My Prince

I was forced to put in headphones when everyone started arriving back to the office after the fashion show. All of my coworkers were looking and whispering about me. I could feel it. I even caught Pierce’s name a few times. So I put on my headphones and played the soundtrack to Hamilton.

My shoulder was shaken violently, forcing me to take off my headphones. I looked up and saw the beautiful Jude looking down at me. “What the fuck, Carolina?”

“What?” I asked, but I knew what he was talking about.

“Are you going to tell me just what the bloody hell happened back there?” His Scottish accent became thick as he talked quickly, and he flipped the “r” in “there.”

I placed my headphones on the desk and sighed, glancing around me at everyone in the room. Of course, about half of them were looking at me. “Come on,” I said, walking to the closet where we kept our cameras overnight. I unlocked the door, stepped inside with Jude, and closed it behind us after turning on the light. “I can’t think straight with everyone staring at me back there.”

“Well?” he asked.

I told him everything that happened and his face quickly changed to that of pure horror and disgust and quickly added, “I’m fine, I promise, but I will definitely need a strong drink tonight.”

“Christ,” he sighed. “I’m sorry I left you. I saw a friend and wanted to talk to them about something. You’re fine though? Are you sure?”

I nodded. “It was terrifying in the moment, sure, but Harry – Prince Harry – assured me everything was going to be okay. He said he’d talk to King Henry and sort everything out.”

Jude raised an eyebrow. “Harry, eh?”

I tried to stop the blushing. “Oh stop. I’m just glad he came in when he did…” I shuddered. “Was the Prince of Wales upset?”

“Nah, not at all. He’ll be glad to hear you’re alright. You said you wanted a strong drink tonight – why don’t we go to the pub nearby after work tonight? I owe you a drink or two.”

I chuckled. “I think that’s what got me in trouble in the first place.”

“I won’t leave your side, I promise.”

I looked down at my watch. It was half past three already. “Fine. Only two drinks, though.”

I went back to my desk, popped in my earphones, and continued to blast The Schuyler Sisters while I worked on the photos from the day. In particular, I stopped at the photo of Prince Alfred looking out the window while we were in the car. There was only a hint of a smile on his lips, but whatever he saw or thought of made his aristocratic features glow. I did as I promise – I turned the photo into a black and white image in photoshop. I didn’t particularly like Adobe Photoshop and using it on images because I felt it make them feel too fake. I really only ever used them to make minor edits, like balancing light. It was while I played with this image that I felt a tap on my shoulder. I glanced up at saw William looking down at me. He pointed and nodded to his office, motioning me to meet him inside.

The office became eerily quiet when I took off the earphones. I made sure not to make eye contact with anyone while I followed William into his office. I felt like a dog that was about to get whipped.

I took a seat in front of his desk and hear him shut the door behind me. I knew this was a serious conversation because he sat across from me on the other side of his desk rather than beside me.

“Miss Pearson, you know why I called you in here, right?” he asked, folding his arms over the desk.

“I do.” My palms were sweating. Harry said he’d speak to William and the king and that I wouldn’t be fired. I anxiously wondered if he had managed to do so yet, or if he was too late now.

“Then you know what I’m about to say.”

I swallowed and looked everywhere but at William. Only a week into a real, professional job, and I was about to get fired. Great. “I think so.”

“I am so, so, so sorry this happened to you,” he said and I quickly looked up at him, shocked. His face wasn’t angry. Instead, he looked remorseful. “I should have known you weren’t ready for such a large job and I take full responsibility. I didn’t properly disclose the proper etiquette for formal events such as this, and for that I am sorry. To be fair, though, you did put this job in jeopardy with your consumption of alcohol. I know your mother had a substance abuse issue but–”

“I’m sorry, what?” I said, jumping to attention at the mention of my mother.

“Well, it was in your background report we ran. We run it on all interviewees. But I believe not everyone is their parents so I offered the job to you based on your merits. You’re a phenomenal photographer, Carolina.” My eyes were wide. I had no idea they knew about my mother or her…activities. “I know these things can sometimes run in families, but you must promise me here and now that it will never happen again.”

I blinked rapidly. “I am not my mother.”

“You put yourself and this job in danger, Miss Pearson. Not to mention the backlash the family will now get because of Prince Harry.”

I scoffed. “I’m sorry, excuse me? I put myself in danger? I had a few drinks, yes, but I was fully aware of what was happening. I was nearly assaulted, and you’re worried about the bad press the family will get?”

William raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t look upset. “I’m just stating facts. As far as the press or anyone else knows, you hadn’t been drinking at all. That, however, is in our favor. We all know Pierce and his proclivities. I am taking your side. I know you weren’t in the wrong. I am meeting with His Majesty in an hour to discuss, but I thought I would ask you first: Do you want to press charges?”

I sat back in the chair. “No.” I didn’t want this to follow me forever. Let the press have their story for the day. By the end of tomorrow, all those newspapers would be in the trash or swept up by cleaners. The world will go on.

William nodded once. “Very well. You may go back to work, but I think the King and I will be agreed on this – we can’t have you at a formal event until this all dies down some.”

I swallowed heavily. “What?” Was this some sort of suspension?

He held his hand up. “It’s only for your safety. If this does come out in the press, which I’m sure it will, we will need to discuss how big it becomes. We will stay quiet, of course, including you, on the matter and hopefully it will blow over quickly.”

“And if not?”

“The Prince of Wales will continue his engagements as normal, but Jude will take over for you until it is deemed safe. In that time we will teach you proper protocol in case anything like this happens again. I will also set up a private photo shoot with Prince Alfred for you so you still have something to work on. I will get the dates to you in time but until then, please lay low.”

I sighed. “Fine.”




“Congrats on the big win,” I said, raising my pint glass up to Jude.

“What big win?”

We clinked glasses nonetheless and I took a sip before saying, “William didn’t tell you? You’re taking over my assignments ‘until it’s deemed safe’.” I rolled my eyes.

Jude chuckled. “Don’t sound too annoyed. William can sniff it, even from here.” He waved around The Grenadier, the pub near work, that we were now sat in.

“I don’t know how to read the man. One minute he’s tough and terrifying, the next he’s almost like a father figure saying he’s on my side, but then he goes back to ‘oh it’s your fault this happened,’ then back to ‘I’m on your side.’” I shook my head and drank again. “I get so confused by him.”

“He’s a complex man, Carolina.”

I scoffed. “Bloody right.”

Halfway through my second drink, I began to feel the effects of the beer. My cheeks were flushed and I had to yell over the other people speaking in the pub. It was now half-past six, and the pub was filling up with everyone coming in after work. Jude was talking about his sister, Katy, and how she was studying art history at St. Andrew’s in Edinburgh.

“I audited a few art history classes while I was at uni,” I offered. “I loved it. It was so interesting.”

“Why photography then?”

I shrugged, cupping my glass in both hands. “Art’s my passion, it’s true. But I like real things, you know? You can’t fake a photo.”

“Well…” Jude laughed.

I chuckled, too. “Okay, fair enough. But I don’t.”

“Not even on photos of yourself?”

I scrunched up my face. “I don’t take pictures of myself. For instance, today, I got this phenomenal shot of Alfred, right? He’s looking out the window of the car, he’s got this sort of smirk on, and the light of the day was just lighting up his face perfectly. When I got into the office to look at what I’d done, I knew instinctively that the photo should be in black and white, but then the color balance would be off and it wouldn’t look as authentic. All I did was play with the lighting and – boom. Art.”

There was a glint in Jude’s eyes that I believed was for me, and I blushed.

“You’ll have to show me tomorrow,” he said with a smile.

“Um, yeah, sure. No problem. So um… Jude, I have a weird question.”

“Dinnae ken if I’ll know the answer, but I’ll do my best.”

I took a long sip of my beer, preparing. “Do you… I mean… Are you single?”

God, the second the words left my lips I regretted them. How stupid did I sound? Don’t answer that, I know the answer.

“Uh,” Jude mumbled, looking down and smiling. He cocked his head. “Quite the question.”

I covered my face with my hands and shook my head furiously. “God, okay, I’m sorry. Forget I asked. Oh, Jesus.”

Take me far, far away.

“Carolina, I’m sorry if I gave you the impression–”

“Nope, nope,” I stopped him, taking my hands away. “Stop.” I swallowed the remaining beer and began to put on my coat. I repeated, “Forget I asked. I’m so sorry.”

“Wait, Carolina–”

“It’s fine!” I said, my voice too high. “It’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I needed to get out before I embarrassed myself further in front of someone as beautiful as Jude. Shit, and I had to see him tomorrow at work. And every day after that.

“Technically, yes, I am single but there’s… someone else.”

I was tossing my purse over my shoulder, pretending I didn’t hear what he said. “See you tomorrow, Jude.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.




The tube ride home felt twice as long and twice as full as usual. I stood smashed against the corner, where someone smelled faintly of tuna and gas. I wanted to retch.

I returned back to the flat some 45 minutes later, feeling like I could sleep for days. This day never seemed to end, and the sun had only just recently set. The moment I walked in the door, though, Pippa was on top of me.

“Where have you been? I’ve been calling you!” She jumped from the couch.

“Sorry I was in the tube. No service.”

“You’re all over the news!”

Fuck. I almost forgot.

“Yeah, um…”

“What happened? They’re saying something about Harry assaulting some fashion twat and that you’re shagging him now?”

“Whoa, hold on. What?”

Pippa took out her phone, did some scrolling, before holding it out to me where I saw it was one of those Snapchat discovery stories. The opening image was Harry in front of me while I looked wildly about. I did not photograph well, I realized. Ironic.

I swiped up where I read the tabloid. It said I had followed Pierce backstage and a “witness” told them that Pierce and I were “engaged in an intimate embrace” before Prince Harry stormed in, in a jealous rage, and punched Pierce before forcefully dragging me away.

“Oh god…” I walked around the couch, plopped down with my jacket and purse still around me, and handed Pip her phone back. “I’m fired. I’m totally fired.”

“What? They fired you?”

I shook my head before letting it fall into my hands. I had taken my hair out of its bun a long time ago, and ran my fingers through it, scratching my scalp. “No, no they haven’t fired me. Yet. It wasn’t out when I left work. And no one bothered me at the pub so it must have only just come out.”

“What happened?” she asked.

I lifted my head and spilled to her everything about Pierce and Harry punching him, along with what followed in Buckingham. “Harry said he’d talk to William and his father about not firing me but…” I leaned back on the couch. “I’m screwed, Pip.”

“Surely they can’t fire you for this, right? They know what happened? That’d be wrongful termination.”

I slapped myself on the forehead. “Shit, forget I said any of that. I’m pretty sure this is covered by the NDA I signed. You can’t tell anyone this, yeah? Promise?” Pip didn’t say anything for a few seconds, only sighed. Eventually, she agreed, but her eyes were on me. “Oh, and don’t let me forget to tell you how I completely embarrassed myself in front of Jude.”

“Ooh!” Pip squealed, inching closer. “Hot photographer?” She hadn’t called him by any other name besides hot photographer since I first mentioned him.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes him.” I told her about the pub and my completely awkward exit.
She punched me in the arm. “Car! You nutter.”

“I’m stupid. So completely stupid. Of course, someone like him has a special girl. Why would I think he would be interested in someone like me?” I stood up and took off my purse and jacket.

“Oh stop.”




The following day at work, people still stared at me and whispered behind my back about the previous day. I brought my soundproof headphones specifically for this purpose. I blasted music through them and continued to edit the photos I had taken. I never once looked over at Jude, nor waved at him when he walked into the office shortly after me. I was burrowing myself into a shame hole and would climb out when I felt ready. I was fixing the shading on an image of Prince Alfred looking at the model walking down the runway when William tapped my shoulder.

I took off the headphones. “Yeah?”

“Come with me.”

I followed William through the many passageways of the palace, wondering just where the hell we were going. This wasn’t for an assignment, otherwise, he would have told me to grab my camera. A sinking feeling developed at the bottom of my stomach as I realized that this might be the part where I get fired. I followed behind him so I couldn’t get a read on his emotions. Then again, I never really could anyway. We go up a flight of stairs, down another long hallway, and end up outside the Blue Drawing Room. The doors are shut.

William turns to me and says, “Wait here.” He opens the double doors, turns, bows, and says, “Your Majesty, Miss Carolina Pearson.”

I take that as my cue and walk in. I almost trip when I see King Henry, Victoria, and Prince Harry all waiting for me. King Henry is sitting beside Victoria, and Harry is standing beside them, resting against the arm of the couch. I remember a moment too late to bow. William exits the room, shutting the doors behind him. The room is dark, caused by the deep wallpaper and dreary weather outside. Crystal chandeliers drip from the ceiling, trying to illuminate the dim room, but are merely reflecting the deep red of the plush carpet around the room. I wondered why this was called the Blue Drawing Room when the dominating color was red.

Christ, the king is going to fire me?

“Miss Pearson, I’m sure you’re well aware why we have summoned you,” King Henry begins, standing. I walk closer to him. “We have a matter to discuss and I would appreciate it if you were frank with me.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“My son Harry has given me the details regarding the debacle yesterday but I would like to hear how things happened from your perspective.”

My eyes briefly glance over at the prince, where I see he’s wearing a black shirt with embroidered flowers across his chest, with matching black trousers. A few too many of the top buttons on the shirt are undone, and I see a peak of what appears to be a tattoo on his pectoral, but I have to glance away before I begin to blush.

“Yes, of course,” I reply. I repeat everything from Pierce showing me backstage, to practically forcing himself onto me, and then to Harry arriving. “His Royal Highness tried to de-escalate the situation but Mr. Volier was adamant which left Prince Harry no choice. The only way to get Mr. Volier off of me was to use force.”

“And then the pair of you left the backstage area?” King Henry asked.

I nodded. “I think that’s everything.” I left out the part about the drinking, figuring that wouldn’t help matters.

King Henry glanced back at his son. Prince Harry didn’t even look at him. I remembered him telling me yesterday he had gotten into an argument the week prior with his parents, which I guess was still unresolved.

“Very well. I appreciate your honesty.”

“Is that all?” I was visibly sweating, being in the presence of the king and his family. I felt so out of place. I had probably greeted them wrong or was standing wrong or just doing something wrong.

“I don’t want you worrying about your position within the palace, Miss Pearson,” King Henry said as if reading my worries on my face. “Mr. Mastfield has suggested that Mr. Lawson take over your duties for a while until things settle in the press, which I must agree with. Do I have your cooperation with that?”

I nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Until then, let me extend my deepest condolences on this whole situation. You may return to work.”

I remembered from the paperwork that I must bow again when leaving, and not show the monarch my back until I reached the door. So I bowed and awkwardly fumbled back until I saw the door out of the corner of my eye. I turned the handle and exited, closing the door behind me.

William was gone now, but I remembered the way back to the office. I was halfway down the hallway to the stairs when I heard someone calling my name. I spun around to see Prince Harry jogging up to me, his hand waving in the air.

“Carolina, wait,” he called. Just as my heart rate was beginning to settle, it sped up again. My cheeks flushed deeply. I tried taking deep breaths to calm myself. I was beginning to bow again when he reached me and said, “Don’t.”

I straightened myself. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“What are you doing right now?”

I glanced at the stairs. “Um, about to head back to work, actually–”

“Take the day off.”

I unintentionally scoffed. “What?”

“Come with me.”

And then he smiled.

The dimples and mischievous glimmer in his green eyes melted me. I found myself saying yes before I could stop, and then he touched my arm and spun me around to walk down the stairs. We winded our way through the palace until we reached the main entrance – the one I had walked through the day before. Harry was telling one of the guards to pull around his car and I admired the large portraits hanging on the walls and the ornate gold designs of the banisters. As the doors opened for the guard to run out, I heard the pelting of rain outside.

“I’m going to take you somewhere I bet you’ve never been before,” Prince Harry leaned over to me and said. My skin prickled, knowing he was standing so close to me.

“Oh?” I said, turning to him with a hint of a smile. “Where’s that?”

“It’s a surprise.”

I raised an eyebrow, and the smile I tried to hide was now spreading across my face. “Are you kidnapping me?” Prince Harry smiled again but didn’t answer. “Why?”

His smile began to face, and he pursed his lips. “Willy mentioned how the people downstairs were treating you and I figured you could use the distraction. Am I wrong?”

To be fair, I didn’t know. I knew they were talking, but I didn’t know what they were saying. But I didn’t want to tell him that, for fear that he would change his mind.

“My hero,” I said dramatically instead.

“Your Highness,” a guard called, signaling the arrival of his car.

“Come on,” Prince Harry called, holding his hand out to me, that stupid smile on his face again.
The car that waited was an olive green classic Ferrari convertible (I only knew it was a Ferrari based on the stallion raised on its hind legs on the grill) with a bulbous front end and almost nonexistent rear end. The hood was up, guarding the interior against the rain. The guards handed each of us an umbrella that we didn’t use because of the overhead roof covering the area where the car was waiting.

Prince Harry opened the passenger door and I dropped in, buckling myself while he crossed to the other side to the driver’s seat. I watched him jog to the door, not believing this was really happening.

Once the prince was seated and buckled, he put the tiny vehicle into gear and looked over at me, a sly grin on his face.

In a cheeky voice, he asked, “Are you ready for an adventure?”

Notes