The Thrill Is Gone

“What do you mean he’s not gonna be there?” she asked from her place in the backseat, suddenly growing uneasy. “He has to be there. He promised he would! I just . . . I talked to him yesterday, and he was going on about what it’s gonna be like at the ceremony, and how he thinks I might go into fangirl mode when I meet Robert Plant, which is ridiculous, because I'm gonna be in fucking shock when I meet him, but yeah, he was going on about that, so he has to be there! Why would he be telling me that he’s looking forward to seeing how I’ll react, if he’s not gonna be there? He has to be there!”

“He will be there, Miss.”

“But you just said he wouldn’t.”

“Then I misspoke, Miss.” Alistair said, gently. “What I meant to say is that Prince Harry will not be at Chatsworth House when you arrive. He won’t be there at all, not today, at least. He’s meant to arrive tomorrow morning, Miss.” He hoped that would calm her nerves. “He’ll arrive in time to attend the ceremony in the afternoon.”

“I thought he was gonna be there today.”

“He had planned to, truly, but since he is to take off an extended period from his training, his superiors thought it best that he be dedicated so long as he’s present in England. And, in all honesty, they weren’t planning on giving him tomorrow off, but Prince Charles informed them that it was necessary for Harry to have the day off, and it was sorted out.” Alistair explained. “Unfortunately, that meant that Prince Harry won’t be at Chatsworth House today, but he will be there tomorrow. He’s meant to arrive shortly before breakfast, so you’ll take your meal with him, and he will be at your side throughout the presentation ceremony. That’s what I’ve been informed of.”

“But I want him there today,” she sulked. “I can’t be alone with Prince Charles and Camilla. Not for an entire day. What’ll I say? What’ll I do? I mean, I know how to act and all that, but Harry was supposed to be there. I can’t be on my own. It’s nerve wracking enough when he’s there to help, but to not have him there, I just . . . I can’t. Do you think they’ll be offended if I take the train back to Oxford and show up tomorrow morning? I think that’d be best, because I really have no business there if he’s not there. It’s not like I'm anything to them, I'm just his son’s girlfriend. That’s it.”

Picking up on the agitation in her voice, Alistair decided to pull over. He parked in an alleyway where there was hardly any foot traffic, and after turning off the car, he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Miss Balcázar?” he spoke to her, turning to face her. He saw the creased forehead and thought that perhaps some familiarity might do a bit better. “Paulina,” he said, calling her by her first name for the first time. “I understand that this is incredibly nerve wracking, but the thing is, Prince Charles knew all along that Harry wouldn’t be at Chatsworth, today. He knew his commitments with his training would keep Harry from home, but he still invited you. He didn’t think to hold off just because his son wouldn’t be home. He invited you because he wants you there. It’s simple as that, really. He wants the pleasure of your company, perhaps to get to know you a bit better, I don’t know exactly why, but I know he invited you. And I know that Prince William will be there as well. Kate has gone on holiday with her brother and sister, and Prince William will be home, so I believe there might be some comfort in his company.”

“Did he really know Harry wouldn’t be there?” she asked in a small voice.

Alistair nodded. “He knew. Even before he extended the invitation to you, he’d already seen the calendar to sort things out, he has to look ahead to ensure schedule permits, and all the while he knew Harry wouldn’t be at Chatsworth, but he still wanted you there. So please don’t worry, Miss.”

“What happened to Paulina? I like it better when you call me by my name. Miss Balcázar is nice enough, but it’s so formal, and we’re past such formality, Alistair. I’ve told you before, we’re friends.”

“You have, and I thank you, but it would be considered impertinent if I were to call you that in front of royals, in front of anyone else. There has to be a separation.”

“Between who and who?” she asked. “I'm not royalty.”

He had to actively stop himself from saying, not yet.

“I know, Miss, but I’d rather not get out of practice of calling you Miss Balcázar, and then refer to you by your given name in public. That would not reflect well, but please do not feel out of place with them, with Prince Charles and his family, that is. If he didn’t care for you, he wouldn’t have invited you. People of his rank aren’t in the habit of inviting people they can’t stand into their own homes. So please be at ease.”

“I’ll try to.” She mustered up the best smile she could. “Thank you, Alistair. I really need that pep talk.”

“No need to thank me, Miss. Kamal and I – well, truth be told, we’re very fond of you, and what you’ve done for Harry.”

Without saying anything further, he started up the car, and drove them to Chatsworth House in a comfortable silence. Where, upon arrival, they were greeted by Camilla and William, whom stood on the steps of the house, waiting for her. Prince Charles had also intended to be there to welcome her, but there had been an issue regarding the following day’s ceremony that needed working out, and he had found himself forced to leave his home in order to see that the situation was remedied.

Paulina had to actively keep herself from opening the door and stepping out, onto the pavement. In fact, Alistair had to remind her to remain seated, because it was his duty to assist her in exiting the vehicle. Since she couldn’t very well leave the car, she busied herself by running a hand atop the fabric of her dress, trying to smooth out the wrinkles that seemed to have sprung into existence during the drive over from Oxford.

When she was finally let out, she walked halfway up the steps, before William came down to meet her. He addressed her first, with an affectionate smile reserved for only those dearest to him, and after her having curtseyed, and said the polite remarks expected of her, he extended his arm for her to take, and after a moment’s hesitation, she took it. Her bags were to be brought into the house by the footman, and arranged in her room by one of the housemaids, which left Paulina very much at the liberty of Camilla and William, whom after getting the pleasantries out of the way, invited her to join them for their afternoon tea in the garden.

There had been two prior instances in which Paulina had visited Clarence House. Both had been dinners, that left the gardens inaccessible, but since the sun was bright, and the day was fine, there was nothing keeping her from stepping outside. After two visits, she was finally able to take a turn about the gardens, to comment on how absolutely charming and magnificent it all was. She paid the necessary compliments to Camilla, flattering the woman significantly, and all the while, William kept them company, smiling coyly at just how well Paulina had adapted. He had worried that her being unfamiliar with their customs would lead to her having difficulty adjusting to their way of life, to their manner of being, but she’d gotten into the swing of things quite well.

And as he sat across from her, watching as she conversed warmly with Camilla, he couldn’t help but think that she belonged in that space, he couldn’t help but think that perhaps her future might lay with theirs.

It was shortly after the clock struck two that Camilla had to excuse herself. She’d received a frantic phone call from her daughter, crying that she felt ill, that something felt off about her and her infant, and that she really needed her mum to help her and to help look after her daughter, since her husband was off on business. And Camilla, despite feeling that it might come off as rude, decided that she had to get to her daughter’s side as quickly as possible. She couldn’t stand to be parted from her daughter when she was in such pain, and she apologized once, twice, to Paulina, and then left her in the garden with William, as she was driven off in direction of her daughter’s home.

“It’s a beautiful day,” commented William when Camilla left. “And you know what’s truly brilliant about it?”

“What?” she found herself asking.

“That no one’s wasting it by following us about.” William grinned at her, and watching in amusement as her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. “That’s a great line, really spoke to me,” he teased. “And I’d even go as far as to say that it left quite an impression on the press.”

“Truth be told, I was hoping it hadn’t made an impression anyone, but it’s just my luck to have had it blow up. That’s what I get for being drunk.”

“You were then?”

She nodded. “I wasn’t proper smashed or anything like that, but I was well drunk. How’d you hear about it anyway? The news?” she asked.

“No. It was actually through Harry. He phoned to say you’d gone viral.”

Out of embarrassment, she covered her face. “You . . . you watched the video? The one they made with auto tune?”

“Several times, actually. I had quite a laugh over it.” He paused, smiling to himself. “It’s amazing how people waste their time on the internet. No one needed that video, but somehow, someone out there felt they had to make it, that it was their duty, and now . . . well, there’d a video of you having been auto tuned on the internet. And funnily enough, you’re a sensation!”

“I swear I'm gonna find that cameraman and punch him the fuck out. I mean, who even films that kind of thing? It seems like a waste to have the camera on while they follow me about,” she huffed. “One day, I'm gonna find that jerk, and punch them.”

“And then they’d make a video of that.” William smiled. “Don’t worry though. It was a laugh. Father saw it, and he found it rather amusing. He chuckled a bit.”

“Amusing?” she asked, hesitantly. “He didn’t, uh, say that he thought it inappropriate? That it was wrong of me to address the media?”

William shook his head. “Everyone talks to the press at one point or another. Kate’s told them several times to leave her be, well, she did early on. Now, she’s gotten used to it and doesn’t acknowledge them all that much, but early on, she did. Don’t worry though, it’s not like you cursed at them. That would’ve been something to fret over, but you didn’t, so now rest assured that everything’s fine, and that I am going to take the liberty of teasing you whenever there’s fine weather.”

“Sounds fair enough,” she told him.

“Does it?”

“It does,” she said with a smile. “The weather’s rarely fine in London. It’s always chilly, at least by my standards, and a little overcast, so I’ll rarely be teased.”

“Don’t be so sure, I'm fairly certain there’ll be other reasons to tease you.”

“Oh, there will. Henry’s always teasing me about something, so I'm sure you’ll fine a reason to tease me as well. He’s recently taken to calling me a curly headed fuck.”

William began to choke on his tea, so much so, that Paulina had to smack his back a bit. “He’s . . . he’s called you what?” he asked, hoarsely.

“A curly headed fuck,” replied Paulina. “Though I think he does it just to get a rise out of me. I always glare at him and curse at him in Spanish when he does that, and then he laughs, so I think that might be the reason why he does it.”

“Where did he even get the idea to call you that?”

“It’s a line from this American movie called Step Brothers.” She hadn’t even thought that the line would need explaining, not with how much she and Harry had been quoting it lately. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. It came out last year, and it’s really funny, a little gross sometimes, but really funny. We’ve only recently watched it, so we’ve been quoting it a lot and Henry’s been calling me a curly headed, and yeah.”

“We should watch it then, tonight.”

“No!” Paulina exclaimed.

“No?” He watched her, curiously. “Why not?” asked William. “I thought you said it’d be a laugh.”

“It would, it is, but I don’t . . . I don’t think it’s the kind of movie that should be watched with parents around. That might, well, not might, it will be a little awkward with some of the things that happen in it.”

“It’s a lewd film then?”

“Yes. It is.”

“Hmm, right then. Well, I suppose we’ll have to watch it when they get to bed, which won’t be that late, considering they’re asleep by ten unless an engagement keeps them awake.” He poured himself some more. “Would you care for some more, Paulina?”

“No thank you.”

“So the film, the title is Step Brothers?”

She nodded. “If you like, I can go rent it. I know this place that has a really good film selection.”

“There’s no need for that. I’ll send someone to fetch it for us. Hopefully I’ll find a good insult or two to hurl at our ginger.”

“I think you will. The movie’s loaded with good lines.” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Do you attend this ceremony every year?” she found herself asking William.

“No. I don’t make a habit of going yearly, every once in awhile, I’ll attend. Mostly every other year, though last year was when I was in attendance, I wasn’t meant to be there this time around, but then I heard that you and Harry were to be there, so I thought I might as well go. With proper company there, it won’t be dull. Though I know you won’t think it dull at all, not with Robert Plant there.”

“I would listen to someone reading the tax code if that meant I could meet Robert Plant in person.” She joked, though she was perfectly serious, she would endure any boredom to meet Robert Plant.

“You are quite the fan then. I should say you’re as bad as my father.”

“Most likely,” she smiled. “It can’t be helped though. Led Zeppelin is . . . ah, I'm trying to find the words to say what they are, but I'm coming up short. It’s the musical arrangements, the lyrics, the vocals, and the presence. Its rock n roll! Actual rock n roll, not some of the crap that’s being passed off as rock today. And Robert Plant, that voice, the look, the swaying hips – ah! I’ve said too much.” She said, blushing. “I always get carried away when it comes to Led Zeppelin. I just really love them, and I know I'm going to go into shock tomorrow when I meet him.”

“You sure you might not just run at the mouth?”

She shook her head. “I hope not. I’d much rather just go mute than ramble.”

“I'm going to make sure to stand nearby in order to see what happens.” He took a drink of his tea. “That reminds me, Kate says hello. She wanted to see you this weekend since you were to be in London, but then her siblings organized a holiday, and she went off with them.”

“Tell her I say hello when you talk to her next. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen her.”

“What has it been? A month, perhaps?” he asked.

“I think so,” she said. “It was for that art exhibition. It was that and dinner.”

“It was a lovely time.” He commented. “And she also said to say that before you run off to America, we’ve to make another night out, the lot of us.”

“I’d love to have another night out. Just give me a call whenever you two work out when your schedules permit. I'm pretty busy next week since my family’s going to be here, but they leave on Saturday, so I'm free for a week and a half after that.”

“Brilliant. I’ll tell Kate then, and we’ll have something sorted out.” He took a drink of his tea. “Is your entire family to be here? For the graduation, that is?”

“Not my entire family,” she told him. “It’s more along the lines of most of my immediate family. I wanted my niece and nephew to come out with their parents, but my brother wanted to make this into a vacation with his wife, so the kids couldn’t come, but other than that, everyone’ll be here.”

“How’s our ginger taking that?”

“Well enough.” She smiled at the thought of how nervous Harry sounded whenever they talked about her family being in England. “Though, truth be told, he’s a little nervous about being around all my brothers.”

“That’s understandable. I remember when he told me what happened when he met – ah what was his name? The middle one, I think . . . starts with an A, I believe, or was it an E . . . ah! Adrian! – Adrian, I couldn’t stop laughing. Sounded absolutely horrible,” he chuckled. “I mean what luck? You know?”

“I think Henry would say misfortune instead of luck.”

William nodded. “I reckon your right. He was all panicked when he told me, kept going on about how their was an argument, and how he hadn’t a bloody clue as to what the hell was being said, but that it sounded intense.”

“It wasn’t that intense, just some arguing.”

“He said you both looked well mental.”

“Maybe a little mental,” she smiled, sheepishly. “But the important thing is that it ended with a hug.” She grew quiet, and looked out onto the garden. “William?” she eventually said.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to say thank you for being so welcoming and easy to talk to. You’re always so friendly.” She fiddled with the fabric of her dress. “I was nervous about being here without Henry, because, well, I'm not family or anything, but you’ve made me at ease, so thank you very much.”

“There’s no need to thank me.” He reassured her with a smile. “You’re dear to Harry. That makes you dear to me. I can’t begin to say how pleased I am to see him so happy. It’s been ages since he was like this.”

“I'm glad I can make him happy. He makes me happy to.”

“Though he must give you headaches as well,” teased William.

Paulina laughed lightly. “I'm sure I give him just as many.”

“All this talk of headaches has made me realize that we’ve been sitting in the sun a bit too long. Would you like to go inside? I can give you a tour of the house if you like. I know Harry’s taken you before, but there are some parts of it that have to be seen in the daylight to really appreciate the beauty.”

“A tour sounds great.”

“Brilliant.” William stood up, and held out his arm to her. He didn’t have to worry about tidying up their tea area. A maid would do that. “Come on, Paulina. I’ll even show you where I used to stash my sweets. Harry’s quite skilled at sniffing out sweets and pastries, so I always had to hide my favourites from him.”

“Did he ever find them? The spot, I mean.”

“He never did. I always thought he would, but I guess I hid it better than I thought.” He opened the door. “Right through here, we’ll work our way up the floors.”

Their tour hadn’t even been underway for five minutes before it was disrupted by the arrival of Prince Charles, whom had finally finished sorting things out for the ceremony, everything had been checked and double checked, there was nothing that could go wrong, nothing that was missing. They were ready for the ceremony that was to take place the following afternoon, and he was finally able to be at ease and entertain his guest.

He apologized profusely for not having been there to welcome her into his home, he called it unpardonably rude of him, but Paulina reassured him that there had been nothing rude in his manner, it was his duty to look after the ceremony, and Paulina had been well looked after by Camilla and William.

Pleased by her response, he invited her and William to join him in the sitting room, though they would have to wait for him there, since he wished to change out of his current attire. William led her into the sitting room, where they conversed warmly until his father showed.

“I say, have either of you seen Camilla?” he asked. “I thought I might see her in our chambers, but she was nowhere to be found.”

“That’s because she had to leave.” William answered.

“Leave?” Prince Charles started at his son, skeptically. “Wherever to? I received no call from her.”

“It was all very rushed,” explained William. “She received a phone call from Laura, asking that she go over directly to assist her with the baby. At least, that’s what I presume. Camilla only said that it was imperative she be at Laura’s side.”

“I do hope Laura’s alright.” Prince Charles took a seat at his favored armchair. “It would be a pity for Camilla to not return by dinner. Tell me, Miss Balcázar, how did you like the gardens? I know they do not compare to those of Highgrove, the country is a most superior place for proper gardens, but I am quite proud of what I have established here in London.”

“And you have every right to,” replied Paulina, politely. “The gardens here are truly beautiful, Sir. The floral arrangements truly maximize the space; they decorate it without being overwhelming, like some other gardens might in the city.”

“Very true, Miss Balcázar,” spoke Charles. “That was without a doubt the most difficult aspect in bringing this garden into existence. I had to find a way to have the flowers and shrubberies that I desired, without taking too much space away, and leaving the area cramped. There must always be space to set up a party. That’s what I kept having to remind myself. I imagine the gardens at Oxford must be quite a treat. The university invests well in keeping well groomed and looked after spaces.”

“They do.” Paulina replied. “Henry and I used to be very fond of taking picnics at the botanic garden, though; we had to put an end to that when our relationship became public knowledge.”

“Such a pity that you should have stopped those picnics,” commented Prince Charles. “Though it is understandable, what with the manner in which you are both pursued whenever you step outside. I, for one, still find it difficult to believe that the pair of you managed to keep your relationship a secret for as long as you did. It was a very well orchestrated secret until the mishap at that nightclub.”

Paulina nodded in agreement. “It would have been ideal for us to have chosen when to come out, but the universe had other plans for us.”

“Indeed.” Prince Charles agreed. “The universe has a way of seeing that its own agenda be done. It has caused quite a great deal of headaches as a result of that, but thankfully, things have settled for you and Harry. Of course, the press will continue to follow you, but I do believe that in America, it will not be to the level that it is here.”

“Why do you say that, Sir?”

“Because the Americans are fond of the British Royal Family, but they are not obsessed with it to the degree that the United Kingdom is, which is to be expected. And in America, the British press, won’t be able to follow you around and take pictures and attempt to interview you, because that will be considered work by your government, and very few of them, only the respectable news outlets, have American work visas. So the only ones you shall really be troubled with, is the American press. And I am sure the American obsession with pop stars and reality television, will keep you in relative peace during your stay at Harvard.” He paused. “That reminds me, you have now finished at Oxford. Have you not?”

“I have, Sir.” Paulina replied.

“Are you aware of what degree you are to graduate with?”

“Yes, Sir,” she was smiling brightly; she couldn’t help but smile foolishly whenever she thought of her degree. “I am to graduate with a Congratulatory First.”

“A congratulatory first?” he repeated. “Good heavens! I believe congratulations are in order. Well done, Miss Balcázar, well done. We shall have champagne at dinner to celebrate.”

“I think this calls for a cake as well, father.” William chimed in.

“I daresay you are right, though I do suspect that your love of cake has led you to propose such a thing. Tell me, Miss Balcázar, what sort of cake are you partial to? And please do not be modest and say vanilla or anything, say which you truly care for, and it shall be done.”

“Thank you, Sir, very much. I believe that my favorite cake is white chocolate raspberry.”

“Then that is what we shall have for dessert.” He picked up a control that rested on the arm of his chair, and pressed the green button, shortly after, a grey haired man entered the room. “Roland, do contact that bakery I am so fond of, and inform that I necessitate a white chocolate raspberry cake by seven.”

“I will inform them directly, Sir.” He bowed. “Will that be all, Sir?”

“Yes. It will.” Charles returned his attention to his companions. “We’ll have quite the dinner this evening. It will be most enjoyable.”

“It will be thank you, Sir.”

“No need to thank me. One must always celebrate remarkable achievements. I have not known many that have attained a congratulatory first. You must be most proud of yourself, as must your parents.”

“They are, Sir. And I am. I take my education incredibly seriously. It’s led me to not getting very much sleep, but it is my most beloved endeavor.”

They spoke at length about Oxford, about politics and the world at large. Prince Charles asked her opinion on many an issue, and the three of them discussed it at length. He was quite impressed by how well informed she was, there were even a few issues on which she was better informed on, though he did not make that obvious. They remained in the sitting room until an hour before dinner, when they went their separate ways to change into the evening’s attire. Paulina thought it ridiculous that she had to change out of her clothes to eat dinner, at her flat, she didn’t even wear pants of the time while she ate, but these were the customs of their family, and she changed into the teal number that she’d worn when she first met Ted Kennedy.

The dinner went by quietly; it was pleasant enough and filled with conversation regarding what was to be expected of the following day. Camilla had found herself forced to remain at her daughter’s side longer than she’d anticipated, so she was not able to be there for dinner, though her presence was not much missed. Prince Charles was engrossed in discussing the preparations that had been made for the ceremony, in informing his son and his other son’s girlfriend, who were to be awarded what honors, and they were an attentive audience.

It was nearly ten when Camilla returned, and it was shortly thereafter that Prince Charles and she bid Paulina and William goodnight. William, whom had had his personal security detail fetch them a copy of Step Brothers, quickly informed Paulina that they ought to change out of the stuffy clothes, and into casual clothing to lounge about in. Paulina believed that casual clothes meant jeans and a t-shirt, it turned out that William met pajamas, and when she walked into the home theater area, she found him wearing an oversized shirt, and pajama bottoms.

“What on earth are you wearing?” he asked her, an amused smile on his face.

“Casual clothes,” she replied, nervously. “I thought when you said casual, you meant, well casual clothes not pajamas.”

“Why on earth would you change into jeans at night to watch a film?”

“I don’t know. I just, I didn’t think I could wander around here in pajamas.” She chuckled. “This seems the kind of place where pajamas are only for one’s room.”

“I wander about in pajamas all the time.” William reassured. “And if you like, we can wait to start the film until you’ve changed into some.”

“That’ll take too much time. Let’s just watch the movie.”

“You sure you comfortable?” asked William.

“I'm positive.” She took a seat beside him. “Jeans and t-shirts are the best, so I'm good, really.”

“Alright then,” he pressed play. “There’s some crisps, wasn’t sure which you’re keen on, so I had a few brought out, and there’s some beers, and sweets, so feel free to get whichever.”

They made it halfway through the movie with no interruptions. Well, there were some interruptions, but it wasn’t along the lines of someone walking in and telling them something, it was along the lines of them erupting into laughter and commenting about how ridiculous was. They made it halfway with that being the only sort of interruptions they got, and then, quite unexpectedly, the door was thrown open.

“Who the hell’s there?” cursed William, annoyed that they’d been interrupted during a particularly rousing joke.

“That anyway to speak to your little brother, ya wanker?” teased Harry. “And people say I’ve no manners. Your arse is the one without manners.” He walked further into the room. “Have you seen Paulin? I thought I heard her laughing through here. Ah. There’s my curly headed –”

“Call me that one more time, and you’ll see what happens.” Paulina threatened, playfully.

“So defensive,” he complained, quite overdramatically. “I was only goin’ to say that there’s my curly headed goddess.” He plopped down on her lap, throwing his legs onto the couch, and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “You always think I'm up to trouble.”

“Because you usually are,” she laughed. “What are you doing here anyways? I was told that you were going to be here tomorrow, because you didn’t even tell me that you wouldn’t be here today.”

“I didn’t? Could’ve sworn I did. Hmm, sorry about that, but yeah, I'm here. Why would ya like me to run off? I can if you like, and leave you with this boring sod for a bit longer.”

“Your brother’s not a boring sod. He’s been fun all day.”

“You don’t have to be polite just cuz he’s here.” Harry joked about.

“She’s polite, because she’s got manners, you brute.” William went along with it. “Honestly Harry, your gingery self needs to take a page or two after Paulina. Then maybe you won’t be such a wanker.”

“Once a wanker, always a wanker,” declared Harry. “You know that as well I do.” He paused and suddenly realized what they were watching. “You lot are watching Step Brothers? You brought the movie along?” he asked Paulina.

“No. I forgot it. Didn’t think anyone would want to see it here, but William sent someone to go buy it, so we’re watching it now.”

“How you liking it, Wills? It’s a laugh isn’t it?”

“It is.” William agreed. “I can’t get over the fact that they had that dog shit moment. That was a bit, a bit far.”

“Yeah,” laughed Harry. “That’s what makes it so brilliant though. That reminds me, Wills, you should move.”

“What? Why?”

“Because my legs are on you, and I'm keen to have a proper lie down.”

“Then go lie down on that other couch.”

“It’s too far.”

“You lazy prat,” William pinched his brother’s leg. “Go on, I'm quite settled.”

“You’ve just got to move a seat over. The next couch is right next to your seat. Come on, Wills. You love me. Just do it. Yeah? Come on, now. Don’t be mean to your brother. I'm the little one. You’re meant to indulge me and make sure I'm comfortable and I’ve been on my feet all bloody day with training, and you should –”

“Fine!” exclaimed William, standing up, and throwing his brother’s feet off him. “Just shut it, and let us enjoy the movie.”

“I will. I will. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Harry repositioned himself so his head rested on Paulina’s lap. “Sorry about leaving you on your own.”

“It’s alright. I had fun with your dad and your brother.” She ran her fingers through his hair, gently. “I'm glad you’re here though.”

He smiled, “Me too.”

Early the next morning, Paulina sat down to breakfast beside Harry. She was neatly dressed, but not yet ready for the ceremony. They were to have their breakfast, then retire to their rooms and prepare themselves for the ceremony. The three youths seemed tired, having stayed up well into the early hours of the night, watching various films, but they’d be fine once they’d had their tea, and once Paulina had her coffee since it had specially made for her.

Getting dressed for the ceremony was more nerve wracking than it had been to get dressed for the Garden Party. For the Garden Party, Paulina was busy trying to figure out what the Queen was playing at, what was going to happen, and then, towards the end a bit, she worried about what meeting Harry’s aunt and uncle would be like. But that time around, she was scared shitless at the thought that she could very well be walking into a situation that would end with her making an utter ass of herself in front of one of her most beloved singers of all time. And worst than that, there was a very real chance that Robert Plant might turn out to be an asshole, some prick that thought himself about everything else, some self absorbed bastard that would completely shatter the idea of who he was, that she’d built up in her mind over the past two decades.

That was what scared her most. That’s what had her so nervous.

That was why she felt uneasy as she stood between William and Harry. They were at her sides, giving her a sense of high importance in the eyes of everyone else present, but in her own eyes, their being in close proximity of her, didn’t elevate her into superior company, she didn’t feel herself a calm and composed youth, capable of charming anyone. She felt terrified, like an awkward teenager that was about to go to the signing of one of her favorite bands. She was terrified of the outcome of the encounter, terrified that things would go so horribly that she’d stop listening to Led Zeppelin altogether, and never mention their name again.

And so she stood there wearing a deep scarlet dress, her head held appropriately high, in hopes of appearing much more confident than she actually felt. She wore a friendly smile on her lips, remembering that she had to appear warm and friendly, and when Robert Plant walked past her to get back to his, she felt her heart go haywire, and when he shot her a smile, a small, friendly little smile that she would’ve missed had her eyes not been firmly fixed on his wrinkled face, she felt herself grow flustered, weak in the knees, and what resulted was her grinning brightly at him. The press could go on and say that her smile had been far too wide, bordering on the vulgar, but there was nothing she could’ve done to have prevented such a smile. Robert Plant had made eye contact with her, he had smiled at her, and that warranted a massive grin. No one would ever convince her otherwise.

After Prince Charles finished awarding the honors, the photographers began to take official photographs of him with the newly appointed individuals that comprised the Order of the British Empire. There were individual shots, group shots that varied according to the rankings in the Order, and then there was a large picture taken of the entire group. And it the end of that picture that marked the beginning of the socializing.

William thought it best to separate from Paulina and Harry at the point, that way he could mingle with a different crowd and they wouldn’t be seen as only sticking amongst one another, though he would’ve much rather remained in their company. Paulina smiled warmly and made polite conversation with whoever came into her and Harry’s company. She knew it was her duty to be an amiable companion at such an event, which was a difficult task considering the fact that she wanted nothing more than to sprint in direction of Robert Plant, and just be in his company, but she had to wait. Prince Charles had informed her that he would personally fetch her and make the introductions.

So she waited, and waited, and waited some more, she waited until nearly an hour had passed. It was at that moment, when she was losing hope at every actually meeting Robert Plant, that Prince Charles appeared at her side and asked her, along with Harry, to accompany him.

“Robert, do you have a moment?” asked Prince Charles, despite knowing very well that Robert Plant did have a moment, and even if he didn’t he would’ve made one to accommodate the prince.

“Of course, Sir,” replied Robert.

“I am pleased to hear it. Come now, dear” he motioned to Paulina who had stopped short by a foot or so. “Do you remember my telling you that I had a young person whom I wished you to meet?”

“Yes. I do. Is this her?” He flashed Paulina a smile. “I remember you; saw you when I was walking back up. You’ve a lovely smile, you know.”

“Thank you so much, Sir.” Paulina blurted out, her cheeks instantly taking on a rosy blush.

“This is Paulina Aureliana Balcázar, a Rhodes Scholar and my son’s girlfriend, and this is my son, as I trust you know.” Prince Charles waited until the appropriate pleasantries were made. “Miss Balcázar was most eager to make your acquaintance.”

“Is that so?” Robert spoke to her. “I take it you’re a fan then, of Led, that is.”

“Yes, a massive fan. And not only Led Zeppelin, but also Band of Joy and your work with Alison Krauss. I know people tell you this all the time, you’re Robert Plant, but um, you have an extraordinary body of work. And my dad asked me to tell you que eres chingon (you’re fucking awesome).” She was about to translate when Robert began to laugh. “You know what that means?” she asked.

“Of course, I’ve visited Mexico several times. Latin America is a very rich area with a lot of vibrant music that I’ve been keen to learn more of, and during my time in Mexico, I heard myself be described as that quite a bit. I also heard that in Columbia and Argentina. I'm terribly sorry for asking, but what are you? Your accent makes me think Mexican, but your look makes me partial to think there’s some Argentinean in you.”

“I'm Mexican, Sir. Technically, a Mexican Hungarian American,” she specified.

“That’s a mouthful.” Robert chuckled. “I take it your father’s Mexican, by your last name.”

“He is.” She nodded.

“Is he from Mexico City? We were very popular there. Well, Mexico City, Monterrey, Guadalajara, all the big cities seemed to have a large fan base. It seems more difficult for the music to have gotten out there in the early days.” Robert informed Charles. “There’s so much countryside and the music was prevalently regional so the fans were mostly concentrated in the larger cities.”

“Her father wasn’t from a large city though.” Charles told Robert. “He was from a small ranch in Guanajuato. Is that right, Miss Balcázar?”

“Yes, Sir, it is.” Paulina answered.

“And how the hell did your father get into us while he was in a ranch?” asked Robert, genuinely amused.

“He didn’t find out about Led Zeppelin in the fields. I'm afraid my grandpa only ever listened to traditional rancheras. My dad found out about it through family. We have relatives that live in Guadalajara, one of his cousins, my uncle Francisco was really into Led Zeppelin, and when my dad went to go visit, he heard your music and it was love. After that, he saved up his money, stocked up on Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd vinyls, and got told off for listening to the crazy music.”

“Did he really get told off?”

Paulina nodded. “My grandpa has never really cared for music in English, and because of the presentation, he didn’t think his son ought to be listening to it. But my dad kept listening, he got smacked a bit for it, at least that’s what he says. But I grew up on your music. And . . . I'm rambling, I'm sorry. It’s just an honor, Sir, a true honor to make your acquaintance.”

“And it’s a pleasure to make yours. It’s always nice to hear from fans. And interesting enough, I'm currently exploring Mexican sounds. I'm living in Texas so, as you know, there’s quite a strong Mexican presence in the state, and there’s an influence there that I'm experimenting with at the moment.”

Prince Charles, pleased to see how the conversation was going, excused himself from the group, and for the next ten minutes, Paulina was engrossed in conversation with Robert Plant. She did her best to add Harry into the conversation, asking for his opinion on things, but Harry was content to watch her speak. He loved watching her so passionate about things.

It was towards the end of the conversation that Harry mentioned that he’d very much like to have a picture taken to commemorate the occasion, and after Robert said it would be fine, Harry called over one of the official photographers, and had two pictures taken.

“Oh my God!” exclaimed Paulina when Robert Plant was out of sight. “I can’t believe we just met Robert Plant! I just had a conversation with Robert Plant. Was I alright? I know I was rambling a little, but I couldn’t help it, because well, you know, it’s Robert Plant. But do you think I was okay? He was so nice wasn’t he? Like I was afraid he was gonna be such a jerk, because Tom Petty was such a prick when I met him, but Robert Plant was so nice. Don’t you think he was nice? Ah! I'm rambling again.” She bit down on her lips. “Sorry, I just, I can’t believe I met Robert Plant.” She paused. “Do you think . . . do you think your dad would let me give him a hug?”

“You want to know if my dad will let you give Robert Plant a hug?” Harry asked, unsure if he’d heard well.

“Not Robert Plant. I want to know if I can give your dad a hug. I really want to give him a hug, because he just made a dream come true, but then I remember that I have to curtsey and I think that hugging is out of the occasion.”

“It’s not just that. My father’s not really much of a hugger.” Harry told her. “He’s . . . well, I can’t really remember the last time we hugged. It’s just not something he does.”

“You can’t remember when he last hugged you?” she asked in a soft voice, unable to believe that.

He nodded. “He wasn’t raised to be a hugger. S’alright. It doesn’t bother me. Not really. What are you doing?” he asked when he noticed her step towards him.

“Hugging you,” she said, simply. “Why? Do you not like my hugs?”

“Don’t be daft. You know I'm keen on your hugs.” He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and pulled her in close. “I can’t wait until we’re alone.”

“It’ll be a week before that happens.”

“That’s not to long. It’ll go by quickly enough, and then it’ll just be you and me for a week and a half. No training to keep us apart.”

“Where are we going anyways?” she gazed up at him.

“Can’t tell you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“But I want to know.” Paulina pouted. “Please?”

He shook his head. “You’re just gonna have to wait.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “I think we should get going now, everyone’s staring and I know this is gonna get blown up. Overly affectionate, they’ll call us. Fuck them. Though, on second though, never mind my Gran will hear about it, and I think I’d rather not upset her, not with how well things have been going with her.”

“Have they?”

“Mhm,” he held out his arm for her, and she gladly took it. “She said you were charming.”

Charming? She wanted to laugh.

“I'm glad to hear it.” Paulina said. “Should we look for William?”

“Yes. We should. We won’t be here much longer.”

Harry was right about that. They were there only for about an hour longer, only long enough to see that everyone else had left the premises, and once that was taken care of, they were driven back to Clarence House.

Once there, they changed out of fancy dress and into more casual clothing, though to be honest, the attire was still very much formal. It was only a slight downgrade from the outfits they’d spent their afternoon in. They spent the rest of the day in an easy enough manner. They took tea in the garden, they walked about the grounds, had dinner, and after dinner, the men and the women, each went their separate ways. Charles retired to his personal sitting room with his sons, and Camilla retired to the parlor with Paulina.

They spoke mostly of Camilla’s daughter and the cold that afflicted her granddaughter. It was a dull conversation that could’ve been had and settled within a few minutes, but as a mother, Camilla felt it her duty to talk about it at length. And so she did, she spoke about it for the better part of a half hour, and would’ve certainly continued to do so had it not been for a knock at the door, had it not been for a maid whom announced that Her Majesty had arrived.

Both women leapt to their feet, and it seemed that in that moment, it didn’t matter if Camilla held a title, if she was a duchess and the wife of the future king. Camilla seemed every bit as uneasy as Paulina, every bit as out of place. She might have been the mistress of the royal household, she might have held royal duties, and been a member of the royal family, but despite all that, Camilla was still beneath the Queen. And the manner in which she leapt to her feet, the manner in which she curtseyed so deeply, so reverently, made it clear that when it came to the Queen, Camilla ranked the same as Paulina.

“Your Majesty,” spoke Camilla after she’d finished curtseying. “I was unaware that we were meant to expect the honor of your visit. Had I known, I would have met you at the door – we would have met you at the door,” she corrected, quickly. “Isn’t that right, Miss Balcázar?”

“It is indeed, Ma’am,” replied Paulin from her place beside her.

Camilla smiled nervously. “Shall I have Charles and the boys informed of your arrival? I shall send for them directly, if you desire.”

“There is no need,” spoke the Queen. “I did not come here to sit with my son or grandsons.”

“Then shall I send for tea so that we may converse?” Camilla offered, wracking her mind in an attempt to find out just what exactly the Queen was doing there, what she wanted.

“I did not come to converse with you either.” The Queen informed her, sounding a bit rude. “I came with the sole purpose of calling upon Miss Balcázar, for I desire a private audience with her.” She paused, finding difficulty in saying what she had to. “That is, of course, if Miss Balcázar will bestow that honor upon me.”

Paulina nearly laughed at the absurdity of such a statement. An honor? No. There was no conceivable manner in which the Queen genuinely considered it an honor for Paulina to grant her a private audience. In fact, Paulina was not even in the way of granting that so called honor. The Queen had secured the audience the moment she stepped into Chatsworth House, and had only spoken those words out of propriety, not want.

“Miss Balcázar would be honored to hold a private audience with you, Ma’am,” Camilla answered on behalf of Paulina, who seemed to have suddenly been struck mute. “Isn’t that right, Miss Balcázar?” she prodded the youth for an answer.

“Pardon?” was Paulina’s response. “Oh. Yes. Yes. Indeed. Though I believe the honor would be entirely my own in holding an audience with Your Majesty.”

“Very well then,” said the Queen as she took a seat at her son’s favored chair. She waited for Camilla to leave, but when Camilla began to sit down, the Queen found herself obliged to speak. “Whatever are you doing, Camilla? This is a private audience between Miss Balcázar and myself.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed, coloring in mortification. “Oh. Yes. Yes, of course. Private audience . . .” she rambled, nervously, as she straightened up. “I – I am deeply sorry. Forgive me.” She abandoned her seat. “Foolish me, I take my leave.” Camilla curtseyed and then began to walk towards the door, she had nearly arrived, when she quite suddenly stopped. “Ma’am?” she called. “Shall I send for tea?”

“There is no need,” the Queen said, dismissively. “I have already given word for it to be brought.”

“Then I take my leave. Excuse me, Ma’am,” she curtseyed again.

The two women sat in silence for a moment. Paulina could not initiate the conversation, propriety demanded that it be initiated by Her Majesty. And so she sat in silence, waiting for the Queen to do so. The Queen, for her part, remained too silent in order to take in the young lady’s appearance. She believed Paulina looked the part of a proper young lady, of a person truly worthy of the connections that life had given her. Paulina was a far cry from the unkempt youth that the Queen had first set eyes on; the curls that had once been unruly, had been neatly styled and pinned up, her make up had been impeccably done, and instead of a stained jersey, there was a pretty dress flattering her figure. She looked altogether well. No. Not well. She looked exceedingly pretty, though if she was to be completely honest, the Queen would say that she thought Paulina most beautiful, a youth in bloom with rosy cheeks and dark, fine eyes.

“I heard of your being at the ceremony this afternoon.” The Queen opened the conversation. “It is always most satisfying to see deserving individuals be properly celebrated. Do not you think, Miss Balcázar?”

“I do, indeed,” replied Paulina. “But I do not think that you came here to discuss the ceremony with me. Such a tête-à-tête would be reserved strictly for close acquaintances and beloved friends.”

“And who is to say that I do not count you as a close acquaintance? Perhaps, a most beloved friend?” countered the Queen.

“Do not mock me, Your Majesty,” said Paulina, firmly. “In a past encounter, you insulted me. I have no intention of being mocked during this one.”

“And I have no intention of doing so.”

“Then what is your intention, Ma’am?” Paulina boldly asked. “Are you trying to – that is to say . . . is this another attempt at bribery? Is that your purpose in being here? Because I, well, to be perfectly honest, I suspect that you invited me to the Garden party to show me of the society that I might inhabit if I were to do your bidding, but as stated prior, I will not, nor will I ever.”

“You are passionate, Miss Balcázar. You are also a fool.”

“A fool?” repeated Paulina, her right brow beginning to twitch.

“You are a fool in thinking my purpose in being here is to attempt to bribe you.” She stared at Paulina with a hard, scrutinizing gaze. “Your sentiments were made clear to me during our last visit. And I have no intention of ever propositioning you in that manner again. Nor, for the sake of honest, did I ever truly proposition you in that fashion.”

“How dare you?”

“How dare I what?” snapped the Queen.

“How dare you sit there and tell me that you never propositioned me with a bribe!” hissed Paulina. “I was forcibly taken to Sandringham in order for you to insult me by trying to bribe into persuading Henry into acting how you want him to act. And now you’re sitting here, pretending –”

“Again, you are allowing your passions to run wild, than to simply sit quietly and listen to what I have to say.”

“I don’t want to listen to what you have to say.” Paulina grew flustered. “And I don’t think you have any right to demand that I do.”

“I have every right when I am trying to make amends.” She waited to see if Paulina was going to keep running at the mouth, but when Paulina remained silent, the Queen decided to continue. “I am aware of the unpardonable treatment you were subjected to on behalf of my two security details. They were disciplined. I saw to it personally.”

“What kind of discipline?” Paulina asked.

“They were issued a suspension and forced to undergo a course regarding appropriate behavior.” The Queen replied. “I had not ordered them to fetch you against your will. I had told them to send for you, because I knew my grandson was in Sandringham with me, and I didn’t want him to know that I had sent for you.”

“You didn’t want him to know, because you didn’t want him to find out that you wanted to bribe me!” proclaimed Paulina.

“I never intended to actually bribe you!” The Queen declared. “My sole intention was to proposition you, to see the character of the young woman whom my grandson was besotted with.”

“You put me through hell just so you could see what kind of woman I am?” Paulina snarled. “That’s disgusting.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“The right thing to do would’ve been to invite me over to tea, to talk with me and see for yourself what kind of person I am, or better yet, the right thing to do would’ve been to hire someone to follow me around, to keep tabs and tell you what I'm like in my day to day life.” Paulina took note of the way the Queen tensed. “That’s what you did wasn’t it? You had someone following me around all day, but you weren’t satisfied with their findings, because you didn’t find a gold digging tart. You didn’t find something that would justify your hatred of me.”

“As Queen it is my duty to ensure that my family is properly looked after. I have learned, the hard way, of the importance of securing suitable connections for ones family. And I will not apologize for having in the manner which I did.”

“But you said you were here to make amends,” pointed out Paulina.

“I am. That is precisely my business in being here, but I will not apologize. I can not bring myself to regret the manner of our first meeting. I do apologize for the mistreatment you endured, but as for the actual meeting, I do not, nor could I ever. It was as a result of that that I learned of your unwavering love and loyalty to my grandson. You stood up to a Queen, something that not many would have done. And in doing so, you secured my respect.”

“I never wanted your respect.”

“You wanted my approval,” the Queen stated, knowingly. “You wanted to know that Harry would be left alone, that he would no longer be incessantly pestered by my person. Do you deny it?”

“I don’t. But I didn’t want it to happen this way. I didn’t want to be played with. I might not have a title or wealth, but I have my self respect, and I am worth more than those stuck up society girls that follow your grandson around. My value is intrinsic. It lies in my heart, my mind. And if you hadn’t been so obsessed with the fact that I'm a Catholic American, you would’ve known that I would never accept a bribe.” Paulina paused. “I mean, did you know that News of the World offered me a million pounds to drop the case? They said they would even offer more, but I didn’t take it, I refused, even though that money would’ve set me up, I didn’t take it because my self respect isn’t for sale.”

“I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Well they did. I would’ve gotten a million pounds, it would’ve been put somewhere that my government would’ve never known, it would’ve been convenient and quiet, and no one would have found out, but I didn’t take it, because I'm better than that. And I thought you would be better than toying with someone’s feelings. I always thought you were this amazing woman. When I read about you in high school world history, I thought you were just this powerful being, an exemplary woman, but you’re not, you’re just as petty as everyone else.”

The Queen stood up. “See here, Miss Balcázar. Petty is something that I am not. If I propositioned you it was in order to ensure that you were not like the society girls which you have only just spoken of. I know that people turn on their charm whenever the Queen is around; they make themselves more amiable than they truly are, you did it yourself at the Garden Party, you donned the act despite harboring hatred towards me, and I will not reproach you for that. If you are to be with my grandson, certain acting skills are necessary. But what I mean to say is that I will not apologize for what I did, and I do not believe that you will hold it against me for you have a sound mind, you are clever, and if anyone is to understand the reasons behind my actions it is you. Perhaps you will not believe so at this particular moment, but you will. I know it.” She declared. “And when the time comes, you will be in company once more. I have given my approval, sanctioned the relationship if you will, and in time, I believe you will come to hold me in higher regards.” She opened her purse, and took out a small box. “This is for you.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Did I ask whether or not you wanted it? No. I said it was for you. Now you’ve insulted me enough, and I have borne it better than I would have if you were anyone else. Now indulge me and take this, please.”

Paulina didn’t even say thank you, she just took it.

“Open it, if you will.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And I would prefer if you did. So that I might explain it,” the Queen spoke.

Without saying anything, Paulina opened the beautifully wrapped box, and inside there lay a card.

“I thought you said you weren’t trying to bribe me.” Paulina commented as she closed the box. “Here. I’ve opened it and I’ve decided I don’t want it.”

“It isn’t a bribe, Miss Balcázar.”

“It’s a credit card. I consider that a bribe.”

“It’s not a credit card.” The Queen said. “It is a card, one which I procured from British Airways for you, to aid in your travels.”

“I can pay for my own flights, thank you very much.”

“Can you truly? How many times do you plan on flying to London? And how much does each trip cost? You have an education to finance. That alone is where your money must go. Your flights to England, I shall finance. You simply present this to the counter at the airport, and you shall be seen to.”

“That might be so, but I don’t want it. I don’t want you to think I owe you a favor for this.”

“There is only one favor that I ask of you, that is to make Harry happy. I may not have wanted to admit this in the past, but he . . . he is all the better for you. I can no longer deny that. And I do not wish for him to suffer because you’re in America.”

“I can’t accept this though.” Paulina closed the box. “I . . . I'm touched, but I can’t accept this.”

“This isn’t a trick.” The Queen said. “I am not testing you.”

“I know, but I don’t want it. Here.” She handed it back. “Thank you, but no thank you, Ma’am.”

“Very well then,” the Queen placed the box back inside her purse. “I believe it’s time I take my leave. Good night, Miss Balcázar.” Before Paulina could curtsey, the Queen stretched out her hand for her to shake. “I trust we will be on better terms after this.”