Diary of a Reluctant Ruler

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Starter – option of; butternut squash soup with crème fraîche; smoked salmon and chive pate; garlic and basil ciabatta.
Dinner – option of; kale, olive and gruyere tart; flambéed chicken with asparagus and new potatoes; roast duck breast with maple syrup vinaigrette, spinach and mushrooms.
Palate Cleanser – option of; lemon, lime or mint sorbet; sliced melon.
Dessert – option of; white and dark chocolate terrine; lemon and lime, baked cheesecake; fresh berry trifle.
Choice of assorted tea (herbal, green or breakfast) and coffee.

My mouth began to water.

“Here cherie,” Madeleine said, passing me a piece of cucumber from the salad she was chopping. I munched it absent-mindedly, my thoughts dwelling upon Hogwarts-sized feasts.

“This is… amazing,” I mentioned after a moment.

“Merci,” she grinned, “It wouldn’t do to skimp on the crown princess’s wedding dinner.”

“No…” I mumbled.

“And this, is your second reception menu,” she continued, stealing the first menu from my hands and replacing it with a simpler single sheet menu of brown paper.

Sizzling barbecue skewers; lamb, pepper, onion.
Chargrilled chicken with devilled tomato sauce.
Mozzarella and cherry tomato cocktail sticks.
Variety of cold meats and cheese with crackers.
Roasted & peppered potato skins.
Fruit salad.

I let slip a little moan of anticipation, and Madeleine passed me another piece of cucumber with a smile on her face.

“We’ll cook outside if you like,” Madeleine suggested, “Though I’d have to make an off-limits area or your father would probably start to interfere… you know what men are like around barbecues. Pyromaniacs the lot of them.”

“Who’s a pyromaniac?” James asked standing hesitantly on the threshold of the palace kitchens.

“Men generally,” I smiled, greeting him with a short, sharp kiss, “Have a look at these gorgeous creations.”

I passed him the menus and watched the hunger pass over his face. It was still an hour until dinner time, and neither of us had eaten yet as we’d attended several human rights conferences in a row since breakfast, none of which had offered anything more than a cup of tea and a biscuit in their interims.

Hungry…

I have located the only food source for a mile.

What is it?!

Your brains. I will have to eat them before I starve.

NOOOOO!!! Stay away from my brains! I need them!!

Really? You don’t seem to use them very often.

I do, I do, I do!

Let’s test that theory. What’s two plus two?

Five! No, six! No, four! Please don’t eat my brains, I’ll use them better in the future, I swear. Just don’t eat them!

I shall relent… for now. They probably wouldn’t be greatly appetising.

James had finished looking over the menu and was thanking Madeleine for her hard work. Her replies were dismissive, but I could tell by the twitching smile on her face that she was pleased.

“Anyway, Phil, I have something to show you,” James cut off, taking my hand, “Might I steal her?”

“She’s your fiancée,” Madeleine nodded.

A little rush of happy pleasure went through my stomach. That word never got old, however many times I heard it.

James took me outside, staying mum to all my questioning. His path wound out across the terrace and down towards the lawn behind the hedge. He stopped just before rounding the bend.

“Number 34,” he prompted, smiling slightly.

“Been camping,” I replied after a moment’s thought, “Oh!”

From menus to tents…

Who’d guess that connection?

Well, menus are written on paper, which is derived from trees, which are found in forests, which are found in the countryside which is were most people go to camp, which is when they sleep outdoors in a tent… so voila!

Sometimes you think too much.

“Oh yes,” James grinned, pulling me round the bend.

Set up on the lawn was set up a medium sized two man tent, bright blue and yellow, with the front ‘porch’ unfurled and set up leaving an inviting view to the white insect net inside. I laughed and ran over, looking inside. Two sleeping bags were laid out inside, with two torches, camping mats and a small gas cooking stove.

“It’s mostly my stuff,” James began, sitting down on the ground sheet outside as I explored all the minute aspects of the tent, “I just bought another sleeping bag for you, and borrowed Olly’s mat – she never really did like camping.”

“It’s so cute!” I cried, throwing my arms around him and hugging him tight.

“Cute? Interesting term for a tent…”

“Urgh, I use the word cute for everything,” I replied, pulling the red sleeping bag over my head.

“Wellthatreallydevaluesthecomment,” James mumbled outside.

“What?” I called.

James pulled the sleeping bag off my head, “Idiot.”

“I’ll have you know I’m extremely clever,” I replied, smugly.

“Whatever,” James smirked, “When do you want to go?”

“Go where?” I asked, confused.

“Camping, fool,” he laughed, “You’ve got a very good disguise for your genius…”

“Oh,” I replied, my heart sinking a little.

Thinking about camping was all very well, but I wasn’t sure Mum or Dad, let alone Grandma would be greatly happy about me going out into the wilderness with a young man I wasn’t (yet) married to, perfect prey for any paparazzi who should get wind of the plan, who would probably then plaster my rumpled bed-head popping out of a tent next to James’ across the front page, with the title Jacinthe Gets Royal Treatment and Exclusive on Meredith and James’ Secret Camping Liaison! Neither did camping within the Palace grounds with Jade on lookout sound greatly appealing. Plus, I might very well be tempted to do something which the papers would love, but I wasn’t entirely sure was a good idea yet…

“Not sure that’d work out too well,” I said after a moment.

“Why not?” James asked, already looking hurt.

My heart sank further as I tried to explain myself in the nicest way possible. But James seemed intent on becoming more sulky, and before I knew it we had gotten into an argument and I was sitting on my own in the gorgeous little tent feeling notoriously guilty. It quickly began to get dark, so I zipped up the side of the tent and made my way up to dinner.

I could feel James sulking across the table from me throughout the meal. I was ravenous but his distemper unsettled me, so I decided to make amends. Talking to Dad, I wound the topic of conversation towards outdoor pursuits and then James’ camping abilities… and then sneakily shot in the question of whether perhaps we could go camping at some point.

“I don’t see why not,” Dad replied, “It’s a great way of seeing the outdoors.”

“What’s this, Edward?” Grandma asked, haughty from across the other end of the table.

“Camping,” Dad replied, motioning to me and James with his fork, “Good way to see the country.

“Barbaric,” Grandma denounced, wrinkling her nose, “Sitting in a field in torrential rain with nothing but a thin slip of plastic between you and freezing to death? Completely preposterous notion from whoever thought it up.”

Damn.

I pursed my lips. That did not go to plan.

“Who’s thinking of going camping anyway?”

“Oh, Phil suggested it,” Dad waved his fork again.

“Edward, don’t wave your cutlery about so,” Grandma retorted, “Meredith, you can’t seriously be contemplating such a notorious idea, are you?”

She didn’t wait for my reply before continuing, “You shan’t be doing any such thing. Particularly not at this time of year. You’d be cornered by the paparazzi without a doubt, and camping has never been a viable photo opportunity.”

Silence reigned over the table for a moment.

“As long as we picked a secluded spot,” James ventured, “I’m sure-”

“Secluded spot?” Grandma cried, “The papers would go wild, it’s the perfect opportunity to pin free sexual license on you two. Not after all the good work you’ve put into building up such a reputation over the last six months.”

I sighed quietly.

Conversation returned to normal, and James caught my eye in a repentant manner across the table. I smiled sheepishly at him, trying not to make it look like an ‘I told you so’. As we finished tea a feeling of rebellion settled into my chest. Perhaps we could go camping regardless… perhaps it wouldn’t matter, no one would find us… If we went out late evening once everyone was asleep, and returned before anyone woke up…

I found James in the library later and proposed the idea to him.

“Merry, I think your grandma made it clear that it wasn’t a great idea,” James replied, still a little sulky but no longer in my direction.

“But if no one knew at all?” I suggested, “And we just camped in the woods, and got back early?”

“No,” James replied, “We’d be lying to your parents.”

“I’m eighteen,” I huffed, “I can go camping if I want to!”

Quite suddenly we were on opposite sides to our initial position. I suddenly saw the absurdity of what I was saying. There was no hurry. We had the rest of our lives to go camping.

“Since when were you the responsible one?” I asked, grudgingly.

“Since I’m two years and five months older than you,” James grinned.

“When we’re married?” I asked grudgingly.

“When we’re married,” James agreed.

Why did so much seem to depend on after we were married? After attempting to read a book for a little while, I left James with a goodnight kiss and went up to bed. Before I went to sleep, I took out several pieces of A4 and made myself a count down calendar to Tuesday April 12th. It looked like quite a large number of little black boxes when I’d finished, but there were only 47 of them.

47 days to go then…