My Prince

“Oh my god,” I gasped again. “I’m sorry. I’m… sorry.” I exited just as quickly as I entered. I shut the door, frozen for a second. Trying to process.

Kissing. They were definitely kissing. And not the cheek peck-peck “Oh it’s lovely to see you again!” kiss. Definitely the steamy, in-love kind of kiss – hands wrapped around each other, faces pressed as closely as they could possibly be.

“Technically, yes, I am single but there’s… someone else.” Jude had said that, just last week. Obviously, I thought he was talking about a girl, maybe one he went to uni with or knew since primary school. But no – he was talking about the crowned prince of the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth.

He’s gay, or at least bi. And I didn’t even see it. How stupid was I to hit on him?

Another thought strikes me dumb. Alfred. Alfred, Prince of Wales. If word ever got out about this, there’s no way he’d be allowed to be king. He would have to be head of the English Church, which clearly states these kinds of things are not allowed to happen. Of course, I’d never say anything to anyone. But what if it wasn’t me that walked in there?

I was halfway down the stairs when I heard feet chasing after me.

“Carolina!” It was Jude. Jude, and his sweet Scottish accent. “Carolina, stop, please!”

I reached the bottom of the curved stairs but paused at the door. I should tell him that I would never tell anyone what I saw, obviously, and that I’d allow them their privacy for a little longer; that I’d just wait… somewhere. I didn’t want to go outside and risk Harry seeing me. That was the last thing I needed.

I turned to Jude, who was looking at me wildly.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I should have knocked. I didn’t mean to interrupt–”

“Car, wait, stop. It’s not what you think, I promise.”

I let out a laugh that sounded more like a choke. “Jude, if you’re gay or whatever, that’s fine. I don’t care – really.”

“I’m not.”

I replayed the split second in the bedroom over and over in my head, trying to comprehend how I could have interpreted that wrong. They were definitely kissing, and a damn romantic kiss at that.

“You’re not…” I said slowly.

“I’m not gay.”

“Whatever, bi, it’s totally fine.”

“No, I…” Jude ran a hand through his hair twice. His face was flushed deeply red, I was surprised his glasses didn’t fog from the heat emanating from his cheeks. “I’m not gay, or bi, I promise. It’s… complicated.”

I kept glancing at the stairs, thinking I’d see Prince Alfred running down any minute to try and explain things himself. He never did.

I shook my head. “Look, whatever. Your life is your life. I’ll let you two, um, figure things out. I can come back later.”

Jude pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead. “Car… I just – I promise it’s not what you think. Please believe me. It’s not… It’s not my place to say it.”

“Say what?” Everything he’s saying is only confusing me more.

Jude turned around to look at the stairs. The prince still wasn’t there.

“I can’t say,” he said eventually, turning back to me. He grabbed my arms tightly. “You have to promise you won’t say anything to anyone, yeah?”

“Yes, yes,” I said nodding. “Yes, of course. I promise.”

“Can you just… wait here for a moment? I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” I said, still in a daze.

Jude ran back upstairs and I tried not to imagine what was happening up there. I still couldn’t figure out anything. Nothing made sense. They were kissing. They definitely were. How Jude could deny that didn’t make any sense. I knew what I saw.

My camera bag was weighing heavily on my shoulder so I walked into the sitting area in the next room over. The couches were so white and cushioned I wondered if anyone has ever sat on them before. I took off my camera bag from my shoulder and sat on the giant sofa, relaxing into the cushions. I could fall asleep right here, I thought. The day started off so wonderfully and now was… just strange, really. I tried everything imaginable not to think about Harry or what – who – I saw in his apartment. Strange things were happening at Kensington Palace today.
I looked at the soft plush carpet. The glass coffee table. The marble fireplace. Time ticked by slowly, and the more time it took for Jude to come back down, the more time my brain had to think about Harry.

Harry and his stupid hair and his stupid smile with his stupid dimples and his stupid charm. I was nothing but a game. A toy. Something to pass the time. Maybe that’s why the last photographer left, too. Maybe he does this to all of them. Maybe I’m just one on the giant conveyor belt, the same as all the others. I hate him. I hate him.

He made me think about my future. I’ve never really done that before. Beyond uni graduation, I lived week to week; job to job. I went to the Tower and imagined a future where I got to wear the Love Tiara upon our engagement. I knew, I knew, it was stupid to imagine such things. There’s no way a girl like me with my history would ever, ever, get to marry someone like him. Now, suddenly, I’m thankful I saw what I did. If, somehow, magically, Harry ever did propose, who knows if he’d ever be faithful? I could never trust him. I was also thankful that I was Prince Alfred’s photographer and not Harry’s. Otherwise, I’d have to quit. What kind of job does one even get after this one? Nothing could compare, surely.

I was staring so hard at a crystal vase filled with vibrant purple orchids and thinking about all of this that I didn’t hear Jude’s footsteps on the stairs or enter the room.

“Carolina?”

I spun around quickly. “Huh?”

“I said you could go up.”

His face was still red. I didn’t know what to even begin to say to tell him that I don’t care who he dates or likes without sounding like a complete knob. So I just thanked him, grabbed my bag, and walked up the stairs again. I heard the front door open and then close as I reached the top.

I walked down the long hallway, reaching the familiar door again. It felt like déjà vu, although this time my face was less red and puffy. My hands were sweating as I reached for the door handle. What do I do when I walk in? Do I pretend like I didn’t see anything? Should I act normal? I decided that would probably be best. I just had to get through this photoshoot and that would it.

I opened the door and saw Prince Alfred standing there, staring right at me. I didn’t know how long he must have been waiting, staring at the door. He was clutching his tie tightly in his hands. Similar to Jude, his face was red and he had a mildly panicked look on his face when I walked in.

I continued to try and act normal. I curtsied like I normally would. I placed my bag on his sofa and began digging out my camera and lenses.

“Do you have a preferred location, Your Highness?” I asked.

“What?”

I glanced up. “A preferred location. For this shoot.”

“Oh. Uh. No, no I don’t.”

“Would the gardens be okay?” I glanced out the window behind him, seeing a few dark clouds moving in but we could easily squeeze in a few photos before it darkens or begins to rain.

“Yes.” He said the word slowly.

“Great. Do you need help with that, Your Highness?”

He looked confused until I pointed to the crumpled tie in his hands. He glances down at it like he forgot he was holding it.

“Oh. No,” he said, chucking it onto the chair. “I think no tie is good.”

I nodded, clicking a lens on my camera. “Sounds like a good idea – gives a more informal view into your life.”

His face nearly drained of color. “My life?”

“I won’t be asking anything, I promise. I won’t even be the one posting the caption. I have no say over all of that. I’m just the one taking the pictures.”

His face remained white.

“Carolina – what did Jude tell you?”

I guess there was no way around this.

“Nothing,” I said quickly. If he even gets one inkling that I would ever tell anyone, I would be out of my job within a second. I couldn’t risk it. So I may have answered too quickly.

“What did he tell you?” he asked again, his voice rising.

“Nothing, Your Highness, I promise! All he said was that it wasn’t for him to say anything. You don’t have to worry about me saying anything. I promise. I need this job, Your Highness. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it.”

“He didn’t say anything?”

I shook my head. “He didn’t, and I won’t either. It doesn’t matter to me that you’re gay. I just do your photos.”

“Gay?” He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not gay, Carolina.”

I honestly thought I was losing my mind now. I thought maybe Jude was in denial about his feelings towards a man, but now both of them were denying being gay.

“What?”

“It’s… a bit more complicated than that.”

Now it was my turn to pinch the bridge of my nose. Nothing was adding up.

“You don’t need to tell me anything, Your Highness–”

“I’ve told you to call me Alfred, Carolina.”

“With all due respect–”

Prince Alfred let out a loud, singular laugh. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “I think respect went out the window ten minutes ago.” I shut my mouth, unsure of what to even say next. “I know you won’t tell anyone,” he continued, “and I admire you for that. Other people in this place would sell it to the highest bidder.”

“Other people aren’t me, Alfred.” His name still felt foreign to say. It didn’t feel right to be so informal with him. But I was following his lead. “I need this job.”

He nodded. “You said that.”

“Do you not trust me?” My mouth went dry, scared of his answer.

It took him only a few seconds to respond, but it felt like ages.

“It’s weird, but I do trust you, Carolina.”

In some sort of instinct, I raised my camera and snapped a picture of him – arms crossed, leaning against the wall, morning light streaming in the window to his left, and his face with a small half-smile. But the moment I took it, his smile fell away.

“Don’t use that one,” he said sternly.

“Photos don’t record conversations,” I said softly, feeling far too brave to speak so candidly to him. “But if you want me to delete it, I can. But you should see it first.”

Without waiting for an answer, I walked over to him and held the camera out, showing him the shot. He took two minutes, staring at it.

Finally, he said, “No one’s ever shot me like that before. Usually, they’re always so–”

“Rigid?”

Alfred laughed. “Yeah, rigid, sure. I was going to say ‘fake.’ But rigid works.”

I took the camera back from him. “That’s why William offered me the job, you know. So photos of the future king wouldn’t be so… fake.”

Alfred gave another half-smile. “You sure are a breath of fresh air, Miss Carolina.”

“And, look, Alfred – you don’t have to tell me what all that back there was, okay? Your private life is private. Like I said, I’m just here to take photos.”

Alfred was biting his lip as I spoke. Something I knew he only did when he was contemplating hard about something. Whenever there were videos of him at a conference or listening closely to a patient at a hospital, he always did it.

“Thank you,” he said, offering me a slow smile. “I appreciate it.”

“So – photoshoot? Garden?”

Alfred grinned, obviously glad to put all the awkwardness behind us. “Lead the way.”

We managed to shoot outside for a good fifteen minutes before the clouds got too dark behind him. I didn’t want the photos to give the wrong idea of our future king. It was on our way back into Alfred’s apartments that Harry must have seen us from his own windows. He came running out of his place, screaming my name. Both Alfred and I jumped in shock.

“Carolina, please, can we talk?”

Alfred was looking at me, rightfully confused.

“I’m busy,” I shot back, not looking in Harry’s direction. I continued my walk into Alfred’s.
“When are you done?” Harry asked, walking closer. He was only a few feet away now. I could hear his steps on the pebbles.

I was close enough to the front door that I could have easily ignored him but Alfred had stopped in front, blocking my entrance.

“What is it that you need?” Alfred asked. “I’m sure you could call Jude if you wanted your own photoshoot.” I was surprised how normal and cool Alfred said while saying Jude’s name.

“No, it’s not… Look, Carolina, will you please talk to me?”

I shut my eyes tightly, wishing beyond anything that Harry would just go away. If Alfred found out about us, then I’d be out of a job. So many things could get me fired today.

“It seems urgent,” Alfred muttered to me. “You can talk to him if you want.”

I glanced up at Alfred, then at Harry. Then, in my coolest voice, I said, “I’m sorry, Your Royal Highness. I happen to be busy at the moment. But if you’d like to set up a shoot, you should talk to Jude. I’m sure he’d be more than willing.”

And then, completely breaking any and all protocol, I pushed past Alfred and went inside. I heard Alfred follow right behind me.

“Do you have a library?” I asked, my voice sounding too frantic. “I think that would be a good location.”

“Are we going to talk about what that was?”

I shrugged, glancing around the rooms pretending to decide where to photograph next. “I’m sure he just wanted a few photographs done but I’m with you. It would be rude to abandon this.”

“Trust goes both ways.”

I sighed and turned to the prince. It was clear he didn’t believe anything I was saying. I’m a terrible liar.

So, for the millionth time, I said, “Please, Alfred… I need this. I can’t lose this job.”

Alfred took a small step towards me. “Carolina, I promise you, I will not let you lose your job. You have my word. Just tell me what’s going on.”

I knew I shouldn’t tell him, but my mind was begging to let someone in on what happened just a few days ago. According to my NDA, I wasn’t allowed to discuss anything with anyone outside of the palace family and staff.

“It was just one night,” I said. “It really shouldn’t mean that much.” I don’t know whether I was saying that to him or myself. Either way, again, I wasn’t convincing.

“Whoa, whoa, back up. One night? When? What happened?”

So I told him all about Wilton’s and Harry taking me back to his. I told the truth – that nothing beyond kissing happened. That, like an idiot, this morning I went to his just to talk and found him with another girl.

“And she was beautiful, Alfred. I mean, stunning, really. I could never compare. It was stupid to expect him not to have someone, you know? It was just a couple kisses over ice cream. That’s it.” I remembered William’s words, about people trying to sneak into the royal family all the time. “It’ll never happen again, I promise.”

“Wait, was this girl blonde with skin that looked way too fake-tanned? Kinda has lips that look too big for her face?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t really get a good look,” I lied, knowing that the image of her was imprinted onto my brain forever. “I guess so?”

“Oh, Jesus.” Alfred laughed but covered his mouth. I was scared for a second he was going to say it was all a misunderstanding and she was some sort of cousin or friend or something. But then–“He’s still seeing her?”

Great, so not only was I right in my suspicions but now I was the “other girl,” not the other way around.

“Who is she?”

“Olivia. She’s the daughter of the Earl of Kent. She and Harry have had a thing on and off for the better part of five years, but last I heard they were definitely done a few months ago.”

I tried not to focus too hard on the fact that he’s been seeing her for half a decade. Of course, I could never compete.

“I’ve never heard of them being together,” I said.

“Well, you wouldn’t have. The King never allowed it to be put out there.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Alfred looked down at me, looking deeply into my eyes. He looked so serious, I was worried about what he would say next.

“Because of me.”

“You? Why?”

“You should sit down.”

“I’m scared…”

Alfred’s lip curled into a smile for only a split second. “It’s not scary, I promise. It just… this has to do with what you saw earlier.”

“You and Jude?” Alfred’s eyes flicked down for a moment before coming back to me. I continued, “I don’t get it.”

“Just… sit.” He motioned to the sitting area again and I took the same seat on the sofa as earlier.

“What’s going on?”

He sat down on the chair beside me. He rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands together. “Look, the first thing you need to know is that my father has a complete monopoly over what the press sees about our family, okay?”

“O…kay…”

“What he says goes, and none of us are allowed to fight him on that. My brother obviously knew Olivia for most his life. Then they wanted to start dating a few years ago. Harry went to Dad and asked for his permission since the press would get wind of it pretty quickly. But Dad outright rejected him. So Harry began seeing her in secret. I’m the only one who knew, only so I could cover for him if he got home late or even the next morning.”

“Why did the king say no, though?”

Alfred paused. I could physically see him trying to string the words together in his mind before saying them.

“In short, because of me.”

I didn’t say anything. It was his story to tell now. I could tell I shouldn’t interrupt from here on out.

He continued, “Everything from now remains in this house and is never spoken about again, yeah?” I nodded. “Ever since I could remember, I always felt different. I thought something was wrong with me. I didn’t feel comfortable in my own skin. You’d think I would – after all, I’ve lived a life of extreme luxury. But… something was off. I thought I was gay. I knew I liked men, yes, but it felt… I don’t know… deeper than that? When I was fourteen and away at Eton one year, I kissed my first boy and felt elated. I’d finally done what I was so terrified of. Again, something just didn’t feel right with me, though. I thought, maybe, I was just feeling the guilt. After all, all my life, I’ve been told this was wrong and immoral. Not only that, but I knew one day I’d grow up to be king. Whatever I was feeling, I had to shove it away and pretend it wasn’t true because otherwise I’d never reign.

“But I could never shake the feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong with me. I began to hate who I was, what I looked like, what I dressed like. As you know, I was taken out of Eton at sixteen but what the press told wasn’t true. It wasn’t because I excelled greatly and graduated early. I had become suicidal and my parents had to take me home and watch over me every day to make sure I didn’t do anything to harm the future king.

“Then one day, while both were busy with some work or another, I wandered into my mother’s wardrobe and tried on her heels. Of course, they didn’t fit, but something inside me clicked. I walked to her vanity and put on her lipstick. I had always been fascinated as a child watching her do her makeup for formal dinners or events. After that, I would go as often as I could and sneak into her wardrobe. I tried on her dresses, mascara, all the like. By the time I was eighteen I was caught, taken to therapy, where I found out that what I was feeling was actually normal. You hear that? All my life, I was told that I was a blasphemy, that I would go to hell and suffer for all eternity for what I was feeling. And now someone was telling me it was normal. I’d never felt such a relief.

“Of course, no one outside our immediate family or top staff members was allowed to know. Whereas my family may have understood, they knew the public would never. At least, not for a future king who could provide no heir. So I just lived in the shadows. There have been a couple close calls with people who I thought were friends going to the press and trying to sell the story but Dad shut it down each time. So my parents came up with the idea of creating an ‘image’ for me – the image of the eternal playboy. Anything to keep rumors from sprouting. And so, because of this ‘image’ they created, they needed the focus solely on me. Any mention of Harry beginning a relationship, and my parents would be worried I would slip up again. With the constant pressure, I guess, they assume I won’t slip up. So Harry hasn’t been allowed to enter into a romantic relationship in the public eye because of… well, me.”

I didn’t know what to say.

I didn’t say anything for what seemed like eons.

“So. You’re not gay,” I said, stupidly.

Alfred chuckled. “No, not technically.”

“You’re just transgender?”

“Bingo.”

“Wow,” I breathed.

“Is that alright with you?”

“What?”

“Is that alright with you? That I’m transgender? I know it could make a lot of people uncomfortable and if you don’t want to work with me anymore, I would completely understand.” The sound of his voice was so soft, it almost made me want to cry.

“Oh my God, of course it’s okay, Alfred!” I nearly yelled. “I don’t mind at all. I’m blown away knowing you’d trust me with such an intimate secret. Don’t you ever, ever, worry about me, okay?”

I swear I saw his eyes begin to water.

“God, that means so much to me, Carolina. Thank you. And, if it’s worth anything, I’m sorry about what happened between you and my brother. He can be a right twat sometimes.”

I waved my hand, dismissing him. “So then – how did you and Jude…?”

“Ah,” he said and sighed. “Quite a boring story, I’m afraid. Harry and I were set to do a photoshoot together for some event or other coming up but Harry had to bail last minute. We got to talking and the next time I looked at my watch, I realized four hours had passed. Then… we just kept seeing each other. He knows and understands everything, but this is a first for both of us. I have never been with a man for more than just a kiss or two and he’d never been with a man, ever. Though, really, I don’t feel like a man, you know? He’s been so understanding through everything and I couldn’t be happier.”

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling as he spoke about his relationship with Jude. “How long have you two been together?”

“Officially? Almost a year now, I think. Yeah, it’ll be a year in May. Wow, time flies.”

I involuntarily checked the clock behind Alfred’s head as he spoke and saw it was already nearing noon. “Shit,” I muttered. “I have to be back at the office by half-past to get the photos done by tonight. I think we have enough from the garden anyways.”

Alfred stood. “No worries. You have my number in case you need to take any more for today. My schedule’s open.”

I extended a hand, feeling like a curtsy wasn’t right after all we’d just shared with each other. But Alfred didn’t even take it. Instead, he drew me in for a hug. He was a tall man, about half a head taller than Harry, so he had to crouch down to reach me.

“Oh, by the way,” I said after drawing back from the hug, “what should I refer to you as? She?”
Alfred waved a hand. “To play it safe, I tell people to still stick with him/he and Alfred. Just so you don’t have to worry about slipping up in public.”

I felt my phone begin to vibrate in my back pocket. Worried it was William, I began to pack up my things.

“Again, thank you so much for trusting me with all that, Alfred,” I said, heading for the front door. He was following me out.

“Like I said, trust goes both ways, Carolina.”

I walked out the door and pulled out my phone from my pocket. But the number wasn’t William’s. I almost gasped at the caller ID. I debated whether I should pick up or not. In the end, curiosity overtook me and I slid to unlock the screen.

“Mom?”

“Hey baby,” she said softly on the other line. She’s never called me ‘baby’ in my life.

“Hi…”

“Listen, Car, I know there’s been a lot between us for a long time–”

“Mom, now’s not the best time.”

“This will be quick.”

I glance down at my watch. “Okay.” I head down Alfred’s stairs, praying that Harry doesn’t come rushing out again.

“Car, I’m sick.”

“What?” I thought I’d heard her wrong. “Sick? Well, have you gone to the GP?”

“I don’t mean down with the flu.”

“Mom, I don’t have the time–”

“I’m dying, sweetheart.”

Notes