4. H E N R Y

1.       HENRY

As the tension simmers in the air, I can't shake off the unease gnawing at me. Ashby's unexpected absence and his cryptic explanation only add fuel to the fire of my suspicions. My mind races with unanswered questions, each one more unsettling than the last.

With a frustrated sigh, I turn to Archie, hoping for some clarity or reassurance, but his attention remains fixed on his phone, oblivious to my mounting frustration.

"Where the hell have you been?" I demand as Ashby finally arrives, his nonchalant demeanour only serving to aggravate me further.

His response sends a jolt of disbelief coursing through me. Penelope's house? What business did he have there? And more importantly, why wasn't I informed?

Attempting to quell the rising tide of anger threatening to consume me, I press for clarification, my voice tinged with a hint of suspicion.

Ashby's dismissive retort only adds fuel to the fire, his frustration mirroring my own as he defends his actions with growing agitation.

With a growl of frustration, I storm out of the lounge, the weight of uncertainty and insecurity pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket.

Despite my best efforts to maintain composure, the realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I sound possessive, possessive, and insecure, traits unbefitting of a king. But she's going to be my queen, and I refuse to let anyone, least of all Ashby or any other man, interfere with that.

Gathering what remains of my composure, I make my way to the car, the weight of the impending meeting hanging heavily over me like a dark cloud. Today, of all days, I need to keep my head straight, to focus on the task at hand.

As the twins join me in the car, I steel myself for the challenges ahead, determined to navigate the murky waters of politics with unwavering resolve and determination. But deep down, a seed of doubt lingers, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed facade of confidence I've worked so hard to maintain.

As Archie's words sink in, I can't help but feel a pang of guilt for my overreaction. He's right; my protective instincts may have gotten the better of me, but it doesn't excuse my behaviour.

"Yeah, you're right," I admit begrudgingly, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "I just... I don't want anyone messing things up between us."

Archie's eyebrow quirks in response, a knowing glint in his eye. His words hit home, a stark reminder of the reality I've been avoiding. If I don't make a move soon, I risk losing any chance I might have with Penelope.

"I know, I need to do something about it," I concede, swallowing my pride. "And Penny told me she and Ashby are just friends."

A wave of relief washes over me as Ashby brushes off my apology with characteristic ease. He's always been the level-headed one, able to see through the tangled web of emotions to the heart of the matter.

"Yeah, no worries, mate," he reassures me, his grin putting me at ease. "You're just looking out for her, and that's commendable.

I can't help but admire Ashby's calm demeanour, his unwavering support a welcome comfort in the midst of my turmoil.

"So, when can I see her?" I inquire eagerly, the prospect of finally being able to talk to Penelope filling me with a sense of anticipation.

Ashby shrugs nonchalantly, his casual demeanour belying the importance of his words. "Well, she works during the week, so you'll have to check with her."

A surge of curiosity courses through me as I ponder the details of Penelope's life, my mind racing with questions about her work and daily routine.

"Where does she work? What does she do?" I press, eager for any scrap of information about the woman who's captured my attention.

The boys share a knowing look before bursting into laughter, their amusement at my curiosity only fuelling my determination to learn more about Penelope.

"Guess you'll have to find out for yourself, mate," Ashby teases, pulling out his phone with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

I nod eagerly, eager to take matters into my own hands. "Yeah, send me her number."

Throughout the rest of the drive, I can't shake the feeling of anticipation, my mind consumed with thoughts of Penelope and the prospect of finally getting to know her better.

As we arrive at the Governor's office, I can't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards Ashby and Archie. They've been by my side through thick and thin, their unwavering support a constant source of strength in my life.

As I wait in the lobby, the anticipation of the upcoming meeting weighs heavily on my shoulders. However, with Ashby and Archie by my side, I feel a sense of reassurance, knowing that I have their unwavering support.

Familiar faces pass by, offering nods of acknowledgment as they make their way into the meeting hall. Among them, a striking young woman catches my eye. With her dark chocolate skin, pixie cut, and hazel brown eyes, she exudes an undeniable allure as she glides past me with a food and beverage cart.

Her hips sway enticingly, the short skirt accentuating her long legs as she stands beside me, offering refreshments. I can't help but feel drawn to her, her seductive look stirring something within me.

"Would you like anything to drink, Your Highness?" she purrs, biting her bottom lip in a playful gesture.

I meet her gaze with a suggestive grin, unable to resist the temptation. "How about you, my dear?" I wink.

Her giggle is like music to my ears as she fetches me a cup of coffee, her movements graceful and alluring. As she hands me the cup, along with sugar packets and a spoon, I'm struck by her beauty.

"What's your name, dear?" I inquire, captivated by her presence.

"Priscilla," she replies, her voice soft and sultry.

"You are absolutely beautiful, Priscilla," I remark, unable to hide my admiration.

Despite the allure of the moment, a sense of unease gnaws at the back of my mind. Ashby's disapproving gaze burns into the side of my head, but I push aside any thoughts of his judgment. As the King, I'm entitled to pursue my desires, regardless of others' opinions.

I exchange numbers with Priscilla, unable to resist the temptation of her company. With a playful swat to her backside, she saunters away, leaving me to face the disapproving glances of the twins.

"It's showtime, boys," I quip, flashing them a cheeky smile as I prepare to enter the meeting hall.

The ensuing hours are a blur of debates, discussions, and political obligations. While I excel in the realm of politics, my personal life remains a source of frustration. As the deadline for my marriage approaches, I find myself grappling with the pressure to find a suitable partner.

Despite my reluctance to embrace the responsibilities of kingship, I know that I must rise to the occasion. With only two months and a week left to fulfil my obligations, time is of the essence, and the weight of expectation hangs heavy on my shoulders.

As we settle into the limo, Archie's sarcasm breaks the post-meeting silence. I can't help but chuckle at his remark, knowing full well he wasn't the most engaged during our discussions.

"I couldn't help it, it was boring," Archie defends himself, prompting a shake of the head from Ashby.

"You're unusually quiet," Ashby observes, turning his attention to me.

I laugh, "Just enjoying the banter between you idiots."

Our plans for the evening are quickly settled, with the consensus being to head home for some much-needed relaxation. The prospect of continuing our Call of Duty marathon is met with unanimous agreement, and I'm eager to dive back into the game.

Once home, I receive a message from Priscilla, sparking a brief exchange as we arrange to meet later that evening. I discreetly respond to her message, not wanting to divulge the details to my companions.

Ashby's curiosity gets the better of him, and he questions me about the identity of the person I'm texting. I brush off his inquiry, opting to keep my personal affairs private.

Archie, however, isn't so easily deterred. He admonishes me for my promiscuous behaviour, insisting that if I'm serious about pursuing Penelope, I need to put an end to my casual encounters.

Feeling defensive, I push back against Archie's criticism, asserting my autonomy over my own choices.

Upon our arrival home, I waste no time retreating to my room to change and make the necessary arrangements for my rendezvous with Priscilla. Once the details are confirmed, I slip into more casual attire and head downstairs to join the boys in the game room.

As I enter the room, I find Ashby engaged in a phone call, a smile gracing his features. I can't help but wonder what or who has him in such high spirits, but I decide not to pry, choosing instead to focus on the gaming session that awaits us.

Tensions rise in the room as I confront Ashby about his phone call, suspicion gnawing at me like a persistent itch. Archie, ever the picture of nonchalance, remains focused on his snacks, offering little in the way of clarification.

"It's Penelope, isn't it?" I press, my frustration mounting with each shrug he offers in response.

Finally, Ashby ends his call and joins us, a self-satisfied smile playing on his lips as he exchanges pleasantries with Penelope. My annoyance flares, but I swallow it down, determined not to let it show.

As Ashby moves toward the bar, I can't contain my simmering resentment any longer. I confront him, my voice laced with a volatile edge.

"I wouldn't have to give you any look if you weren't talking to my girl," I retort, my fists clenched at my sides.

His response is cool, calculated, and it only serves to stoke the flames of my anger. I resist the urge to lash out physically, my frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

"She's not your girl, Henry," Ashby counters, stepping closer, his proximity a taunt. "And if she was, she'd be the one coming here, not that whore."

The words hit me like a sucker punch, and for a moment, all I can see is red. The implication cuts deep, striking at the heart of my pride and igniting a wildfire of fury within me.

"I can do whatever I want, with whoever I want," I growl, my voice low and menacing.

But even as the words leave my lips, I know they're hollow, a feeble attempt to mask the raw ache of jealousy and insecurity that gnaws at me from within.

The air crackles with tension as Ashby's words hang in the air, a challenge poised on the tip of his tongue. My blood boils, the sting of his accusation a bitter pill I struggle to swallow. But before I can respond, Archie steps in, a voice of reason in the midst of our escalating confrontation.

As Ashby and I stand chest to chest, his words cutting through the air like a knife, I feel a surge of anger pulsing through my veins. How dare he speak to me like that? How dare he question my authority, my entitlement?

"What did you call me?" I demand, my voice low and dangerous, a warning laced with barely restrained fury.

But Ashby's defiance only serves to stoke the flames of my rage. His laughter, mocking and derisive, pushes me over the edge, igniting a firestorm of fury within me. Without a second thought, I lash out, my fist connecting with his jaw in a vicious blow.

The impact reverberates through the room, but before I can revel in my retaliation, Ashby strikes back, his own fist connecting with a force that sends me reeling backward. I stumble, the taste of blood filling my mouth, but I refuse to stay down. With a surge of adrenaline, I push myself to my feet, ready to continue the fight.

But before I can launch another attack, Archie intervenes, his voice cutting through the chaos like a beacon of reason in the storm. His words are a harsh reminder of the consequences of our actions, a stark warning against the path of violence and destruction we tread.

I glance at Ashby, his fists still clenched in anger, and I know that despite our differences, despite the animosity that simmers between us, we both understand the futility of our conflict. With a heavy sigh, I release the tension that grips my muscles, allowing the anger to ebb away like water receding from the shore.

As the adrenaline fades, I feel the ache of my bruised jaw, a tangible reminder of the consequences of my actions. I meet Ashby's gaze, a silent acknowledgment passing between us, a fragile truce forged in the aftermath of our clash.

The weight of Archie's words hangs heavy in the air, a sobering reminder of the consequences of my actions. As he speaks, his voice carries a note of authority tempered with concern, a stark contrast to the anger and frustration that had fuelled our earlier confrontation.

I listen in silence, the gravity of his words sinking in with each passing moment. He's right, of course—he always is. Ashby's accusations, however infuriating, were not unfounded. I've allowed my ego and entitlement to cloud my judgment, to the point where I've alienated those closest to me.

But as Archie lays out his plan for redemption, a glimmer of hope flickers within me. Perhaps there's still a chance to salvage my reputation, to prove to Ashby and the others that I'm capable of change.

I nod slowly, acknowledging the truth in Archie's words. It won't be easy, but if I'm going to win back Ashby's trust—and Penny's affections—I'll need to start by making amends. And that means swallowing my pride, admitting my mistakes, and taking responsibility for my actions.

"Okay," I reply, my voice tinged with resignation, "I'll cancel the booty call. And I'll apologize to Ashby."

Archie's expression softens, a hint of relief crossing his features. It's clear that he's been worried about me, about the path of self-destruction I've been treading. But with his guidance, perhaps there's still hope for redemption.

"Good," he says, a note of approval in his voice, "I'm glad to hear it. Just remember, Henry—you're capable of more than you realize. You just have to be willing to put in the effort."

I meet his gaze, a silent promise forming in my heart. I may have stumbled along the way, but I refuse to let my mistakes define me. With Archie's support—and a healthy dose of humility—I'll prove to everyone that I'm worthy of the crown I wear.