Chapter Twenty-Five
Harry thought he'd be nervous. After all, it was a very nerve-wracking thing, having a private audience with the king. And not only that, Harry had requested this private audience to ask the king permission to marry his granddaughter.
But Harry also knew that the king was just like any other politician he had the misfortune of working with in his role as head of Foreign Intelligence. And he'd met the king before and knew quite well that he adored Ruth and seemingly already approved of Harry. Ruth had told him that her grandfather had encouraged her to accept Harry's very first invitation for dinner. Surely that was a good sign. And so because he could view this as just another meeting with someone in government and the permission he needed was hopefully guaranteed, Harry felt no nerves whatsoever as he travelled to the palace that day.
He'd left work early, being sure to have his uniform in perfect order before setting out. Wearing it was a comfort in things like this. Ruth looked at him curiously when he left, but he didn't say anything to her. She knew his calendar and he had merely blocked the time out for a private appointment. And he had not made plans with her that evening. He wanted to be able to have some time to himself to make arrangements after speaking with her grandfather. Assuming he did give Harry the permission he sought, Harry would need to plan a proper proposal. The first attempt had not been received well at all. And he had also promised Catherine that she could help pick out the ring.
"Sir Harry Pearce to see the king," he told the guard outside the palace gates. "I have an appointment." It felt a stupid thing to say, but Harry knew he had to go through the motions.
He was waved in by fancily dressed guards. One of them took his car in the most outrageously overly formal valet service he'd ever experienced. Another then led him inside the beautiful grand palace and up the stairs. Harry realized quite suddenly that he was being led not to the ballroom where they'd had the state dinner two weeks earlier, thank goodness, but horrifyingly to the throne room where Harry had been knighted many years before. He'd not expected such pomp and circumstance. But perhaps that was the point. Harry got the feeling that a show was being put on for him. Its effect was likely not the one that was intended. He did not feel nervous or intimidated, but rather mildly exhausted at the pointless pageantry of it all. But if this was what it took to prove himself worthy of marrying the princess, he'd make a good showing.
Harry was made to wait outside the ornate gilded doors. He assumed there was some kind of alerting system that would signal when the king was ready for him. And sure enough, a single chime, almost like from a clock, sounded by the door and Harry was ushered inside.
The throne room looked much as he remembered from when he'd received his knighthood. Presumably such things did not change very often. The red velvet upholstery and gilded walls with polished mirrors, the gleaming marble floor, all of it was quite grand. Grander than anything Harry had ever seen since the last time he'd been in this room.
But he did not let himself get distracted by their surroundings. Harry walked confidently toward the throne where King Richard sat in all his regal glory. He stopped at a respectful distance and bowed. "Good afternoon, Your Majesty," he greeted.
"And to you, Sir Harry," the king replied. "I understand you requested this private audience for a very specific purpose."
"Yes, sir," Harry answered. He straightened his posture and squared his shoulders. "I have come to seek your permission to ask Princess Louisa's hand in marriage."
King Richard gave just the smallest hint of a smile at that. "And why is it you want to marry the princess?"
Harry had been prepared for this. He was not deluded enough to think that he would not have to explain and prove himself. The answer to this particular question was a very simple one and he gave it simply and honestly. "Because I love her, Your Majesty."
"You were married once before, I understand."
He nodded. "I was. It was not a very happy marriage much of the time, for which I take full responsibility. When Jane asked me for a divorce, I agreed. And since that time, she has unfortunately passed away."
"But you think this marriage would be different?" the king pressed.
"I never intended to ever marry again," Harry admitted. "I was not looking to fall in love. But I do not think it is a surprise to you, Your Majesty, that Ruth is very special. I love her very deeply, and my children adore her as well. They want very much for her to join our family."
That seemed to please the king. But his questioning was not finished. "And what about you joining this family?"
"I will confess I do not know as much about Ruth's family and all that it entails, but I do not ever want to stand in the way of what she wants or needs. I am prepared to support her in whatever duties she must fulfill as princess. I only want to be with her until my dying day."
"With her and only her?"
Oh he was well informed, wasn't he? Harry was actually glad to know that the king had been fully informed of Harry's past. Someone must have had a devil of a time looking into him. There was plenty to find, Harry knew. "Yes, Your Majesty," Harry replied. He remained calm, despite the awkwardness of addressing his past infidelity with the grandfather of the woman he wanted to marry. "I will admit that my daughter had the same concern when she first found out that I had embarked on a romantic relationship, but I am prepared to swear to anyone of consequence who may doubt me that I cannot fathom being unfaithful to Ruth." And that was very much the truth. Harry was at an age where the excitement of conquest to bed a woman had lost its appeal. His eye did not wander as it had when he'd been married to Jane. He was to busy and too tired to even contemplate any dalliances. And beyond that, he had everything he could ever possibly want in Ruth. He had no reason to look elsewhere.
The king did not pursue that line of questioning any further, to Harry's relief. Instead, he went in a different direction. "You know, you are a great deal older than she is…"
Well that statement he didn't enjoy at all. "I am very aware, yes," he replied, doing his best not to start grumbling. "Thus far, it has not mattered between us at all. And I hope that it will only ever matter in that it gives me far fewer days to spend with her when I've grown too old for this life."
King Richard gave a small nod in approval. "And what if she were to become queen?"
That was one question Harry had not expected at all. "Will she?"
"No, it's highly unlikely. But her father, my son, is very ill and may not even survive me. And if my elder son doesn't get around to having any heirs sometime soon, Ruth will become next in line for the throne after Edmund. What if Ruth becomes queen after you are married to her?" he asked again.
Harry swallowed hard at that, trying not to let the nightmare of it infiltrate his mind too much. "I think she'd be a wonderful queen. And if that fate befalls us, we shall face it then." There wasn't much else he could say at that point. Setting aside the idea that Ruth's father was ill, something Harry did not know and would not have guessed, having Ruth become queen was something of a worst-case scenario. Harry did truly believe she would make a wonderful queen; she was so intelligent and kind and her decisions were always measured and as fair as she could make them. She was the sort of person who could inspire others to listen and to follow her lead. But she was also the sort of person who would absolutely hate to be in a position of authority over others. She liked to ask the opinion of others and provide input rather than make decisions herself. And, of course, she despised the spotlight of her royal status. She did her duties well, but she did not enjoy it. Being queen was not a fate Harry would ever wish for her. And being a royal consort was not a fate he wished on himself.
The king sat there, quietly smiling at Harry for a moment. "I can see that you are not intimidated by any of this."
"Will all due respect, Your Majesty, you know what I faced in the war that earned me the knighthood you bestowed. A nice man in a lavishly decorated room is not something that readily strikes fear into me."
King Richard laughed a great booming laugh which Harry found contagious enough to crack a smile at. The king stood up from his throne and walked towards Harry. "Come along, let's continue this in my study," he said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder.
Harry walked with the king, feeling like this had gone much better than he'd expected. He knew that Ruth loved her grandfather very much, and seeing him like this helped fill in the gaps quite nicely. They went through a door on the other end of the throne room and through another maze of corridors to finally end up in the king's private study. It was decorated in dark, masculine woods and surprisingly clean lines as compared to the ornateness of everything else in the palace. In fact, it looked not too unlike Harry's own office at Foreign Intelligence.
The king offered a chair to Harry and took his own behind the desk. "Now then, I will of course give you my permission to marry our Ruthie. There's some blasted decree I'll have to sign that's presented to the Legislature on your wedding day. I just went through all this with Edmund about four years ago now. And still no children," the king grumbled. "But I think more importantly, I wanted to give you this."
Harry watched curiously as the king unlocked a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small leather box. He passed it across to Harry, who opened it cautiously. Inside was an enormous diamond ring.
"That was the ring I had designed by the royal jeweler to propose to Ruth's grandmother over fifty years ago. I was only a crown prince at the time and I had to ask my father's permission to marry, which was quite a chore in those days. And he told me that I would one day be king and I should have a ring made that would be befitting of the future queen. This was what I came up with."
"It's beautiful, Your Majesty," Harry replied. But he hesitated awkwardly.
The king noticed. "But?"
"It's just that…" The ring was beautiful. It really was. It had an enormous oval diamond in the center, it was set in platinum with almost overpoweringly intricate filigree, and it had even more diamonds in rows all around the band. "I don't think it's really Ruth's style," Harry said delicately.
To his surprise, King Richard smiled. "You're right. Ruthie's not the fancy type at all. But if you wanted to take some of the stones from that ring to have another designed for her, I think that would be best. Ruth is my only grandchild so far, but I already know she shall always be my favorite. And I want her to have a part of this ring. If you prefer to buy something else yourself, I hope you'll give this ring to her another time. I don't like it sitting in a vault all the time, but I do agree that Ruth would never wear it."
Harry felt the enormous faith that was being entrusted to him by the king with this. "I think I will use these stones for another ring. She has spoken about her grandmother, and I know how special she was to Ruth. My daughter, Catherine, is a very creative person, and when I discussed the possibility of proposing to Ruth, Catherine asked if she could help me choose the ring. I'm sure she'll have some very good ideas of how to design something with this."
The king seemed very pleased at that. "Ruth will like that, I think." He stood up and reached his hand across the desk. "I know you'll take some time with the ring and such, but might I be the first to welcome you into the family, Harry?"
The use of his first name without a title was not lost on him. Harry stood up and shook the king's hand. "Thank you very much, Your Majesty."
"And we'll figure out later what you can call me that isn't 'Your Majesty' because that'll just be exhausting for all of us."
Harry laughed at that. "Of course. Thank you, sir."
The king pressed a button on his desk and a guard opened the door. Harry gave a final bow—since the guard was there to witness after all—and allowed himself to be led out of the study and back out to his car. The queen's ring was safe in its box in Harry's pocket.