Princess in Training (Prince Harry #3)

Chapter Sixty-Four

That night, Meredith climbed into bed with Harry, knowing they were off on another journey tomorrow. Harry promised it to be somewhere fun and exciting. He planned out the whole honeymoon, and this was another step as he showed off Africa to her. She liked it here.

"Good night." Harry kissed her cheek. "I love you."

"I love you," Meredith whispered, already tired from their long day.

Harry rolled over, and the lights went out in the white bedroom. Sounds of waves rolled into the bedroom, and Meredith's heart rate matched. Her eyes were closed, and she fell asleep. Even then, she realized it was too quick. Already her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and her eyes glassed over. Before she knew it, tears were running down her face before she knew why or how.

Meredith had the ability to know she was in a dream. In this case, it was a nightmare.

Running, Meredith lodged herself through this perfectly white villa on the beach. Waves crashed against the the shore. A storm loomed overhead. Water splattered against the tiles outside. Slowly, it started to leak into the house, filling the ground floor in an inch of water. Meredith rushed through it, going for the kitchen.

"Harry!" Meredith screamed. Her fingers fumbled with the cupboards as she looked through them. The white villa was filled with white plates, white glasses, white silverware and white napkins. Meredith moved around the kitchen. She knocked into a stool, and they both fell to the ground. Her head smacked against the white tile floor. Water seeped into her lungs.

Black dots filled her vision. Red flowed into the ever higher water. Her body became numb as she floated in the water. The white cloth of her dress drifted past, and she swooped it back. Her eyes found the white ceiling. Black dots turned into white flashes of light as paparazzi stood over her, snapping photos.

"Smile, whore."

"Now there's a good girl. Down where she should be."

"It would be better if she was on her knees."

"Look at the whore."

"So ugly. So fat. Why her?"

"She'll never be good at being royal. Look how stupid she is."

Meredith twisted her head away, looking to the white hallway, where she had just come from. Water lapped against each other as heavy footsteps. The water didn't dare to touch him. Like the dick he was, Jack Campbell leaned against the doorway. Arms crossed his chest. His head cocked to the side. He smiled.

In all honesty, Meredith hadn't thought of Jack Campbell much recently. While sometimes her mind wandered his way, or maybe he got one of his lackies and crazies to come close to her, Meredith didn't think of him. Harry promised he was locked away, and he was-- Meredith reminded herself.

"You're not weak," she repeated to herself. Meredith pushed the paparazzi away as she stood. Dizziness threatened to overtake her. A migraine was coming on. "You're not weak. You're not weak."

"You are weak, Mere," he responded, coming into the kitchen. Water spread out, becoming more. "You've always been weak. Don't lie to yourself."

She swallowed.

"Are you going to stand up to me now, Mere? Are you?" He circled her like prey. "Suddenly, you're going to stand up to me."

"Where's Harry?" Surprisingly, Meredith's voice was strong. It did not waver; it did not hesitate. It took all of her energy. This was the first step to not backing down.

"I'm not sure." Jack Campbell glanced around. He didn't seem to care that water was up to his knees. It made it incredibly hard to move. "I can call him here. Would you prefer that, Mere? You guys can die together."