Worth Loving

Chapter 6: A Whole New Light

Hermione turned around with a gasp as her eyes toppled with the Prince of Troy's emerald green ones. He was seated by a window, polishing his sword. The trail of moonlight illuminated his face features and he did not seem so cold anymore.

"You...uh...I did not know..." Hermione could not find her words. Being alone around a foreign palace was bad enough, not to mention the little wine accident earlier.

Harry let out an amused laugh at her puzzled face.

"It's Harry," he repeated his name, "If we are, as you say, going to be seen our faces for time to come, we might as well drop the formalities."

"All right, Harry. Listen, I have been meaning to apologise for your little...face splash earlier," Hermione stuttered. There was something about him that made her tremble when she was around him. Maybe it was those hypnotising eyes...

"Forgotten. Now, want to tell me what are you doing out of your chambers at these hours?"

"I cannot sleep, happy?" She was getting uncomfortable by the tone of voice he was using.

"I see. You take warm milk before sleeping or something?" He stood up from his spot, giving her a full view of his built body.

"No! I just would like to be alone for a minute if you don't mind." Hermione faced him as they were inches away, their eyes challenging one another.

"Well, actually I do mind, because if Alexandra finds you here, she is going to go berserk," Harry said matter of factly.

"Fine, I will go then." Hermione proceeded to walk, but Harry caught her arm.

"Something to matter? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're not comfortable here," he said, his mind marvelling at how soft her skin felt against his fingertips.

"I thought you had your mind set that I was here looking another throne puppet," Hermione did not conceal her sarcasm.

"I still do. Call it curiosity."

"Well, for your curiosity, your highness, no I am not. I am no more keen with this command than your dear queen is. I never wanted to come here. My father made me. Plus, I thought I was better at diplomacy and royal affairs than him or my uncle. Believe me, I am quickly changing my mind. Good night."

"You did not want to come here because...were you afraid of dirtying your dress?" Harry gave her an arrogant sneer.

"A word of advice, your highness: do not bicker about matters that you do not know, much less understand. It will save you millions of problems as future king."

"I will not be..."

"You do not know me and I would rather it stayed that way."

****

Hermione was up at dawn. She had had a troubled sleep, not to mention she slept in a

strange place as it was. Nevertheless, she got up, washed herself with warm water, and put on Trojan clothes while tying her hair back in a knot. As it was a pretty warm day, she opted for a pink attire with a white mantel on top.

Satisfied with her appearance, Hermione exited the guest room. Her stomach was rumbling, as she had not had much to eat last night. But there was no way she was going into the kitchen alone.

"Fleur, wake up!" Hermione turned and tossed her sister.

"Mom?" Fleur moaned sleepily, crabbing the pillow and resuming her slumber.

"Very funny. Get out of bed this instant!"

"Oh, shut up," Fleur whined. So Hermione decided to try a different tactic.

"Ooh, are those puffy eyes I see?" Suffice to say, Fleur was out of bed in an instant.

"They are not!" she protested as she heard Hermione laugh. She took a mirror and

glanced at her reflection. No puffiness in sight. "Not funny!"

"Actually it is. Your face was priceless."

"What did you do that for?"

"It is time for breakfast."

"Good for you. Go then and let me sleep."

"Oh no. You are coming with me."

After a lot of protest, Fleur finally got out of the bathroom, wearing a bright yellow attire with a red mantel, her hair combed straight to her waist.

****

"Good morning Hermione, Fleur," Oliver smiled at them as they toppled against each other.

"Well, my morning has certainly taken a brighter turn," Fleur smiled seductively in return.

"Hey Oliver, had a good night?" asked a relieved Hermione. At least Oliver was here.

"Yes, I slept. See you did not." He looked at Hermione's tired face.

"I will live, after I get some tea in my system."

"Oh, I was getting breakfast myself. We take it in the royal gardens. Come on."

****

The royal gardens were surrounded by beautiful flowers, and it was quite an inviting place to have breakfast. Much better than the dining room, that was for sure.

Oliver took a seat next to Harry while Fleur took a seat next to him. Hermione just seated across Oliver. She did not want the prince to be a splash victim again if the queen decided to open that mouth of hers.

Harry glanced at Hermione and, for reasons unknown even to himself at that point, gave her a rare, thin smile. However, she chose to ignore the gesture and focus on her fruit plate. Luckily enough, it was a peaceful meal, at least until the queen's mouth sprang open.

"Oh Harmonia, your father sent you your horses. Perhaps his way of saying he wants you to go back to Sparta," she sneered. But Hermione had her own smart retort today.

"Great, I am in the mood for riding today. Tell me your majesty, which are Troy's better riding spots?" she smiled. While she was here, Hermione might as well content herself with making the queen's life miserable.

"Pardon me?"

"Well, if I am going to pick a ruler, I need to know what kind of kingdom I am dealing with. A little tour might do me good, do you think not? You would like that, right Fleur?" Hermione looked at her sister.

"I think not. You will get lost," Alexandra affirmed.

"Well, come with us then," Hermione smiled sarcastically, "Nobody knows the kingdom better than you."

"Plus, you could use some sun on your face," Fleur whispered.

"Absolutely not! I do not ride! Besides, I got royal affairs to take care of. Harry is a great rider. He can take you." Harry glowered as soon as he registered what his aunt had just said. He did not want to ride with Helen's daughters! What was his aunt thinking? He glowered at her again, but the queen's lips spelled a desperate get them out of here plead. "Right Harry?" Alexandra asked him aloud, but he knew it more of a command than a simple inquiry.

"Sure," Harry answered, displaying a grim face when he glanced at Hermione again.

Instinctively, she tightened her mantel against her shoulders.

"We better get going then." Hermione stood up.

"Oliver, join us, why don't you?" Fleur invited him, her mouth displaying another seductive smile.

"What?" Oliver could not help but be a little disappointed at that invitation. He was actually looking forward to some time alone with his arch and arrows.

However, for once, Hermione agreed with her sister whereas Harry would welcome any company at the moment.

"Good idea, come with," said Hermione happily.

"Please do," Harry agreed.

****

Before they knew it, they were at the stable, saddling the horses.

"Nemesis, come on," Hermione tamed her horse, trying to mount her.

"Nice name. What is it for?" Harry petted her horse while he stared into the princess' chocolate eyes.

"No real reason. Just thinking maybe if I am good, the goddess will grant me a real life and I will not only be the happy medium between my father and his brother and between Troy and Sparta. Maybe she will even answer my questions," Hermione answered, but her eyes did not meet his.

"About Paris, I presume? Right," Harry scoffed, taking the liberty of lifting Hermione onto her saddle.

"I could have mounted myself!" she shouted in indignation.

"What, and rip your pretty garment? I think not," he sneered in amusement.

"Do not underestimate me Prince Harry, you might be surprised." Her eyes locked with his, her expression guarded, but challenging.

"Is that right? Dreading the day that happens then." He mounted his own mare, taking the lead.

While Harry and Hermione were involved in their own argument, Fleur made Oliver ride in the same horse as her, with the pretext that she did not know how to ride a horse very well. Finally, the Troy horse trip began.

****

They arrived to a beautiful spot by a lake and Harry decided it was time to rest the horses.

Hermione found herself looking through her mother's diary again while Fleur took a dip in the lake. Oliver opted for target practice with his bow and Harry practiced his daily sword routine.

Hermione kept her eyes glued to the diary as she read a passage about Paris for the thousandth time. She was dying to know more about him, the Trojan who had won her mother's heart, something her father could never do. However, she was not at peace for long, for suddenly, she felt a sword clash by her side as Harry stood beside her, his arms crossed.

"The horses have rested enough. We need to get going before sun sets," he said.

"Fine. Give me a minute."

"What are you reading?" he dared to ask, although he already suspected the answer.

"No concern of yours."

"You know, you are never going to find the answers you seek out in a book. Paris' personality cannot be found in books, or memoirs."

"I see. Why is that?" Hermione spat.

"Because his own parents did not get a chance to know him, thus your mother knew him even less."

"I think she knew him quite enough." Hermione closed the book harshly, her eyes throwing daggers at Harry.

"Really?" Harry chose not to pay attention to her rude gesture. "She was with him for what, seven, ten years at the most? And half of that time, he was not with her. Do you think you would get to know a person over such a short period of time?"

"She did," she whispered, her anger flaring.

"Princess, just because she got him in bed does not mean she got to know him. It does not work that way."

Hermione stood up, anger invading her body, and smoothed her skirt, holding her mom's diary close to her heart. How dare he make such an assumption? He had just called her mother a trollop!

"Are you getting to some kind of a point, Harry? Because I really do not wish to hear about your bed philosophy."

"Just that you cannot keep your life book centred. There is more to go around."

"Well, books have worked fine these nineteen years, thank you very much."

"You are in for a big disappointment," Harry sneered again.

"Hopefully, you will not be around to see it!" She turned on her heel and began walking, but Harry's voice stopped her abruptly.

"They still will not give you the knowledge you seek. Books cannot answer questions of a personal nature."

"Pardon?" She turned around.

"You want facts, right? You want a why. You want to know if your mother's quest was worth it. You want to know if your own trip here is worth it. You are dealing with feelings. You will not find those in a book, I can assure you of that."

"Well, I am pretty close! Sure I would love to know more, but hell, I hardly even knew my mother, and much less Troy. I never knew Paris, so I guess I will never know if he was truly worth my mother's life."

"But I did." Harry leaned against a tree as Hermione's eyes opened wide. "He died when I was ten."