My Prince

The majority of the ride was spent in silence as I flipped through some of the photos I’d taken of the palace. It felt too awkward to photograph him in this silent car.
Okay, so I wasn’t completely alone with Alfred – there were two security men inside the car as well. Probably wouldn’t be a good idea to have the next heir to the British throne inside a car alone with a stranger. I’m assuming they did some sort of background check on me though, right?
“Caroline, right?” Prince Alfred said fifteen minutes into the ride. His voice startled me, even though it was deep and soft. The voice of a future king; the Prince of Wales.
“Carolina, your royal highness,” I corrected.
“I suspect we’re going to see a lot of each other, you and I,” he said. His voice hinted at a smile, but his lips never curved.
“Yes, your royal highness.”
Prince Alfred rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to say it every time.”
I felt my cheeks flare a gross shade of red. “I’m sorry…” I stopped myself in time before blurting out yet another your royal highness.
“My father is the one who loves pomp and circumstance, all the titles and such. If it’s just you and I, you can call me Alfred.” He leaned forward, an allusion of a smile beginning to surface. “If anyone else is around, then call me your royal highness or prince or something.”
I smiled and nodded curtly. “Yes… Alfred.”
“Now take some pictures of me. Make sure they look damn good.”
I held my camera up to my eye and snapped a few pictures of him smiling, lips closed. I continued to take more candid ones as well, where he looked down at his feet, fixed his bowtie, or adjusted his suit jacket. My favorite, I think, was one where he was looking out the window, giving a half-curved smile to whatever was outside. His gelled hair was perfectly in place, his jawline shadow cut perfectly across his neck, and his stubble creating a small shadow on his cheeks. I took a mental note that the photo would look great in black and white.
“Can I see?” he asked.
I gave him the camera and he flipped through all my photos, nodding slightly at each one.
“You’re good,” he said, handing it back.
“Thank you.”
At the fashion show, I was corralled with Jude and all the other official photographers at the event. Prince Alfred went off somewhere else to greet people.
“How was it?” Jude asked as he jogged up to me.
I still couldn’t get over his absolute beauty. “It was… weird.”
“Weird?”
“I mean… weird, like, it was eerie quiet. It was too awkward to take photos at first. And that was the first time I’d met him and I didn’t want to start it all off by taking hundreds of pictures without saying anything to him but I couldn’t speak to him unless he first spoke to me–”
“Whoa, whoa, okay,” Jude said, placing a hand on my arm. My skin went hot where he touched. “They may be royalty, but they’re just like you or me. They just happen to have incredibly, filthy rich parents. Like the Paris Hilton.”
The event organizers put all us photographers into one spot, told us where we were and were not allowed to be to photograph models and celebrities, and then let us free. I followed Jude, not knowing what else to do since I’d never done any photography like this before.
I swapped out the current lens for one that was better for close-up shots and began photographing Prince Alfred once he sat in his seat. The models began walking out and I noticed they were all women and women’s fashion. I captured Prince Alfred’s expressions for each new model that walked out, loving how his green eyes were sparkling in the lighting within the building. Prince Harry beside him kept his expressions stoic so I couldn’t tell whether he enjoyed the show or even cared. On the opposite side of Prince Alfred sat King Henry and beside him, Victoria.
I kept seeing Prince Alfred glance into the audience, seemingly right at me. I felt hot in my dress whenever he did. Not because I thought he was beautiful – I mean, he was – but because I hated when people looked at me while I photographed. I believed they were silently judging my skills or me.
But after the fifth time of Alfred looking over at me, I noticed he was instead looking next to me, at Jude. Odd, I thought, but I kept shooting regardless. I had to stop a few times to admire the fashion myself – all of these were formal dresses that flowed with each step of the model. The designs were breathtaking, though I knew I would never be able to afford anything like them, even with this handsome salary.
For all the fuss that surrounded this fashion show, it lasted only twenty minutes and seemed to be over just as quickly as it had begun.
“Right, shall we get a drink?” Jude asked after the designer came out, took a bow while accepting applause, and disappeared behind the stage.
“Shouldn’t we keep taking pictures?” I asked, seeing Alfred and his family stand from their seats and begin mingling.
“You’ll have your hundreds of chances to photograph him talking to boring people in your job. Believe me, each one will be like the last and the press secretary will use none of them. Come.”
He looped his hand through my arm and guided me back to where all the photographers had gathered at the beginning of the show. Against the wall, there was a bar that was already beginning to fill with people. Jude shoved his way through, ordered two champagnes, and handed me a flute.
“I-I don’t have–” I began, about to tell him I didn’t have any cash on me.
“It’s an open bar,” he told me.
I took in all the people, each dressed fancier than the next. Everyone looked as though this were an Oscar’s after-party rather than a fashion show at noon. There were long gowns and diamond bracelets and fancy, blown-out hairstyles. I really was under-dressed. I only mentally thanked myself that I shaved.
“Hey, I’ll be right back. You alright?” Jude said. I noticed he had an extra glass of champagne with him.
I nodded even though I felt like a fish out of water. Jude walked into the crowd and I took an eager sip of my champagne, letting the fizzy bubbles dance on my tongue. I finished the glass shortly after and went to the bar again. When I was finally able to order, I ordered two more glasses. The drinks were free, after all, and I needed to loosen up.
After I finished my second glass, I heard a voice beside me say, “You a photographer?”
He was a tall man, wearing an impeccable navy blue suit. He was young, too; maybe only a couple years older than me. I wondered what he did for a living or who he was related to to be here.
“How did you know?” I asked, feeling my face getting warmer from the alcohol. “Does the camera and bag give it away?”
He smiled, showing perfect teeth, and let out a short, deep laugh. “You’re right, that was a stupid question. I just saw you standing here and thought you looked too beautiful to be alone.”
I tried to stop myself from smiling but couldn’t. He wasn’t unattractive, but he sure wasn’t Jude.
“Oh, well, thanks,” I said, unsure what to say. God, why was I so awkward? This is why you’re single, Carolina!
“I’m Pierce,” he said, extending a hand.
“Like Brosnan?”
He smiled again. “Sure.”
I shook his hand. “Carolina.”
“Like the state?”
I laughed. “Sure,” I said, mimicking the earlier statement.
“My uncle is Volier, the designer,” Pierce said, glancing out at the room.
“Fuck off,” I blurted out and immediately regretted it. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean that. I mean… wow, that’s awesome.” I quickly took a big gulp of my third champagne.
Pierce must have found it endearing because he just laughed. “Listen, want to go somewhere to talk? It’s just kind of noisy out here.”
I looked at the crowd, hoping to see Jude galloping back to me but he was still somewhere lost in the crowd. “Um, sure.”
Pierce extended his hand again and after I took it, he led me through the crowds, behind the curtain next to the stage. Before I knew it, hangers and dresses surrounded us. I thought the models would be back here, but they must have been mingling out in the crowd or somewhere else. The room was completely empty.
“Wow,” I breathed, taking in all the dresses on the hangers. Moments ago, they were being worn down a runway. I took one that was lavender-colored in my hands and felt the silk skirts of it. It was exquisite.
“Do you take all the girls back here?” I asked slyly, turning back around. I was shocked to see Pierce standing right there, nearly touching me.
“Only some,” he said quickly, looking down at me.
He was too close for comfort, so I sidestepped him and pretended to look at a different dress behind him, one closer to the door. I could hear all the conversations going on outside, but it was a dull roar. The curtains were so thick I couldn’t see beyond them and the conversations were muted, almost as if it were a door instead of a thick sheet of fabric.
“It must be really cool to, um, have Volier as your uncle,” I fumbled for words, trying to think of a way to let him down easy and leave this awkward encounter. I continued to drink the glass of champagne, unsure of what to do with my hands. The dresses looked too beautiful and expensive to touch.
I saw Pierce shrug from the corner of my eye. He was stepping closer again. “I enjoy the perks.”
“Like?”
Pierce took a deep breath in. “The parties. The drinks. The girls.” He reached out and brushed a loose section of hair out of my face. I shivered away from his touch, feeling very much like I wanted to be anywhere but there with him. His cologne was too strong and it was giving me a headache.
“I should be getting back,” I muttered, turning to him. “I have work to do.” I finished my glass. My head was beginning to feel fuzzy and I began regretting drinking so much. I tried stepping back but fumbled. Pierce caught my hand and held it tightly. So tightly, I winced.
“So soon? Don’t you think it would be cool to get a one-on-one interview with the nephew of Volier?” Pierce pouted. He didn’t let go of my hand.
“I’m not a journalist,” I replied.
“Come on, just a few more minutes. I don’t bite.” He grabbed the back of my head and began leaning down.
I swatted his hand away and moved to the side, away from his advance.
“Look, I don’t know what you think is going to happen but–”
“You’d be lucky to have a guy like me,” Pierce said, suddenly deepening his voice and becoming defensive. I realized how much taller and bigger he was than me, and my heart began to race.
“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, Pierce.”
I began stepping away, back towards the entrance of the curtain again but he grabbed my wrist tightly. So tight, I gasped and let out a whimper. “You don’t leave until I let you leave.” Something in his eyes terrified me, and I realized I wasn’t the first girl he’s done this to. He pulled me toward him, grabbed either side of my face, and smashed his lips down onto mine.
My head was locked in his hands, so I was unable to move away. I tried pushing him off me with my hands, but what I felt was sheer muscle. He was easily overpowering me.
“Pierce, stop!” I tried yelling into his lips, shoving against him as hard as I could.
“Hey!” I heard someone call. Pierce suddenly let go of me and I saw a flash of brunet curls step between Pierce and me. “She said stop.”
I recognized the husky voice immediately. Prince Harry glanced at me. “You alright?”
I wiped my mouth to get rid of Pierce’s spit all over it but nodded. From my struggle against him, half my hair had fallen out of its low bun.
“She came onto me, mate,” Pierce said, smiling and pointing at me. He stepped closer to me and tried grabbing my wrist that was still sore, probably to lead me away again.
I yanked my hand back and suddenly, I heard a fist colliding with a face. Prince Harry punched Pierce and sent Pierce reeling back, grabbing his nose.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Prince Harry said, lightly touching my shoulder and guiding me out of the backroom. “There’s a car waiting outside. I’ll be there in a moment. Will you be alright?”
I nodded again, getting sort of annoyed that he had asked me that already.
People outside were all looking at us, and photographers were pointing their own cameras at me, snapping pictures. Everyone was talking, asking what had happened. Somehow they heard everything that happened inside. Dozens of people were shouting at us, asking what happened. I was still dizzy from the champagne and trying to process what events just happened. The lights of the cameras were blinding and I thought I might faint.
“Carolina!” Jude shouted, racing up to me. Prince Harry had disappeared now. “What the hell happened? I left you for, like, ten minutes!”
“Prince… his royal…” I shook my head, trying to remember the proper title. “Harry said there’s a car. Get me out of here, Jude.”
Jude held my arm tightly, but a lot lighter than Pierce had. I used him as support, guiding me through the heavy crowd. Sure enough, there was a black car, same as the ride over, waiting just outside the entrance. Just as I was about to get into the car, I saw Prince Harry running out to us.
“Jude, can you go back inside and take over for her?” he said, walking over. Behind him, two security men followed.
Jude bowed slightly. “Of course, your highness.”
I looked desperately at Jude, silently praying that he wouldn’t leave me alone with Prince Harry. Jude seemed to be the only person of sound mind around this place. But Jude was already walking away.
“Miss Pearson,” Prince Harry said, motioning for me to get in the car.
I took one last glance at Jude, hoping he’d look behind him but he never did. I finally knelt into the car. Once I was seated, I took my camera off from around my neck, took off the lens, and placed it gingerly into the bag all while Harry and his guards climbed into the car.
“Here,” Prince Harry said, handing me a bottle of water. I didn’t even realize he was holding one.
I took the cold bottle, chugged some of it, and held it against the back of my neck, feeling hotter than ever. Especially on a cold, March day. I was still too dizzy to care about being proper in front of Prince Harry.
“What happened back there?” Prince Harry asked.
I noticed his knuckle then – the one that had punched Pierce. It was red but didn’t look like it would bruise. He, a prince, had punched some dude for me.
I shook my head, trying to get the facts straight. “I don’t know. We were just talking and I got some weird vibes from him. I tried to leave but then… well, you walked in.”
Harry sighed. “Pierce Volier has developed quite the reputation. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
I almost laughed. “I didn’t deal with it. You did.” I looked him in the eyes then, and I felt something… click. I suddenly felt more comfortable than I had all day. Something flipped in me then when I looked into his green, sparkling eyes. “Thank you,” I said quickly, looking away. Was I hallucinating? Was he looking at me the same way?
After a long pause, Prince Harry cleared his throat and said, “There’s going to be some backlash to this, I want you to be aware. Pierce knows how to spin a story in his favor; he’s done it for years. I don’t want you to worry about anything though. I’ll talk to my father and William. You won’t get fired. Hot water, maybe, but that’s it.”
I drank more of the water. “Thanks,” I said again, both for the water and what he just said.
“Do you want me to take you home?” he asked.
I tried not to look in his eyes, afraid I might fall into them and never be able to escape. I was slowly feeling better, so I told him, no, to take me back to Kensington where I would call a taxi or Uber to take me back to Buckingham. I decided I should still edit the photos I did have. It was only a little after noon, after all.
To my surprise, he told the driver to take us to Buckingham instead of Kensington. I thanked him again and he told me, “Stop saying thank you.”
Instead of taking the side entrance like I normally would for work, the driver pulled us through the front gates, through the front entrance, to the open courtyard beyond. The card drove us right to the main front doors, only really used for the royal family or official visitors.
“Are you hungry?” Harry asked as we stepped inside. The grand staircase greeted us and, although I had seen it a few times since starting, it still caught my breath. “Miss Pearson?”
I blinked at him. “Oh, um, yeah but I’ve got something in the fridge in the office.” It was a lie – really all I had was a protein bar in my purse but I already felt like I was taking up too much of his time.
“Come on,” he said, waving me to follow him. We walked up the grand staircase, through different heavily decorated hallways, and eventually, we ended up in the industrial-sized kitchen. “What would you like?”
I shook my head, unsure what even to say. The moment we walked in the room, all of the kitchen staff stopped what they were doing – chopping, flipping, stirring – and bowed. Prince Harry waved them off and they returned to their work.
“How about some protein? You’re looking a little white. And something warm, yeah?” he offered.
I sighed and nodded. “Sure, yeah.”
“Harriet?” Prince Harry called, and a thin woman walked over to us.
“Yes, your highness?”
“Two chicken noodle soups, please.”
“Right away, your highness.”
“We’ll be in the small dining room.”
Harriet nodded and walked off, giving orders to different people on the staff. Prince Harry whisked me away again, to the adjoining dining room. He called it the small dining room, but it could still fit in my entire flat, times three.
“Here,” he said, taking out a chair.
“I feel like I should be doing this for you,” I said, blushing while taking the seat. I slipped off the heavy bag on my shoulder and set it on the floor.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He took the seat beside me. “Are you sure you’re alright? He didn’t hurt you?”
I fiddled with the water bottle in my hand, which was now half empty. I eyed the spot on my wrist where Pierce had grabbed me just before he kissed me. It was red raw and hurt to move, so I knew it would bruise. I hoped it wouldn’t be too noticeable.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“I wish I could say you’ll never see him again but his uncle’s designs are everywhere and he leeches off his uncle’s success. Every party Volier attends, Pierce likes to tag along. Half of those parties are ones we attend, as well.”
“I’m fine,” I repeated, “I promise. I was just… caught off-guard.”
Harry sighed and turned in his seat, so he was fully facing me. “I’m sorry this happened, Miss Pearson. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”
This was a completely different person from who greeted me on my first day. Whereas that Prince Harry was cold and rude, this one seemed to genuinely care. It made me feel a little bolder.
“I’m surprised you remember my name,” I said.
Harry leaned back in his chair and gave me a half smile, exposing one of his dimples. God, his dimples.
“Carolina Pearson. How could I forget?”
I shrugged. “I just figured, you know…” I trailed off, but his eyes were on me and I felt like I had to finish the sentence. “We just didn’t meet for long.”
“Ah, right. That. Look, I’m sorry if I made a bad impression on you. I had just gotten out of an argument with my father. I hope you’ll forgive me. But I am good with names.”
“Argument about what?”
Just then the door to the kitchen opened and Harriet walked out with a platter that had two bowls. She placed the bowls in front of us and bowed.
“Anything else your highness?” Harriet asked.
Harry glanced at me and I shook my head. “No, thank you. This smells amazing.”
Harriet smiled before bowing again and backing out.
I felt self-conscious sipping soup in front of literal royalty, so I only took small sips, careful not to spill anything down my chin.
“Ah, there’s some color to your cheeks,” he said after a while.
I wasn’t full, but I felt like I needed to stop. “I really should get back to work, your highness.” I stood from the seat, which probably broke a rule about standing before royalty stands or something, and Prince Harry stood as well. “Thank you for this. I am feeling better.” I bowed quickly and bent down to grab my camera bag.
“Carolina,” he said, using my name for the first time. My heart skipped a beat.
I stood up, throwing the bag on my shoulder. “Yes, your highness?”
His eyes searched my face for a good second or two, looking for something. I felt hot under his scrutiny. He seemed to have changed his mind from whatever he was going to say and instead said, “I am truly sorry for what happened back at the show. Please let me or William know if you need anything, yeah?”
I dipped my head in a small bow. “Yes, your highness.”
Then, ever so quickly, he took my hand in his and kissed the top of my knuckles so lightly. It happened so swiftly, I wondered if it even happened. I left the small dining room and wandered for a couple rooms, completely lost until I recognized the White Drawing Room in the next room over. I made it to the office while mostly everyone was still away and sat at my desk. I looked at my hand, still able to feel Prince Harry’s soft hand in mine, and the feel of his lips connecting with my skin. Then, on the same arm, I glanced at my wrist that was still a harsh shade of red. I pulled my sleeves down further to hide it and began to work on the photos of the day.

Notes