The Prince and the Girl

There was much chatter and bustle at Clarence House when Gillian had arrived as everyone tried to make last minute preparations for Harry’s trip. Luggage was being laid out, apparently having been so for the past week. Gillian’s clothing, all of it selected and approved by Phillip and Camilla, had also been rented and packed away into designer suitcases borrowed from Kate. The royal family wanted her to look appropriate and so they had offered to pay to rent her a different outfit for each day she was gone, which resulted in a huge pile of suitcases and several dress bags, all piled next to each other in the sitting room. Her wardrobe consisted of gorgeous dresses and skirts, as well as shoes, handbags and even a few hats. A few casual outfits had been slipped in according to the schedule.

Gillian had arrived at Clarence House the day before they were scheduled to leave. She had been escorted politely to a room and her requests to see Harry were consistently denied, always rebuttled by the fact that he was ‘busy’. The entire day was spent in her room, reading old books that she guessed had been placed on the shelves for decoration.

She awoke now, very early, as a small woman threw open the curtains of her room.

“Rise and shine.” She said, turning to Gillian to show a sweet, toothy smile before throwing a white silk bathrobe at her. “Let’s go.”

Gillian put the robe on over her pyjamas and was ushered into a small room, completely at a loss as to why she was there. Makeup brushes, hairdryers and various other cosmetic tools had been neatly arranged on a counter that was backed by a large set of mirrors, rimmed by light bulbs like a vintage actor’s dressing room.

“Sit.” The woman pointed to a hairdresser’s chair before leaving abruptly.

There were a few moments of silence as Gillian slowly lowered herself into the black leather chair. Suddenly a group of girls bustled in, all of them wearing matching white cotton uniforms, except one. She dressed casually, leaving her blonde hai waving about her décolletage. She stood before Gillian, eyeing her judgementally before signalling to one of the girls to hand her something.

The rest of the morning Gillian spent having her hair tugged, cut and died by the team of girls, all led by the casual blonde lady. Soon, they moved on to cosmetics, applying what seemed to Gillian to be an excessive amount of makeup. But, when they held a mirror in front of her, Gillian’s reflection revealed a woman with a beautiful, shiny mane the colour of antique wood that fell in a center part straight down her back. Her cheekbones, minimally rubbed with blush to make them stand out, had been heightened and her eyelids, shimmering with light creamy-coloured shadow opened to reveal almost aquamarine-coloured eyes.

“Wow.” Gillian breathed.

“They don’t call me the best for nothing.” The blonde lady said as she escorted her team out.

Phillip appeared in the doorway as the mass of girls squeezed through. In his hands, he held a dress bag a pair of nude heels.

“Hello, Jill.” He smiled warmly as he hung the garment bag on a hook on the wall and put the shoes on the ground. “I brought you your airport outfit.”

“Thanks, Phil.” Gillian unzipped the garment bag and revealed the sea green chiffon material of the dress. It was beautiful, but no doubt expensive.

“I feel so bad about all these expensive clothes.” Gillian said as she turned back to him. “What if I ruin them somehow?”

Phillip seemed to grimace at the prospect of that. “Gillian, renting out this wardrobe for was not a small cost, and I can guarantee that if you manage to cause any sort of damage to any of the garments, no one will be happy about it. But, I don’t think we’ll be renting clothes for you much longer.” He smiled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gillian asked, grinning.

“Once you’re a duchess, we buy all the clothes instead of renting them.” He laughed and left her to change into the silky dress.

Once changed, Gillian slipped on the nude heels and positioned herself in front of a full length mirror across from the door. The dress suited her very well, its sleeves falling just past her elbows. The chiffon and satin layers came just above her knee, the fabric flowing from a cinch in the fabric at the waist. She smoothed the fabric over her abdomen nervously.

In the reflection of the mirror she saw the door open and Harry stepped into the room, quietly latching the door behind him. There was a moment of silence as they shared an oddly direct gaze without truly looking at each other. Gillian turned around to face, a smile on her face.

“You look …” Harry smiled and paused. “Like royalty.”

Gillian smiled and looked at the floor, her new hair falling like a curtain around her face.

“Are you nervous?” Harry asked, crossing the room to her.

“A little.” Gillian smiled up at him as he leaned in to kiss her.

“You’ll be wonderful.” He said confidently.

•••

Gillian wished Phillip had somehow worked sunglasses into her outfit. Her vision was speckled with blind spots, left there by the numerous camera flashes. Left and right, she could hear people screaming her name; whether they were media or not she didn’t know. Upon looking into the crowds, she could see a few spectators holding signs, most of them referring to Harry, but there were a few bearing her name. One read “I Love Duchess Gillian” while another read “MARRY HER ALREADY”. Gillian smiled, her self-consciousness diminished slightly.

Harry was his usual charismatic self, waving gracefully to the crowds while bearing a regal smile. He walked behind Gillian by a few feet, occasionally stopping to talk with the people. Eventually, he caught up to her and filled her hand with his.

The short distance from the car to the airplane seemed longer than it should have, probably because of the overwhelming number of people and the time Harry took to speak with them. Eventually, they made it to the airplane, got up the stairs and gave one final wave to the crowds, who erupted with further cheering.

•••

The flight was eleven hours long, but it was not your usual cramped flight. The private airplane was spacious and comfortable, with a large bathroom, televisions and plush armchairs. They were accompanied by many staff, all of whom were involved in Harry’s security, the organisation of his schedule and other presumably important things.

Gillian had been instructed by Phillip to change on the plane into the outfit that was let for her in the bathroom. She did not understand why another outfit was required for their landing in Lesotho, but she followed rules. When they were about half an hour away, she slipped out of the green chiffon dress and pulled on a pink one, made of eyelet lace. Over top, she threw on a pink canvas blazer that hugged her hips.

The last stretch of the flight was spent being briefed on their schedule and being reminded of the importance of their good behaviour. Gillian has been prepped by some staff members many weeks ago on the proper etiquette when greeting the Prince of Lesotho and his dignitaries and she was quickly quizzed by one of Harrys assistants who accompanied them.

At last, the plane rattled to the ground and Gillian felt oddly confident. She was prepared, but that was not made her feel so assured. She knew that she would be standing by Harry’s side as his support and she knew that to be effective in that position, she would need to be strong.

As they got off the plane, she saw smaller crowds, held back by barriers, there to greet them. At the bottom of the stairs a line of what was assumedly government workers waited to greet them. Staff scurried about the runway, trying to get all in order, unaware that Gillian was watching them from the small window of their plane.

•••

“Oh,” Gillian said dramatically as she flopped down on one of the beds, “I am exhausted.”

They had spent 30 minutes getting to the hotel and attending a reception for them held there, meeting some of Harry’s charity workers and some of the people who had worked at the orphanage.

“I know, I know.” Harry said as he loosened his tie and sat down on the other bed. “But we do have to get ready for the gala. They’ve only left us half an hour.”

Gillian sat up, her hair now lying inordinately over her forehead. “I suppose I can’t go looking like this, then.” She grinned.

Harry removed his jacket and began to unbutton his shirt, standing in front of the mirror. “I wouldn’t mind.” He laughed, turning to face her.

She stood and crossed the room to him, taking his hands off his shirt and unbuttoning his buttons for him. “Can you believe they gave us two beds?” She said quietly, smiling still.

His chest was bare now as she slid the shirt over his shoulders and it fluttered to the ground. She laid her palms gently on it.

Harry took her hands in his. “I can.” He leaned forward and kissed the crown of her head. “But they needn’t have.” His whisper permeated her skin and he leaned forward again, this time kissing the tip of her nose.

“I should get changed, I guess.” Gillian said as Harry’s grip did not loosen on her hands.

“You should.” Harry responded and held on a second longer. “Your dress is hanging in the bathroom, I think. And the rest of your luggage is by the door.”

Like a gentleman, he left her to change in privacy. Hanging in the bathroom was the day’s third garment bag, and Gillian knew what was waiting for her inside it. It was the first of a series of gorgeous dresses that had been selected for occasions such as these – dinners or parties with important members of the government.

It was a high-collared black dress that hit just above her knees. A white belt cinched across her waist, pulling the square-cut black fabric over the white sides of the dress. Her hair fell over the shoulders, curling elegantly as her natural hair began to seep through the extensive styling of the morning.

Barefoot, leaving her shoes and clothes in the bedroom, Gillian walked out to the sitting room where she found Harry tucking his shirt in. She found her largest suitcase and tipped it over on to its side, unzipping it. She dug through it, dresses and shirts spilling out over the edge. She quickly realised that what she was looking for was not there. She opened the next suitcase, one size down, to find all of her shoes and bags. She paired the dress with a simple pair of black heels that belonged to her and a blue suede clutch, stitched with rectangular blue sequins and gold beading.

Harry, now putting on his jacket, with his untied bowtie hanging around his neck, turned to look at her.

“You are beautiful.” He smiled as she returned to the bathroom, makeup bag in hand.

She stopped in doorway and looked back at him, beaming. “So are you.”

•••

As Gillian stepped out of the car with her hand in Harry’s, what she saw was not what she had expected.

The venue was small and crowded, it seemed, with an open patio to the side of it. Music was very obviously being pumped out of large speakers into the night sky. Twinkle lights hung everywhere. This was not the kind of gala that Gillian had expected.

“Are we in the right place?” She asked over the music.

Harry grinned devilishly. “Oh yeah.”

He put a hand on her back and guided her to the door of the small building while cameras followed them relentlessly.

“Harry!” A very tall man standing at the entrance shouted, enveloping him in a bear hug.

“Khabane,” Harry said as he was released, “This is Gillian.”

Khabane grinned hugely down at Gillian. “So you are the little princess.” He swallowed Gillian in a huge hug, just as he had Harry.

As he released her, he pointed inside with a toothy grin. “Welcome to the party. The Prince of Lesotho is waiting.”