As we continued to walk down dozens of hallways and up grand staircases, William continued talking about the different aspects of the job. But I barely paid any attention because my entire body was buzzing over what just happened.

Had I really just met Prince Harry? Was that real? William was acting like it never occurred. But I swear it did. I vividly remembered the pale blue button-down with white buttons and navy trousers he wore. I even recalled the way his sleeves were crumpled at the bicep from it being folded to the elbow and pushed further up his arm. It was too vivid to be made up.

“Did you hear me?” William asked, stopping and turning to face me. I wasn’t listening.

“What? Sorry.”

“I said,” he gave an exasperated sigh, “you don’t mind traveling, do you?”

“Oh, uh, no, not at all.”

“Good.” He turned and kept walking. “You will be expected to follow Prince Alfred on any and all official tours, as well as any formal family outings. If any of those events are to take place outside of the United Kingdom, you are expected to stay in the palace the night before to ensure you leave on time with His Royal Highness. Any questions so far?”

“Um, just one.” It had been nagging at the back of my mind since I got offered the job, but now that William was mentioning international travel, it seemed worth asking now rather than later.
“Go ahead,” William said stopping again.

“Well, it’s just… my camera and equipment are sort of expensive and I don’t have the funds to replace anything if it gets damaged or lost. Will there be any insurance for my camera of lenses or anything?”

“You had best hope nothing gets lost, Miss Pearson. But as for damages, that won’t be a problem–”

“No? Oh good–”

“–because you won’t be using your equipment.”

I stepped back a pace. “I won’t?”

William shook his head once. “The palace will grant you a newer, better camera and all the equipment needed. You will read it later tonight in the document I gave you as well, but any and all editing and work on the photos will have to be done on the grounds and not in any of your private living. This is simply for security precaution purposes. The palace and royal family cannot allow for the photos to be leaked prior to the press secretary agreeing on them. The computers at the palace are heavily guarded and monitored – practically impossible to hack.”

“O…kay…” I said slowly, suddenly feeling so stupid for bringing my camera. “Wait – I’ll be staying in the palace?”

I saw William give a hint of a smile – the first one I’d seen him ever give. It looked odd on him.

“Yes,” he answered, “but only if Prince Alfred is to go away the next day on official or formal business.” I looked around the hallway we were currently in. Even for a hallway, it was the grandest area I could have ever laid my eyes on. And someday, I’ll be sleeping here, if only for the night. He continued, “The staff’s quarters are in the southwest wing of the palace, below ground. They're small, but they aren’t meant to be grand anyways. I have my own area down there – it really isn’t that bad, despite what some of the other staff may tell you.”

“You live here?!” I gawked.

The flash of a smile was back again, and this time I felt like he was a father smiling at his child learning to read for the first time. “I have to. I have to wake up before anyone else and I often go to sleep after everyone’s gone to bed. It’s just more convenient.”

“Forgive me if I’m being too invasive, but do you have a family? A wife?” He must have been in his mid-fifties, but I couldn’t catch a glimpse of a wedding ring on his finger before he turned and began walking again through the hallway.

“No, no wife nor family. I prefer the solitary life, though. This job can be quite demanding and I wouldn’t have time to be a proper husband or father. This job is my marriage, I suppose.”

I was surprised he was opening up so much to me. Maybe his hard exterior I saw during the interview was just that – just for the interview, maybe to intimidate the interviewees. If that was true, it sure worked. Seeing him smile and say things like this job is my marriage didn’t fit the image I had of him during that interview.

By the time we finished the tour of the palace, or at least the parts I was allowed into, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. We walked back to his office on the other side of the palace, down on the ground floor. It took us nearly fifteen minutes just to walk there, the palace was so huge. In each room we entered, I searched for a glimpse of Prince Harry again, but he was nowhere to be found.

In his office, William offered me a chair and instead of sitting behind his desk, as usual, he sat on the chair beside me.

“So – what do you think? You think you can handle this job and all it entails?” He crossed his legs and clasped his hands together in his lap.

“I think so. The palace will give me a headache trying to remember where everything is and how to get somewhere, but in time I believe I can figure it out.”

“Here,” he said, standing and walking to the other side of his desk. He rifled through some papers before handing me a packet – much smaller than the previous one, thankfully. “It’s a map of the grounds. I would carry it around with you for a few days, just to get the layout.” He returned to the chair and his previous sitting position. “Do you have any more questions?”

I couldn’t get Prince Harry out of my mind, and now it was nagging at me the way he spoke to me. Again, like William, that image of Harry didn’t fit the one I’d had of him in my mind. He seemed so… cold, mean. Not at all like the soft-spoken, heartfelt man I pictured from all his photos and what I’d read about him (not that I’d read a ton).

“Is Prince Harry always so… gruff?” That was the most polite word I could think of.

William pursed his lips. “He must have been having an off day. I’m quite literally not allowed to speak ill of the royal family. And, now that you’re one of us, you’re not allowed, either. It’s another bullet point on the list I gave you. The last page of which, by the way, is a Non-Disclosure Agreement, which goes into effect the moment you sign it. Anything you see or hear within these walls or anytime you are accompanying the royal family, especially Alfred, you are contractually not allowed to say anything to anyone, no matter what.”

I gulped. “Yes, sir.”

He waved his hand. “I think we’re acquainted enough, or at least will be, for you to call me William.” I recalled Harry calling William Willy and dared not repeat that name for fear of upsetting him with all my laughing. “Well, if that’s it…” He stood and extended his hand. “I look forward to working with you, Miss Pearson.”

I stood and shook his outstretched hand. “If I can call you William, you can call me Carolina.”

---

Pippa was home by the time I walked through the door. She set down her glass of wine and paused whatever was playing on her laptop. It turned out to be an episode of Black Mirror.

“Oh my god, you’re finally back!” she exclaimed, running up and hugging me. “How was your first day? Tell me everything.” She went to the counter, pulled down a foggy wine glass, and poured me a glass. I set down my camera bag on the couch and began taking off my layers, which I was now thoroughly sweating through after walking up all seven flights of stairs.

I took the glass from her before sitting on the couch as well and said, “I better get a FitBit for all the walking I’m going to be doing. The palace is huge.” I dove into extreme detail, from what I could recall, about the ornamentation of each room and hallways we went down, still sad I wasn’t able to capture any of it on my camera for her. When I got to mention the throne room, I paused and said, “You’ll never guess what happened then.”

“The King walked in and kissed William on the mouth,” she said without hesitation.

“No. What? That’s the first thing that came to your mind?”

“Go on! Tell me! What happened?” She draped her arm over the back of the couch and curled her fist under her chin.

“Prince Harry walked in.”

“Fuck. Off.”

“He bumped into William and called him Willy.”

“Fuck. Off!”

“And then he looked at me.”

“FUCK. OFF.”

“William told him who I was and I tried to bow – which I seriously need some tutorials on – and Harry was all, ‘She better know what she’s doing. The last one was utterly terrible.’” I exaggerated his overly sophisticated way of speaking for dramatic effect, but it got my point across.

“What?”

“Yeah! In the moment I obviously didn’t even care what he said, you know, because he’s a bloody prince, but then I got to thinking and he was a right arse. I asked William about it later–”

“You did?”

“–and he was like–” I shrugged, “–‘Guess he was having a bad day.’”

Pippa rolled her eyes. “That’s no excuse to say that, honestly.”

I turned more forward on the couch, staring at the screen where a black and white image of a woman was frozen with a terrified face. “I don’t know. I thought he’d be different.” I spun the wineglass in my hand and took a large sip. I told myself I’d only drink one glass – I couldn’t be hungover at work tomorrow for my second day.

I continued filling her in on the rest of the day and showed her the huge packet William had given me earlier. I wasn’t sure if she was allowed to read it with me or not, but since I hadn’t signed any NDA yet, I figured it was fine. The rest of the night was us reading through the huge thing, with my signing the bottom of each page where there was a spot for my signature and date.

I had no idea how I was expected to remember everything in it, like how I wasn’t allowed to call Prince Alfred by his name, only by His Royal Highness, as with his brother as well. That won’t be too confusing. After today’s encounter, I didn’t think I’d want to bump into Prince Harry anyways. Then when it came to the king I had to call him His Majesty. I could only take photos when Prince Alfred said I was allowed to take his photo, and I was never, ever to be allowed into his private chambers. Weekly schedules would be given to me about where Alfred was to be and when, since I was expected to follow him every day except on weekends. If there were overnight trips planned anywhere, I would be given a two-week notice, if not a month’s notice. If a trip is planned for outside of the United Kingdom, I was always expected to accompany Prince Alfred.

Of course, there were some obvious rules, too – the days would start at 9 and end at 6 unless official business required me to stay longer, I was not allowed to date anyone on the staff, etc. By midnight, Pippa and I reached the NDA, which I read through thoroughly. Anything I saw or heard regarding the royal family was never to be discussed outside of the staff. Nothing I witnessed from the royal family was allowed to be discussed with anyone outside the staff. I wasn’t allowed to speak negatively about the royal family with the staff or anyone else I spoke to, especially the press. In fact, I wasn’t allowed to speak at all to the press. I was never allowed to take personal, private photos of any of the royal family on my own personal devices, nor allowed to post anything regarding them on social media. Essentially, to the world, I did not exist within the walls of the palace.

“This is heavy stuff,” Pippa said, reading the contract carefully and yawning. She was a paralegal after all, with the aim of becoming a lawyer herself. “Tight, too. They’re good.”

I took the packet from her and signed the bottom. Even if I did want to contest anything, and I didn’t, I’d have no way to win. So as the final paper was signed, Pippa and I both yawned in unison and said our goodbyes to each other before moving off to our respective rooms.

---

The next morning, William greeted me again and we walked into the office-looking area of the palace again. Against the walls were larger offices, like his. In the middle were long desks with computers lined along them. The office was small but in all, there were maybe two-dozen people in the center of the room, each in rows of six.

“Excuse me,” William said, speaking up. “Everyone, this is Miss Carolina Pearson. She is His Royal Highness Prince Alfred’s new photographer.” I waved politely. “This is her second day, so she may need some help getting used to things. Please be gracious and kind. I expect you all to be very welcoming.”

“Hi,” I said sheepishly, and a few said hello back. Everyone returned to their work again.

William walked me to a desk in the second row, closest to the hallway we walked in from the front desk. He showed me to the computer on the end that happened to be right by his office.

“This one will be yours. It’s updated with the newest Adobe Photoshop and other programs you may find useful. They’re all relatively straightforward but should you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. Oh, just before you sit down…” He motioned me into his office again and handed me a large, black bag. It was rectangular and I immediately knew what it was.

I unbuckled the front clasps, unzipped the top, and gasped when I looked inside. It was a new Canon EOS 1DX, along with three different lenses and cleaning supplies, as well as a foldable tripod stand. I took out the camera gingerly in my hands, afraid of breaking it one way or another.

“It’s… phenomenal,” I gasped, flipping it this way and that to look at all its features. It was so new, there was still a plastic film covering the screen on the back.

“Inside you’ll find three spare batteries and the charging station. I know you handed in the rules and signed them, but I should remind you that this camera and its equipment are never to leave this palace unless you’re–”

“On official business,” I finished for him, still staring at the camera. I popped open the memory card slot and saw there was already one in there. I found five more inside a small pocket in the bag.

“If you wish,” William said, “you can test it out. I have granted you sole access to the White Drawing Room to get some practice shots in before coming back here and editing. I know Prince Harry’s photographer and Prince Alfred’s previous photographer preferred to do that.”

I nodded feverishly. “Yes, please. That would be great, thank you.”

We walked through the invisible door again into the White Drawing Room. The walls dripped with gold ornamentation that still took my breath away. The ceiling never seemed to stop rising. Just before William turned, he said, “Don’t touch anything. I’ll be back in an hour.” Then he turned and went back through the invisible door, closing it behind him.

Setting the camera bag on one of the sofas, I began rifling through it, looking at each of the lenses and different light attachments. I put in one of the batteries, attached a lens, and turned on the beautiful thing. I glanced around the room, deciding what I should photograph first. My eyes settled on the painting of Queen Alexandra above the fireplace that William had pointed out during my tour yesterday.

I took shots from multiple angles – from the side, down below, far away, etc. Something about the queen was ethereal; the way her shawl fell around her shoulders looked almost imaginary and translucent; her dress was as white as an angel’s, with a striking blue sash cutting across her bodice; diamonds dripped from her neck and in her hands, she held a string of pearls. In all, she was–

“Beautiful, right?” came a voice beside me.

I was so intent on the picture through the lens I hadn’t heard the door open. I gasped and saw a man with brown, tousled hair and round glasses. He was gorgeous. And Scottish, by his accent.

“She is, yeah,” I replied, stepping back a pace from the painting.

He turned his head to look at it, showing off his chiseled jawline. It was so sharp, it could cut a diamond. “That was the first picture I took, too.”

“You’re a photographer?”

His caramel eyes landed on mine and I could feel myself blush. “Jude,” he said, extending a hand. “I photograph Harry.”

“You’re so young,” I blurted out, shaking his hand.

Jude laughed but looked confused. “You are, too.”

“No, I mean…” I fumbled. “When I was getting interviewed, William – Mr. Mastfield – made it seem like they only took, like, older applicants.”

Jude shook his head. “I’m twenty-nine. I’ll take it as a compliment.” He grinned, exposing his white teeth where I saw his canine on his left side was indented slightly inward. “I’ve been Prince Harry’s photographer for five years now.”

“Wow,” I replied, not knowing what else to say. Words escaped me.

“William sent me up here to, I don’t know, show you the ropes, I guess? Just see how you’re getting on with the camera.”

God, his Scottish accent only magnified his beauty.

“I’m good, I think. I had a Canon EOS 6D from 2013. Thankfully this one’s also a Canon so they’re similar.”

“Can I see?” Jude asked, holding out his hand again. I handed him the camera and he said, “You should really put the neck strap on. You’re making me nervous.”

You’re making me nervous, too, I thought. My palms were sweating as he flipped through the photos. I hated other people looking at my work before I even had time to look at them.

“You’re good,” he said smiling. He handed back the camera. “Though, soon you’ll have to photograph, you know, living things.”

I laughed, probably louder than I should have. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. I know William probably wants me to keep a close eye on you – he’s always wary of new-hires – but I always hate it when someone’s watching me work. I get too nervous.”

“Like they’re always critiquing!” I nodded and laughed. “I promise I won’t break or steal anything. They have to check our bags when we leave anyway. Where else am I going to hide a golden candlestick holder?”

Jude raised his eyebrows and shrugged with an insinuating smile. “I don’t want to presume. You know how to get back?”

I nodded and we shook hands again before he disappeared into the wall. I took a few more shots of the ceiling and close-ups of the ornamentations of gilding on the walls before packing the camera carefully back into the bag.

It was then I realized I was actually alone in Buckingham Palace – well, as alone as you could be with four cameras pointing at you in each corner of the room. I took an extra few minutes walking around the room, carefully inspecting each little item. Even the legs on the stands beside the sofa were ornately designed with leaves and vines, complete with tiny little cherubs at the feet. I kept my word to William, who was probably watching, and didn’t touch anything even though I was severely tempted.

I walked back to the office through the little maze of hidden hallways. In all, I was probably gone for 45 minutes, but it felt like 45 seconds. I went to my desk (how weird is it that I have my own desk??) and flipped on the shiny, new computer. While I waited for it to boot up, I took the memory disk out of the camera and took Jude’s advice and attached the neck strap. He was right – couldn’t be too careful with this £3,000 camera, not even including the other equipment.

I spotted Jude at the opposite end of the long table I was at and gave him a polite smile when our gazes met. I was definitely going to give Pip every detail about him. I could already see her wedding toast to us – “It was love at first sight in front of a painting of a queen, inside the lavish Buckingham Palace…”

I had to look away before the smile became awkward and I turned my focus back to the monitor where I used the login details provided by William. I changed the password once I got on and immediately when to work on the photos I took.

It went like this for the rest of the week – William “renting” a room for me to test out the camera and its qualities before coming back and editing the photos. At the end of each day, he took a look at the photos and nodded, telling me I did good work. He also took about an hour each day drilling me on royal protocols, since I’d be following and talking to the prince every day. By the end of Friday, William gave me Prince Alfred’s schedule for the following week, and he highlighted everything I was expected to attend. Beginning on Monday, where there was a fashion show for some French designer whose name I couldn’t even begin to try and pronounce. I had never heard of them, but I also just recently learned that there was a difference between Louboutin and Louis Vuitton.

“It’s right here in London, but as it is a Monday morning, you should plan to arrive at Kensington Palace early,” said William.

I would be meeting Prince Alfred at Kensington Palace before going to the event, and my heart was thumping at the thought.

During the weekend, which Pippa and I usually reserved for going out to dinners and maybe a pub or two, I stayed inside and worked further on my photography.

“You’re so boring now,” she said on Saturday afternoon.

“If I mess this up, I’ll never be able to get another job again.”

“That’s not true! I’d definitely hire you as my wedding photographer.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, first you need a boyfriend and then a fiancé. I would need a job a little sooner than that.”

Sunday night I went to bed at 8 so I was able to wake up by 5 again. I needed to be in Kensington by 9, which normally would take 45 minutes anyways, not even including Monday morning traffic. Plus I needed to stop at Buckingham to grab my camera. Thankfully, since I lived in Islington, Buckingham was on the way to Kensington. Well, at least in the same direction.

“Morning,” Jude greeted me as I walked into the office.

“Oh, good morning,” I replied, walking to my desk. Jude’s eyes followed me to my desk. “Are you going to this fashion show, too?”

Jude nodded. “Harry is attending as well. So are King Henry and Victoria. It’ll be a royal affair,” he said, adding emphasis on the last two words.

We both walked over to the locked cabinet where our cameras were held each night. I pulled out a key William had given me on my second day and unlocked the doors. The cabinet was actually closer to a walk-in closet. It held all sorts of odds-and-ends like brooms and cleaning supplies, as well as our camera equipment. We each signed out our cameras and each of the lenses we brought along on the sign out sheet inside the door before locking the room again.

“Want to share a ride to Kensington? I’ll pay,” Jude offered as he was putting on his jacket.

I tried to contain my smile and keep my voice calm. “Yeah, sure.”

He ordered up an Uber, which we both took in silence to the Kensington Palace guard gates in the back. We got out of the Uber and flashed our ID badges to the guards who opened a smaller portion of the black gate to let us in.

I’d been to Kensington Palace before – I felt like every Londoner or tourist had been to the palace. But the royal apartments in the back section of the palace weren’t open to the public. Jude and I walked the long pebble drive to where a string of black, sleek cars were parked. The walls of the palace weren’t anything spectacular – they were made of the same red masonry as the rest of the palace walls, but I could only assume the insides were a bit grander than the rooms open to the public. Both princes had their own separate royal apartments until Prince Alfred becomes king and has to move into Buckingham. Perhaps then Harry will inherit Alfred’s apartment.

“And now we wait,” Jude said, pulling his camera bag closer to take out his own Canon.

“Do we just… take pictures of anything?”

Jude nodded and shrugged while attaching a lens. “Pretty much. I just think of myself as paparazzi, but classier. And silent.” Part of the bullet points on the huge rules packet was to not speak to the prince unless spoken to. “This,” Jude said, flashing his staff ID, “gives us free reign, basically, to take whatever pictures we can get.”

I took out my camera as well, and I began taking shots of the palace and the cars, as well as the guards brandishing machine guns at the gates. I took close up shots of the pebbles that lined the drive, small budding flowers in the grass, and the naked branches of the trees. Anything to pass the time.

“Carolina!” I heard Jude call from a few feet away. I glanced up at him and saw him waving me over. A crowd had started to gather of other staff members so I quickly walked over. “They’re coming. Okay so William is going to introduce you and you’re going to ride with Prince Alfred to the show. I’ll be with Prince Harry in another car. You’re not to speak to him, as you know, but you’re free to take pictures as you please. No flash. Got it?”

My heart was racing. “Got it.” My palms were sweating furiously and I could feel my dress dampening under my coat. I put on deodorant this morning, right?

I glanced toward the door where they were supposed to come out and saw William making his way towards Jude and I. He waved us over, saying, “Come, come.”

We followed quickly and I hated that I was wearing heels on this cobble drive. My shoes kept sinking into the little stones, making walking even harder but William had told me I needed to dress up for this since it was a formal event. Pippa had loaned me a shift grey dress, which I paired with my old pair of nude heels. My hair was pulled into a low bun that was quickly coming loose and I stabbed fake pearl earrings into my ears that had probably closed up long ago.

Even though I had my camera’s strap looped around my neck, I still gripped to the treasure tightly afraid of anything happening to it. When the two princes stepped out, both Jude and I immediately went to snapping away at them. This was the first time I had ever met Prince Alfred, and my heart was exploding with anxiety. If I didn’t make a good impression, I was as good as gone.

Alfred and Harry shared similar hair tones and their eyes were the same shade of lime green. Alfred’s face was longer, though, and his chin was stubbled with facial hair. Alfred’s hair was also cropped shorter than Harry’s, but tonight it was gelled back, slick. Though they were both tall, Alfred was a hair taller and his legs seemed to go on for weeks compared to Harry’s. The both of them wore black suit jackets and black trousers, but Harry’s top two buttons were undone whereas Alfred wore a simple black bowtie. I snapped pictures of the both of them shaking different peoples’ hands before William tapped my shoulder.

Prince Alfred was in front of us now, and we both bowed. I still felt ridiculous.

“Your Royal Highness, may I introduce Miss Carolina Pearson? She is your new photographer,” said William.

Alfred flashed a perfect smile and extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Carolina.”

I couldn’t form words, but I managed to look somewhat professional by shaking his hand firmly.

Before I knew it, we were both stuffed into the back of one of the black cars, and we were off. I was completely alone with Prince Alfred. Holy shit.

Notes