Prince Harry could not even begin to describe the painful feeling that wailed in his heart. It was like a sharp knife thrust into his chest and, well, twisted! He hoped to believe he had done enough, but he fathomed the definite truth that all that was not enough. It was far from enough. Edward was far ahead of him. He did not even have the slightest remembrance that they were brothers… he never thought that, really. Sometimes, blood was not thicker than, well… love, or a woman, to be precise.
He sat in the drawing room alone, with Beaufort having left, explaining that he'd gone to save someone.
