The Thrill Is Gone

“Will that be all, Ma’am?” Helen inquired softly, in a voice she reserved strictly for Her Majesty. “Or would you perhaps care for a few pastries to be brought in?”

“There’s no need for pastries. Not with the biscuits at hand.” She paused, taking a moment to glance towards the door. “There is another matter which I desire you to attend to. I wish for you to check on Branson. I believe he is taking far too long in fetching the young lady, far too long for my liking.”

“I’ll check on him directly, Ma’am.” Helen smiled reassuringly. “If you’ll excuse me,” and with that, she curtsied politely. “I’ll be on my way.”

Helen had barely made it a few yards down the hall when Branson suddenly came into view. He was the first to turn the corner, his head held high as he did so, and he was shortly followed by Paulina, whom appeared even more unkempt than what Branson had described her as. Her hair was a mess of wild curls that fell well below her shoulders, she wore an ill fitting football jersey that seemed one size to large, and her pants were stained with what seemed to be cheese. She was an absolute disaster, and Helen had half a mind to give the young woman a thorough scrubbing before she was taken before the Queen.

“Helen? What are you doing here?” asked Branson when he noticed her.

“I’ve just come from the sitting room.” She informed him. “And I was on my way to check on you. Her Majesty believes you have taken far too long in fetching Miss Balcázar.”

“Far too long?” his brow furrowed, slightly. He didn’t believe he’d taken long, it had hardly been any time at all, but he decided the Queen must have been eager to get the meeting done with, and as a result of that, time began to pass slowly for her. “Well, I shan’t keep Her Majesty waiting much longer. If you’ll excuse us,” he tilted his head slightly at his old friend. “Come along, Miss Balcázar. It’s not far now.”

Paulina walked on, not the slightest bit nervous at the impending encounter. She’d always thought she’d break into a panic if she ever got the chance to meet the Queen, that her nerves would get the best of her, and she’d be sweating nonstop, but there she was, just a few steps behind Branson, perspiration free and not obsessing over how the meeting was going to turn out, if she was going to make a good impression.

Making a good impression was no longer any of her concern. She wasn’t going to kiss her ass and be overly polite. She was going to tell her off for having ordered the security to take her from her home and bring her to Sandringham. She was going to run at the mouth, and though she’d surely regret it the next morning, at that point in time, it was all she wanted to do.

“Wait here.” Branson ordered when they reached the massive wooden door that kept them from the Queen. “I shall announce your arrival and then come fetch you. Understood?”

“I’ve been introduced to Prince Charles. I'm pretty sure I know how this thing works,” she snapped, irritated by the condescending tone in which she spoke to her. “Go on, introduce me, I’ll wait right here. I promise.”

“Miss Balcázar,” he said her name slowly, as if he were a headmaster that was about to threaten her with suspension. “You will do well to mind your manners.”

“It’s difficult to mind one’s manners when one was kidnapped from their home. Don’t you think? Or should I be cheerful about the fact that I was handcuffed, and driven here against my will?” she shot back, keeping her tone light.

His eyes widened in shock. “Kidnapped?”

“Go introduce me,” she told him, not in the mood to explain things. “Go on, I'm sure you get a kick out of this part. It’s grand. Isn’t it? Introducing people, being part of tradition?” she asked, though she expected no response. “I bet you love that you get to be a part of it all. It gives you a sense of importance. That’s why you feel you can be condescending to people.”

“Miss, I never intended to –”

“Of course, you didn’t,” she cut him off. “Go. I'm tired of waiting.”

He looked upon her in new light. Unsure as to whether he ought to believe that she had been forcibly brought against her will or if he should go on thinking of her as he previously had. He’d have to talk to Helen about it. Together, they would form an opinion of the young woman. But for now, he pushed his shoulders back, lifted his chin ever so slightly, and then opened the door.

“Your Majesty,” he spoke, tone full of respect. “May I present to you, Miss Balcázar of California?”

“Very well, do let her in.” She sat up; setting aside the novel she’d been fumbling through. “Well, go on, Branson. Hurry now.”

With a low bow, he retreated out the door, and then asked Paulina to do him the service of following him in. She had half a mind to tell him that she wouldn’t, that she’d changed her mind about seeing the Queen, and that if the Queen wanted to, she could visit Paulina at her apartment, as long as she phoned ahead. But she didn’t say any of that, even though she was pissed off, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything remotely close to that, so she kept quiet, and followed him into the room, carrying herself as if she were the Queen, doing her absolutely best to seem unaffected by it all.

“Your Majesty, I present to you –”

“Miss Balcázar was already presented to me in your prior entrance. There is no need to repeat it once more. I daresay I remembered quite well enough.” She spoke, making it clear with her words that he was to leave immediately, and leave he did.

Branson wasted no time in abandoning the sitting room, leaving the women to their silence. The Queen remained seated, staring at the young American with curious eyes. She had seen the young woman hundreds of times; on the covers of tabloid magazines, on the teli, on the internet, and even on files that were being kept on her. But seeing her in person was a completely different experience. There stood the young woman whom had been the subject of so many fights between herself and her grandson, there she was in the flesh, and for the first minute or so of their meeting, all the Queen did, was stare.

She had expected Paulina to show up in fine clothes. The young woman, despite her obvious faults, always seemed to be sharply dress whenever she was in elevated company. At polo matches she dressed elegantly and conservatively. She always seemed to present herself well whenever she was around royalty or at a public function, and that was the manner in which the Queen had expected to see her dressed. But that wasn’t the case. There were no smart heels on her feet, no fashionable, yet conservative dress. She was wearing jeans that seemed to be stained, and an American football jersey that was a bit too large for her, and worst of all . . . worst of all, her hair was a mess, it was obvious that she hadn’t even made an attempt at putting herself together.

At another time, she would comment on the young woman’s unkempt appearance, but at the present, all that mattered was that she was there.

“Miss Balcázar,” she initiated the conversation as custom dictated. “I am pleased you were able to make the journey. I trust the roads were agreeable?”

There was something surreal about being spoken to by the Queen. It was as if she’d suddenly been thrust into the company of Hillary Clinton. And it was at that precise moment, that Paulina felt quire crushed, as if the magnitude of the situation had finally dawned on her. Her body instinctively began to position itself to deliver a proper curtsy, one that would please the Queen, but as her leg began to move, as her body readied itself to deliver such a curtsy, her pride suddenly cried out for her to stop. There would be no curtsying, not for the Queen, not after the way she’d been treated, and so her leg returned to its natural position, and her pride forced her to just stand there.

“I didn’t have a choice in the matter, Your Majesty.” Paulina spoke. Not curtsying or even slightly bowing her head. “Though, the roads were agreeable. There’s hardly any traffic at this time of day.”

The Queen had expected a curtsy. Not because Paulina had to curtsy. She was American, she didn’t have to curtsy, Elizabeth II wasn’t her sovereign, but she had curtsied to Charles, she curtsied to William. So why hadn’t she curtsied to her? Was it perhaps an act of defiance?

“Whatever do you mean by not having had a choice?” inquired the Queen, choosing to not remark on Paulina’s decision to not curtsy. “Surely, there was one, and you decided upon accepting my invitation.”

“I did not, in fact, decide that.” Paulina’s voice remained firm. “That was a decision made by your security detail. Apparently, Mason and James were quite convinced that I had to be brought before you. And since I made it perfectly clear that I would not leave my guests at such an hour, they thought it fitting to forcibly remove me from my apartment, and thus, they handcuffed me and drove me here.”

“Now, I do believe there is no truth in your words. James and Mason are –”

“Do you?” Paulina cut her off. “Well, then I do believe I must show you my wrists.” Paulina lifted them into the air. “Is there truth in them? Or do you by chance believe that I carry a set of cuffs around with me? To use when I fancy?”

“I gave no orders for you to be brought forcibly.” She said, curtly. “I merely extended an invitation.”

“That wasn’t an invitation,” argued Paulina. “An invitation would’ve been your sending out a security detail to inform me of your desire to meet in a week’s time, perhaps in a few days, not in mere hours. What you did wasn’t an invitation. It was a power play. You wanted to assert yourself as the dominant force. So you sent them to go fetch me, as if I were a dog that would come running at the first sign of interest.”

“Well I never –” she gasped in indignation.

“I know you’ve never. You’re the Queen. You don’t have to go running after anyone. People come to you. That’s the way it is. The way it’s always been. That’s the reason why you sent for me, because even though you call me an American tart, you thought I’d come running.”

“Harry has absolutely no business relaying any of that to you!” the Queen declared. “That was a private discussion.”

“He hasn’t relayed any of that to me. I’ve heard you with my own ears tear me apart for being an American, for being Catholic, for being a whore. I’ve heard you shout all those things while I’ve sat beside Henry in the car.” Paulina spoke, her tone still normal. “And not once has Henry told me anything regarding what you say in private. I think he does it, because he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. Because I'm sure you’ve said things that are a hell of a lot worse than that.”

“If I am critical of you, it is for the sake of the monarchy.” She spoke, not even looking the slightest bit embarrassed as she proceeded to stand from her place on the couch. “Prudence demanded that I be harsh in my consideration of your person. Or do you believe I should have rejoiced in your obvious inferiority? In your faults?” she questioned. “I had to think of the best interest of my grandson. It was my duty not only as his grandmother, but as his Queen.”

“That’s a lie and you damn well know it.”

“I beg your pardon?” Her face colored in indignation.

“You weren’t thinking of Henry’s best interesting. You only thought of yourself and the monarchy. Because if you really cared about Henry, and what’s good for him and makes him happy, then you’d have approved of me,” argued Paulina. “Because you’d know that I love and that he loves me, and that I make him the happiest he’s been in a long time.”

“I will make no attempt at refuting your prior statements. With my own eyes, I have seen his felicity grow with each passing day, surely that has been your doing, but joy is not enough to put ones reservations to rest. There are those whom are skilled at the art of pleasing, whom devote their entire energy in their attempts to become favorites of the crown. I could not be sure that you were not one of them, particularly, when your inferiority was so present in my thoughts.”

“Inferiority . . .” repeated Paulina, unable to believe that she’d actually used that line. She’d seen it used in films before, in novels, but she didn’t think it was being thrown around anymore, not really. “Henry said you were a fan of Jane Austen.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It has to do with everything,” she declared. “If you’re a fan, then you know how I'm going to respond to being insulted in such a manner. You’ve read it in the novels. And you’ve . . . well, you’ve become Lady Catherine.”

That came as a slap to the face for the Queen, “I have done no such thing!”

“You know you have,” said Paulina, in a surprisingly soft voice. “You’ve sent for me in the dead of night, you’ve thrown my so called inferiority at me as an insult. You have embodied her, and for what? What is my purpose in being here? Did you just want to insult me? To make me feel like I'm not worth a damn, because let me tell you something, Queen or not, there is no way in hell you’re going to make me feel bad about myself. I’ve been dealing with the press for far too long to let my so called inferiority, get under my skin. Because I'm not inferior,” she boldly declared. “I might not have been born with a silver spoon in hand, but my worth surpasses that of so many affluent individuals. I am fiercely loyal, I do my best by people, and if I give someone my word, I keep it. Sometimes I mess up, I'm not gonna stand here and say that I'm perfect, because that’d be a massive lie. I’ve got a temper that sometimes gets the best of me, and I always to have an opinion on things, even when I don’t fully understand what’s being discussed. But I'm a good hearted person. And you . . .” her voice trembled. “. . . You should know enough of insincere people who want nothing more than to become attached to the crown, to be able to appreciate someone who genuinely doesn’t care for any of that. I don’t care that Henry’s a Prince. In fact, I’d prefer if he wasn’t. Then we’d be normal. And you’d like me, because if you weren’t a Queen, you wouldn’t be preoccupied with things that have no true worth.”

“Titles do have worth,” the Queen calmly commented. “If they had none, then I would not sit on a throne.”

“Fair enough, but all I'm saying is that when we die, which we will, it’s a very human thing to do. We’re not going to take our titles with us, nor will we take the money and jewels. None of that will matter when we meet out maker. They’ll just care about whether or not we were good people, and did good by our fellow man. And it is then, that we will know what it truly means to be inferior or worthy.”

“You’re quite eloquent, remarkably so for a young person.” The Queen commented. “But your passions run wild, a common fault of youth.” She reclaimed her seat, and motioned for Paulina to take one across from her. “It was not my desire to insult you. I was merely stating the facts. Now, now, do not get worked up about it, again. We must keep our wits about us. For we have not yet touched the topic for which I sent for you, and now that I have heard you speak, I daresay that I fear we shall not have a fruitful encounter.”

“And why do you say that?”

“Tea first, then we’ll hold our discussion.” She gracefully prepared them each a cup of tea, and then began to speak. “It is no secret that my grandson if of great importance to the monarchy. He is third in the line of succession, and until his brother marries and has a child of his own, he will remain a contender for the throne.”

“Henry has no desire to ever ascend the throne.” Paulina took the cup from the Queen, and out of habit, uttered a soft thank you.

“That, I know,” the Queen said, calmly. “But that does not change the fact that he is third in line, and that when my time ends, he will be second. For many years, I have attempted to guide him towards a more sensible path, one which would reflect well on the monarchy. He has, as you surely know, not taken well to my guidance. But with you . . .” she pursed her lips, slightly, finding it difficult to say aloud that this stranger had more sway over her grandson than she did. “ . . . With you, he seems to have come into himself more. And I wish to recruit you as an ally. Perhaps you might be so kind as to assist me in training Harry to –”

“He’s not a dog to be trained.” Paulina set her tea down. “He’s a grown man, with his own pursuits and beliefs.”

“Yet he seems to have matured considerably since your romance commenced. You obviously have a power over him.”

“Power?” she shook her head. “I don’t have any power over him. And even if I did, I wouldn’t use it for the advancement of your agenda. Harry’s my boyfriend. Not my play thing. And I don’t – well, sometimes I do scold him when he’s acting like a prat, but I don’t try to tell him what to do all the time. I support him in his endeavors. I believe in him. And maybe . . . maybe that’s what’s made him take to his duties a little more. Maybe knowing that there’s someone who’ll stand by him and believe in him no matter what, is making him more confident in himself. Because let’s face it, being torn apart by you at all times isn’t conducive to his wanting to please you.”

“I do not tear him apart.”

“You criticize him to no end. I’ve heard you on the phone.”

“That is meant to be nothing more than constructive criticism.” The Queen argued.

“Well that’s not how he takes it.” Paulina inched towards the edge of the chair. “Harry needs to be spoken to with love and respect.”

“That is precisely why I need you, Miss Balcázar.”

“I'm not going to –”

“Perhaps I may convince you to reconsider your stance,” interjected the Queen. “For you see, I harbor no will ill towards my grandson, I simply wish him to do better. There is no fault in that. There could never be, but I am unable to move him as you do. That is to say, no one has your ability with him. Not his father. Not his brother. And I wish to enlist your services, and in return you shall not only have my approval, but you need not worry about finances, not for the remainder of your education. I am aware that you plan to pursue a career in the law, a noble pursuit but very much expensive in America. I could alleviate that expense if you were to only assist me.”

She didn’t say anything. Not right away. It wasn’t because she was thinking offer the offer. She could never have seriously entertained that thought. Her silence stemmed from the fact that she was so offended that her mind had stopped working. There was a disconnect somewhere inside that kept her from speaking, and all she could do was stare at the Queen with wide eyes, as her mouth hung slightly agape. But despite the fact that she couldn’t speak, she could stand, and stand she did. She shot straight up from the chair, her eyes never leaving the Queen’s, and then, then when she could no longer stand the sight of that hateful woman, she turned to leave.

“Miss Balcázar!” the Queen called after her. “Miss Balcázar! I demand you stop!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” cried Paulina, spinning on her heel to face her. “You have no power over me! No right! And I will NEVER accept your offer! I will never betray Henry’s trust just to get college paid for. Fuck that!”

“Manners!” cried the elderly woman.

“Manners?” hissed Paulina. “Don’t fucking talk to me about manners when you just asked me to sell out my boyfriend. Don’t even try to talk to me about that when you’re so clearly lacking in manners. I'm done. I'm going home, and I'm gonna –”

“You won’t be telling Harry, will you?” questioned the Queen, a panicked look suddenly overwhelming her winkled features.

“I should.” Paulina declared. “But I won’t. He has enough on his plate without adding this to it.”

She didn’t stick around any longer. She stormed out of the room, down the hall, and was nearly out the front entrance when Kamal leapt from his seat on the couch, and chased after her.

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she stomped towards the vehicle. Without uttering a word, she climbed into the backseat, and strapped herself in. She had to get far away from them, far, far away.

And as Paulina was driven off into the night, back to her apartment in Oxford, the Queen was entering her bedroom in the main house. There was no look of displeasure on her face, nothing that would have made one think she’d just been in the midst of an argument. In fact, if one was to speak plainly, she looked rather pleased, and that look was noticed by her husband the moment she walked in.

“My darling,” he said in that tender, affectionate voice he reserved just for her. “I trust your audience with Miss Balcázar went well?”

“It did, remarkably so.” She moved towards the bed, discarding her coat as she did so. “She cares for him. She truly, genuinely cares for him. There is no ulterior motive. All there is . . . is love. Remarkably loyal and passionate love . . .”

“Does this mean we are to make her acquaintance soon?”

“No. No I daresay it does not. She can’t stand the sight of me at the present. It’s a pity for her that I'm on the pounds. But in time, I believe I shall extend an invitation. For now, we will carry on as we had, though there will be noticeable changes.”

“Am I correct in assuming that tonight marks the end of your critiquing her?”

“You are very much right. Harry can carry on with her without hearing a word of protest from me. My God, who could have ever thought she’d be sincere?” she asked. “How many Americans have we crossed paths with that desire nothing more than connections and wealth?”

“Far too many,” he replied, “Which was why you were justified in your behavior. You only did what you felt right.”

“Precisely,” she nodded in agreement. “I simply did what I felt right. And now I can rest assured that she is a decent sort of girl for Harry, even if she is still Catholic.”

“That can be changed. If the time calls for it,” he added.

“Yes. It can. Though I think it a bit earlier for that,” she let out a sigh. “Do you think I was right in doing this? On such short notice and the manner in which I did?”

“Had you done it any other time, you would have run the risk of Harry finding out. He was here. You knew he would be here the entire time, it made sense. And the girl will forget in time.”

“I don’t think that’s the case. She’s proud, not obscenely proud, but she’s proud nonetheless.”

“But she loves Harry. And if she’s not planning on telling him about tonight’s encounter, then we can rest assured that she doesn’t want to strain his relations with his family, and that if the opportunity presents itself for her to be introduced and accepted by us, that she will take it. She’d be a fool not to.”