better chance at that than you do.”
Alex held Edvard’s glare without flinching, a cocky, defiant smirk still playing on his lips, one that didn’t come from arrogance, but from absolute certainty.
“Because unlike you,” he said smoothly, “I don’t need Henry to be small so I can feel big. I don’t need him broken to feel in control.”
He turned slightly, glancing back at Henry, just for a second, and the look he gave him could’ve melted steel; soft, proud, and full of fire.
“I love every damn part of him. The way he stutters when he’s nervous. The way he overthinks every speech. The way he cries during dog commercials. The way his hand fits in mine like it was always meant to.”
He stepped forward again until he was almost toe-to-toe with Edvard.
“You never loved Henry,” Alex said coldly. “You just liked owning him. Now get out of this room before I make sure everyone, including your precious royal contacts, know exactly what kind of man you truly are when the cameras aren’t rolling.”
Edvard was silent for a moment.
His jaw clenched. His eyes darkened. A muscle in his cheek ticked.
He wasn’t used to being talked to this way, especially by some upstart American. He was the Duke of bloody Kent, for Christ sake. He was used to people groveling in his presence. To bowing. To obeying his every word.
But the challenge in Claremont-Diaz’s expression said that he didn’t give a damn who he was.
Edvard stood there for another moment, breathing heavily. He was practically vibrating with fury. But Alex didn’t flinch. He never looked away. After a moment, the Duke finally spoke.
“You better pray,” he said softly, “that this doesn’t have consequences for you. Or for your family.”
He gave Henry one last, long look, full of something fierce and bitter, then stalked out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The silence he left in his wake was deafening.
After Edvard was gone, Alex finally exhaled. His heart was racing, his body still wired and coiled like a spring. He turned, meeting Henry’s eyes. He took in the other man’s pale face, the tension still coursing through his body.
He stepped closer to Henry, reaching for his hand.
“Are you okay?” Alex asked softly.
Henry nodded slowly, fingers still shaking. Now that the adrenaline was leaving his system, everything suddenly seemed to hit him all at once.
He’d spent the last couple of years struggling to get over everything that man had done to him. Trying to pick up the shattered pieces and rebuild himself into someone who was more than just the broken boy Edvard had left behind. But one look from Edvard had been all it took to bring all those old insecurities rushing back.
Alex could practically see the thoughts racing through Henry’s mind, all the doubts he’d fought so hard to push down suddenly coming back full force. Alex’s heart ached seeing him this close to breaking again.
He cupped Henry’s cheek with a soft hand, tipping his chin up so their gazes met.
“Hey,” he said gently, “look at me.”
Henry blinked up at him, eyes wide and still glassy with unshed tears. He was breathing too fast; shallow, uneven pants that made his shoulders rise and fall in quick bursts. His hands were clenched so tightly into the fabric of his suit jacket that Alex could see the whites of his knuckles.
“Breathe,” Alex whispered. “Just breathe with me, baby.”
He took a slow breath in through his nose, and then let it out through pursed lips like he’d done whenever Henry had bad panic attacks.
Another deep inhale.
Another slow exhale.
Until finally . . . Henry started to match him as he clung to Alex’s wrists for balance.
“You’re okay,” Alec murmured. “I’m right here.”
“Thank you, Alex,” Henry said, squeezing his boyfriend’s wrists. “For everything. For listening to me explain everything that man did to me . . . For sticking up for me just now . . .”
Alex’s expression softened as he held Henry’s gaze. He brushed a strand of hair off his forehead.
“Of course,” he whispered back, fingers skimming his skin. “We’re a team, remember?” His lips curved into a small smile. “You would’ve done the same for me.”
Alex brushed his thumb along Henry’s cheek, heart clenching at the haunted look still in his eyes. Every muscle in his body still seemed tense, coiled tight with barely contained anxiety.
“C’mon,” he murmured, hand dropping to take Henry’s. “Let’s get back to our room. You need some rest.”
Alex and Henry both knew they still had a lot to discuss about what had happened and how to move forward, but that conversation could wait. Right now, Alex just wanted to get his boyfriend to bed. To hold him close, and make him feel loved.