The Thrill Is Gone

“Alistair!” bellowed Harry as he stormed into the staff’s break area. “For fuck’s sake – Alistair! Get your arse over here!” He’d been informed by a servant that Alistair was watching the teli in the staff area with Kamal, but when Harry arrived, Alistair was nowhere in sight. “I don’t have time for this,” he muttered to himself, tugging at his ginger locks out of frustration. “Kamal,” he said. “Have you seen Alistair? I was told he’d be here, but I’m looking about and there’s no sign of him.”

“That’s due to his having stepped out for a moment, Sir.” Kamal no longer sat, he stood tall in front of the prince. “He received quite an important call from his mother, regarding his brother’s health.”

Harry grimaced. “Do ya know if he’s going to have to take time off? Because I need him here. I need him to –” he cut himself short, not wanting to air out his problems in front of the other staff. They might have been trustworthy, but he knew their main allegiance was to their father, and that they wouldn’t hesitate in informing Prince Charles, of what Harry was to say.

“To what, Sir?” Kamal inquired, dutifully. “Perhaps I might be of assistance.”

“You?” Harry thought it over. Kamal would do quite well. He could sort the necessary things out for him, and get him the information he needed. “Yes, yes, I reckon you can.” He nodded to himself, the faraway look in his eyes, making him seem not all there. “Well, follow me to my room. Forget whatever you were doing. I need you, now.”

It was clear to Kamal that something serious was the matter, but what it was, he couldn’t be sure. Harry hadn’t been partying lately. Ever since the picture of the scantily dressed woman sitting on his lap came out, he’d been staying in and spending time only with his immediate family. So Kamal knew for a fact that he hadn’t gotten himself into any trouble with the press or his friends, but it was clear to him that Harry was in trouble, that the young prince was deeply distressed. The only possibility that came to Kamal’s mind was that something was the matter with Paulina. He, on several occasions, had heard Harry fighting with Paulina over the phone. He’d borne witness to those lengthy, passionate arguments that always seemed to end with Harry slamming down his phone or launching it somewhere. So whatever was wrong, whatever had gone awry, had to be related to her. And since the tit incident had only happened three short days ago, Kamal had a feeling that Harry’s current distress stemmed from the fact that his girlfriend felt betrayed.

Knowing that, Kamal began thinking up scenarios in which his abilities would be necessary. What exactly would Harry need him for? Better yet, what had Harry needed Alistair so desperately for? That question wasn’t one that Kamal could answer for himself. He couldn’t see a reason for Harry needing his security details, because if he’d gotten himself into another fight with his girlfriend, then it was only Harry and Paulina that could make things right again. They were the only two people that could fix things between them? So why was Harry so set on having him there? What could they do that Harry couldn’t?

Kamal pondered that throughout the entire walk to Harry’s chambers. He thought up various scenarios and tried to prepare himself as best he could for whatever was asked of him, but try as he did, he wasn’t ready for Harry asked.

“Kamal,” spoke Harry once they were within the confines of his chambers. “I’ve . . . well, there’s a favor that I need doing, but it’s got to be private, just between us. I don’t need anyone knowing my business. Alright? Well, on second thought, Alistair can be informed, but no one else.”

“Yes, Sir, of course.” Kamal replied, dutifully. “The errands you have me run are always executed with the upmost discretion.”

“Good, very good.” Harry took a moment to gather his thought. “I . . . uh . . . well, I suppose I ought to start from the beginning if this is to make any sense at all. I’ve only recently just got off the phone with Paulina, and, uh, she said something that struck me . . .” That was putting it lightly. He’d never been more confused or infuriated in all his life. “She mentioned, though only in passing, that there’d been an incident with my Gran and her security details. I, uh, had half a mind to go off to ask Gran about it, but I reckoned that wouldn’t be best, so I thought you might be able to do a bit of snooping around for me. I mean, I don’t exactly who it is your mates with as a security detail, but I reckon you’ve connections with hers, and I . . . I really need you to do this for me, Kamal. I need you to do this quite desperately.”

“And what is it that you wish me to confirm, Sir?” Kamal knew exactly what it was. He’d been dreading the day that Harry found out about what happened between Her Majesty’s security details and his American girlfriend.

“That . . .” Harry shut his eyes, remembering the words she’d said in her heated rant. “. . . That she was kidnapped by them. I know it sounds preposterous, but she’s not one to lie. She has many faults, believe me, but lying isn’t one of them. So I need you to find out exactly what happened. I need you to tell me what went on, when it went on, and which bastards took her in like that.”

Perhaps another man would’ve bought himself time by saying that he would figure things out, that it would take a week, perhaps two, to find the necessary information. That would buy enough time to warn the Queen of what had happened, to ready themselves for the telling off and possible termination that was to come, but Kamal wasn’t another man. He wasn’t about to pretend to be ignorant of the matter. He had been a willing participant, and although he had done his best to protect Miss Balcázar, he had been part of the group that kidnapped her. And as such, he was going to fess up to it all, and assume whatever befell him for that.

“Sir,” he began, his voice firm, despite the anxiety mounting within him. “If that is all you wish to know, then there is no need for me to gather any intelligence from my fellow security details.”

“What?” Harry asked, unsure as to what Kamal meant. “What do you mean you don’t have to gather intelligence? Of course you do. How else am I to know what happened?”

“You’ll know through me, Sir.” Kamal stated. “From my firsthand account, you will know all you wish to.”

“Firsthand account?” repeated Harry, disbelief apparent in his voice. “Kamal, how would you have a firsthand account? That would mean that you were . . . there.” He paused. His eyes narrowing at the thought. “Were you there?”

“I . . .” there was a moment’s hesitation, a moment in which Kamal genuinely feared what was about to happen. The look of utter betrayal and disgust on Harry’s face momentarily overwhelmed him, and he feared what Harry might do once he found out what had gone on, but instead of backing down, instead of using some lie to appease the manic looking prince, Kamal went ahead and took ownership of what happened on that cold night in December. “I was indeed present, Sir.”

“How could you have been?” roared Harry, turning a most violent shade of red. “How could you’ve been present? Goddamn it, Kamal!”

Without thinking, Harry rushed Kamal, thus pinning him against the wall. Harry held him there, his arms trembling as they exerted themselves to keep the muscular security detail in place. Not that there was actually much use to them. If Kamal had wanted to, he wouldn’t have had any problem pushing Harry off him. The young prince was strong, muscular enough, but he was no match for Kamal. The vigorous physical training that the security details went through every single day, ensured that his body was a well formed weapon. And the only reason that Kamal was pinned against the wall, was because he was humoring the prince. He had broken the young man’s trust, and now he was dealing with the consequences.

“Sir . . .” Kamal began to speak.

“For fuck’s sake!” Harry snapped, completely disregarding the fact that Kamal wanted an opportunity to explain himself. “How could you do that to her? Of all people to treat like that, why her? She’s only ever been kind to you, only ever been friendly! How many times has she cooked for you? Has she fussed over you? Damn it, Kamal! Don’t you remember the times you were in her flat? All those times she had you over like a friend, and not like the help?”

“Of course, I remember!” Kamal bellowed, forgetting himself for a moment.

“Then why?” Harry pressed. “Why would you have kidnapped her with those bastards?”

“It wasn’t our intention.” Kamal stated in a more even tone. “Believe me, had that been our aim, I wouldn’t have agreed to accompany James and Mason. The orders I received on behalf of Her Majesty, were to escort Miss Balcázar to Sandringham. Those were the orders we were all given. That was why I gladly accompanied them, because Her Majesty desired that there be a familiar face to make the journey tolerable for Miss Balcázar.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Harry, his grip on Kamal not loosening. “If that were the case, Paulina wouldn’t have said she was kidnapped, but she said kidnapped so I know what you said happened wasn’t happened.”

“It was what happened, but it also wasn’t.”

“Speak clearly!” Harry demanded. “What happened? Why did Paulina say she was kidnapped?”

“Because she was, technically.”

“Technically?” Harry cocked his brow. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that we arrived at her flat and explained that Her Majesty desired an audience with her. After a brief discussion, Miss Balcázar agreed to accompany us, but she agreed under the belief that we were to take her to London.”

“Why did you tell her it was London instead of Sandringham?”

“We didn’t,” replied Kamal, hastily. “We simply stated that Her Majesty desired an audience. It wasn’t until we were in the vehicle that James or Mason informed her that we were to make the drive to Sandringham. It was then that . . . well, it was then that things took a turn for the worse. Miss Balcázar wasn’t pleased by the news. She explicitly expressed her desire to remain at Oxford, and charged us with informing the Queen that she would not have an audience with her under the present circumstances. This was not seen favorably by the others, they told her that they were taking her no matter what, that what the Queen wanted, the Queen got. Naturally, that displeased Miss Balcázar, and in very Balcázar fashion, she vocally expressed her opposition and made an attempt to escape, an attempt that was met with . . .” he was ashamed to say what happened next, ashamed to have held her while James bound her hands together “. . . with handcuffs.”

Handcuffs. That was why the skin along her wrists had been so greatly irritated. She hadn’t had a run in with the private security at a club. She’d had a run in with his grandmother’s security details, they were the ones that had done that to her. They were the reason why she’d taken to wearing long sweaters to sleep in December. They were the reason why there were a few faint scared scattered about her wrist. It had been the royal security details that put her through hell, not some second rate bouncer. Try as he did, he couldn’t believe that that had been his grandmother’s doing, her security details had physically harmed his girlfriend, and Harry wouldn’t forgive that.

“You bastard!” cried Harry, a crazed glint in his eye. “How could you do that to her? How could you let her wrists become so bloodied and torn? After everything she’s done. After how lovely she’d been to you.”

“It wasn’t my idea, Sir.” Kamal argued. “Miss Balcázar tried to leave, but –”

“Then you should’ve let her go!”

“I wanted to.” Kamal declared. “By God, I wanted to. I implored Mason that she not be treated like a criminal. I told him that if we were to take her against her will, in handcuffs, that he would be the one that would have to answer to you for Paulina’s having been disrespected, but he said that he would rather deal with you than to show up empty handed. He desired nothing more than to please Her Majesty, and he thought not about what was right, only of what was convenient.”

“You could’ve helped her escaped,” said Harry, his grip not loosening.

“I could have.” Kamal admitted. “But I didn’t. I was far too afraid to go against Mason’s orders, though later on in our trip, I did just that. I kept him from muzzling her.”

“Why would she have been muzzled?

“She screamed the entire way, Sir. There was not a moment’s peace, and that greatly disturbed Mason.”

“So he wanted to muzzle her like a dog?”

Kamal nodded. “But I kept him from doing so. That, you may ask Miss Balcazar. She will verify my statement. She will verify everything I said. And I swear to you, Sir, that after her meeting with the Queen, I was the one that personally escorted her home. I saw to her being well looked after, and took her to a pharmacy to procure ointments for her wrists. I apologize for what happened. It wasn’t right, not in the least.”

“You should have told me.” Harry said, slightly loosening his grasp. “What loyalty is there if you didn’t tell me?”

“There is plenty of loyalty, Sir.” Kamal declared. “Miss Balcázar made me swear that I would not divulge the information.”

“You’re lying.”

“I am not.”

Harry stared firmly into Kamal’s eyes, searching for any trace of deceit, but he found none.

“Why did she tell you not to tell me?” inquired Harry.

“She did not wish to cause any trouble.” Kamal replied. “She wished to avoid distressing you.”

“So she kept it a secret for over a year and a half?” Harry’s brow furrowed, and he finally let Kamal go. “But they kidnapped her. You kidnapped her.”

“And I have apologized, time and time again.”

“She should’ve told me,” muttered Harry. “She should’ve let me know! Why would she keep that a secret? That’s not the sort of thing a person’s meant to keep quiet. She was taken against her will, she was handcuffed. She should’ve told me! For fucks sake, she should’ve told me!” He gritted his teeth, trying to steady himself. “And what did my Gran want with her? What’d they discuss?”

“That, I do now know.” Kamal answered. “I was not privy to such information.”

“But you took her to where my Gran was.”

“I did.” Kamal confirmed. “But once we arrived, I was escorted to where the help’s meant to be, and Miss Balcázar was taken before the Queen.”

“Didn’t Paulina say anything though? She must’ve said something. I know her.”

“She didn’t say anything.” Kamal’s features softened at the memory. “She only cried. She cried the entire way home, Sir.”

Harry said nothing for a moment, only stood there, processing the information given. His grandmother had sent security details to escort his girlfriend to a private audience, an audience held months before the Garden Party in Buckingham Palace. His girlfriend had been handcuffed, taken before the Queen, and then left, crying her eyes out. What had been said? What had been done? And why hadn’t she told him? Why had she kept all that a secret? Had he been her, he would’ve told her right away, he would’ve wanted her to have sorted things out for him, but she’d kept quiet. She’d endured that in silence, and the thought of her caring so much for his wellbeing, that she willingly endured that on her own, only made him love her even more.

“Go get the car,” whispered Harry.

“Sir?”

“Get the car.” Harry said, more forcefully. “We’re going to Balmoral.”

“Are you quite certain?” Kamal inquired, momentarily forgetting his station. “Sir, I do not think it –”

“It doesn’t matter what you think.” Harry snapped. “What matters is that I told you to get the car ready. Now go!”

They drove through the night, only stopping for petrol when it was absolutely necessary. It would’ve been wiser to fly out, a much quicker trip, but Harry demanded that they drive. He needed time to think things over, to figure out how he was going to approach his grandmother, what he was going to say. He couldn’t believe that his grandmother had gone behind his back to meet his girlfriend. All along, he’d imagined that their first meeting had been at Buckingham Palace, and that his grandmother had been so pleased by his girlfriend, that she had made herself amiable and exceedingly welcoming to her, but apparently that hadn’t been the case. Apparently, his grandmother had sent her security details to fetch his girlfriend, and apparently, after they finished talking, his girlfriend stormed out with tears streaming down her face. He couldn’t believe that that had actually happened, and although he hadn’t a clue as to what had been said, he had a feeling that his grandmother had insulted Paulina, because Paulina wasn’t one that cried easily, something really had to strike her.

When they arrived at Balmoral Castle, the sun was only just rising. The staff inside was waking up to get ready to carry out their duties, and his grandparents were fast asleep. Harry was aware of the fact that it was far too early for his grandparents to be awake, but he didn’t care that it was a quarter to five in the morning, he didn’t give a fuck that his grandparents were sleeping.

“Sir, perhaps it’d be wise that we postpone this until later in the day.” Kamal advised. “It is far too early, only a quarter to five. Surely, Her Majesty will not be awake at this hour.”

“I don’t give a fuck whether or not she’s awake.” Harry spat. “She’s going to hear me out. Now go on, get us through the bloody security check. I’ve words that need saying. Oh! And if you say either of those bastards, you’d do well to bloody point them out to me. Alright? I’ve a few things to say to them as well.”

Kamal said nothing, only nodded dutifully. He drove them to the check point, where he gave his identification and then lowered the window enough for the guard on duty to ascertain that it was truly Prince Harry in the backseat. That done, he drove them right up to the main entrance, where an attendant awaited them. The attendant in question had been woken only a few short minutes earlier when the guards phoned ahead to say that His Royal Highness was on his way, and after having thrown on suitable clothes, he ran over to meet them. He was to park the car while Harry and Kamal let themselves in. The pair was to be waited on by the housekeeper and butler, but when they stepped inside, Harry paid them no mind, he simply ran up the stairs and led himself to his grandmother’s personal chambers.

Harry tried to open the door, but found that it was locked. Not knowing what else to do, he simply raised his fist to the large, ornately carved wooden door, and proceeded to pound on it with everything he had. He worked out some of his frustration on the door, striking it repeatedly as he screamed for his Gran to open the bloody door already.

The Queen didn’t hear the pounding and screaming at first. She and Philip had been out late, at a charity event for one of their patronages, but after about half a minute, she finally woke, and when she registered just what was going on, she climbed out of bed. With sleep filled eyes, she reached out for her shawl, a thick wool shawl that would protect her from the morning cold. She walked towards the door as best she could, and when she opened it, she immediately began making the necessary inquiries.

“Is everything alright, Harry?” she inquired, attempting to rub the sleep from her eyes. “Did something happen to Charles? Perhaps William? Do give me a minute, and then I shall sort whatever it is out. Unless, of course, it is serious. Is it something quite serious?” She grew nervous at the thought of something having happened to her son or grandson. “Harry,” she said, forcefully. “Did something quite serious happen? Do tell me!”

“Nothing happened to dad or Wills,” stated Harry. “But it’s you that’s done something quite serious, quite bloody serious indeed.”

“Harry.” She said his name in a scolding fashion. “Why on earth are you speaking like that? Are you drunk? Honestly, it’s one thing to drink with those whores in London, but to show up here at these ungodly hours –”

“I’m not drunk!” Harry declared. “I’m here because you went behind my back and put my girlfriend through hell!”

“I did no such thing.”

“You did!” he argued. “Or have you forgotten about when your security details went out to fetch her? Did you forget how they treated her? Like some fucking criminal.”

Her eyes widened. She was startled, so clearly taken aback by what he was saying.

“Harry,” she said his name softly, hesitantly. “How do you know about that?”

“So you don’t deny it.”

“How do you know?” she pressed, not bothering to answer his question.

“How do you think?” he spat. “She told me!” he bellowed. “She fucking told me that your details had kidnapped her.”

“How dare you speak to me in that manner?” She was aghast. “I am your grandmother!”

“Then why did you go behind my back to do that? Why did you send those bastards to her flat? If you wanted to have an audience with her, ya could’ve told me and I would’ve sorted things out for her, but no. You didn’t want me to know! You sent those prats out when you knew I was going to be in Sandringham!”

“And what if I did?” she shot back. “There was nothing wrong with inviting her to an audience with me. If anything you should be glad that I sent for her after such a short period!”

“I would be if you hadn’t kept it quiet.” He stepped closer to her. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that you met her? Why did you pretend like the Garden Party was the first time you met?”

“Because that’s how we decided to play it.” The drowsiness vanished from her eyes, she no longer looked the part of the tired old woman. She reassumed her place as Queen. “Neither myself nor Miss Balcázar gave the incidence much importance.”

“How can you say that when she went home crying? When her wrists were all bloodied up?!”

“Keep your voice down.” The Queen ordered. “Your grandfather’s not been feeling well. It’s best to let him have his rest.”

“And it would’ve been best if you’d told me what happened, but you didn’t.”

Irritated, the Queen forcefully shoved her grandson out of the way, and then, once she was also standing in the corridor, she shut the door behind her. She wasn’t about to have Philip wake up, not after the night they’d had, and especially not since he’d been unwell for the last few days.

“The reason as to why I did not tell you about our audience, was due to entirely to the fact that there was nothing worth telling.” The Queen explained.

“You had her kidnapped and made her cry. That sounds like loads worth telling to me.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line. “It wasn’t my intention for her to be kidnapped. I sent my best men because I wanted to ensure her comfort while being escorted to Sandringham.”

“And look at how that went.” Harry spat. “They handcuffed her like some common criminal, and then your beloved Mason even meant to muzzle her.”

“That’s an outrageous lie.”

“It’s quite the opposite, actually. He wanted to muzzle her, because she refused to keep quiet. She put up a fight the entire way, kept screaming at the top of her lungs, and it got so bad that he wanted to muzzle her, but thankfully that didn’t happen.” He paused. “Now tell me, what was so important for you to say to her? Why did you hold a private audience with her?”

“That’s knowledge shared between only myself and the lady in question.”

“The hell it is,” said Harry, gruffly. “That’s knowledge that I want to be given. I’ve a right to know what happened! If someone had done that to grandfather, you would’ve demanded to be informed of everything!”

“Because I am the Queen!” she declared.

“And I am your grandson.” He reminded. “And I deserve to know what happened. Now for the love of God, tell me. Tell me or else I’ll throw one of those scenes I’m so good at throwing, one so utterly humiliating that the press will talk about it for months.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” She couldn’t believe the nerve of him to threaten her.

“Oh, I would.”

“Not likely.” She stared at him in that harsh, cold way that she stared at those who undermined her. “You might be willing to humiliate me, but not Miss Balcázar.”

“Well the joked on you then, because she broke up with me.” His voice slightly cracked.

“She broke up with you?” she whispered in astonishment. “But . . . no . . . no, this cannot be. This is not how things were meant to happen at all. She’s . . . she’s meant to be yours – ours.” Her brow furrowed. “What did you do?” she asked. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing that concerns you.” Harry spat.

“Of course it concerns me!” she hissed. “She’s yours, you insufferable child! She was meant to be yours!”

“That’s what I thought to!” He said through gritted teeth. “And she will be again. We’ve only got to sort things out.”

“What did you do wrong?” she asked, completely ignoring him. “Was it the doing of those tasteless photographs? Of you out with those easy virtue women? Honestly Harry, I told you to mind yourself! Time and time again, I stressed the importance of being sensible, but you –”

“Don’t you bloody try to lecture me!” he cut her off. “I’m not here to discuss that with you. I’m here to find out why Paulina was brought before you. What did you want to talk about with her?”

“Things that are not relevant to you,” she replied, calmly.

“Whatever you talked about had to do with me. Now fucking tell me, because I’ve had a hell of a night and I’m not about to leave until I find out what happened!”

“Then I am afraid you shall never leave this castle.”

“Is that so?” Harry was going to force her to talk. So he walked off in direction of a nineteenth century vase that his grandmother adored, and grabbed if off the table. “If you don’t tell me what you talked about, I’ll break this fucking vase.”

“You can’t!” she cried out. “That’s from Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee!”

“Tell me!” Harry demanded, growing manic.

“You have no right to tell me what to do!” she yelled. “I am the Queen!”

“Then this vase is no more.” Harry lifted the vase high above his head, and then sent it hurling towards the ground.

“You stupid child,” whispered the Queen. “Do you not understand the value of history? Of our history?”

“I do.” He stated, defiantly. “And that’s why I want to know what happened.”

“I will not disclose what was discussed.” She declared. “I will not play into your games.”

“Then maybe I should have a go at that painting that my great grandfather, King George VI, was so fond of.”

“You wouldn’t dare . . .”

“I would,” said Harry. “You know I would. So just tell me.”

The rational side of her demanded that she remain firm, that she not play into his childish little game, that she demonstrate that the Queen would not be coerced, but the more sentimental side of her, didn’t want to see that painting ruined. It had been her father’s favorite, a piece he’d commissioned in honor of her birth. It was a large painting of the two of them, him standing with her in his arms. And to her, it was so much more than just a painting. It was her in her father’s arms, before she had any sense of what duty meant, before she had to put her country first. That painting embodied the only time in her life when she was allowed to just be, it was her freedom, the time before she was thrust into her education of what it meant to be a member of the royal family.

“I wanted . . .” she began to say, her sentiments overpowering her mind. “I wanted to see if her attachment was sincere.”

“And how did you go about that?”

“Harry . . .”

“How did you go about that?” he pressed.

She was embarrassed to say it, but did not permit her face to appear distressed. “I made an attempt at bribery.”

“You what?”

“I am quite certain you understood what I said.”

“Why would you do that though? You’re meant to be better than that! You’re the bloody Queen!”

“That is precisely why I took it upon myself to know her true character.”

“You could’ve asked me! I would’ve told you of her fucking character. You didn’t have to go and do that. You didn’t have to insult her.”

“But I did,” she said calmly. “For all I knew, she could’ve been putting on an act for you, making you fall in love so that she could take advantage of you. That wouldn’t have been the first time, a woman had manipulated a man from the royal family. And I feared that perhaps, that might have been the case, so I took it upon myself to get her in a private setting where we would be able to speak frankly. And she spoke most frankly.” The Queen paused, remembering the words that had been used. “Believe it or not, she told me that I ought to go fuck myself. She said quite a few other things as well, all quite hostile. And I was quite pleased by her, because that night I discovered that she was a remarkably loyal young woman whom loved you quite passionately. Now, you may look upon me with disgust if you so desire, but know that I do not regret my actions. I ascertained that Miss Balcázar is fit to lead a life at your side, and to play a part in the monarchy if she so ever desires. So know that you will receive no apology from me for what occurred. I owe you none. I already took the liberty of apologizing to Miss Balcázar for the mistreatment she endured, I also disciplined the security details responsible for it. I now feel this issue is no longer worth being discussed. What had to be said, has been said. The young lady and I have moved on since then. She and I, are on better terms. We now meet as intimate acquaintances, and I hold her in high regard. So now, I think it only right that you do leave me and tend to your own matters.”

“But I’m not done talking with you.” Harry protested.

“You might not be, but I surely am.” She stated, firmly. “Now go and make things right, because I can assure you that you will regret her every day of your life if you two do not make amends. For surely, you know that your true happiness depends on her, as hers, depends on you.”