Prince Harry, staggering and lightly caressing the sides of his arms as if feeling the cold of London, walked through the Somerset compound. His mind lingered on what he would say to Edward. Congrats, brother! And he would place a forced smile. Or perhaps, What did you see in her? What does she see in you that is not quite in me? That would be quite desperate... and he needed, all the while, not to sound desperate, but happy. Happy that Edward had finally won the jostle.
He walked past the Somerset pavement, through the vases that held well-trimmed flowers, and inwardly wondered how Lady Somerset might react if a man gave her flowers. She would probably spit, or did she get shy? He silently laughed at that, then turned his eyes to the front of the compound. Though dimly lit, it was still easy enough for his eyes to see.
