HRH Princess Alexandra of Wales

Special Chapter: A letter and a picture.

I wanted to write a bit about Kate journey. TW: depression and anxiety attack. 

Catherine, in her quest for self-improvement and healing, found herself trapped in the clutches of her own turmoil. The simple act of moving forward seemed like an insurmountable task at times. The spectre of her daughter growing up without her haunted her mind relentlessly. It was a thought that reverberated through her every waking moment, an anguish that she could not escape. Apart from the delicate balance of her relationship with William, Catherine was plagued by incessant musings about the uncertain fate of her daughter. She often found herself wandering the labyrinthine corridors of her imagination, envisaging a future where William might marry one of his fleeting one-night stands, leaving her daughter stranded in an unfamiliar world. These "what ifs" were the darkest corners of her mind, a harrowing landscape where the tender reunion with her beloved little girl remained forever elusive.

Her graduation day marked a glimmer of hope on the horizon. The Royal Family graced the occasion with their presence, celebrating not only her academic achievement but also recognizing the gradual mending of a family torn asunder. In the midst of the applause and well-wishes, Catherine found renewed strength, one step closer to the day she could hold her daughter close again. This burgeoning hope was the driving force that kept her moving forward, even on the most trying days.

Yet, amidst these flickers of optimism, Catherine and William shared moments of genuine connection. They would occasionally morph into a semblance of a normal couple, venturing out to the cinema or experimenting with culinary creations in their modest kitchen. During university breaks, they even sought solace in the picturesque tranquillity of Balmoral. However, in the silent spaces between conversations, they avoided the elephant in the room — the unspoken truth of 2003, the birth of their firstborn, a child who seemed to exist in a parallel universe across the sea in Spain, living with another family as though she were not their own.

Then, in the second week of September 2006, a letter arrived, hand-delivered by one of William's vigilant security team members. The name on the envelope read "Mrs. Griffin," the woman responsible for caring for Alexandra, their daughter. Catherine stared at that envelope for hours on end, grappling with the decision to confront its contents. She harboured an intense resentment towards Mrs. Griffin, irrational though it may have been. It was easier to vilify her as the malevolent force responsible for snatching her daughter away from her loving embrace.

A week crept by, and Catherine's curiosity clawed at her sanity, demanding attention. She needed to know what lay within that envelope, yet an overwhelming sense of unreadiness held her back from facing the truth it held. It was a precarious balance between hope and fear, a delicate dance on the precipice of her heart's deepest desires and her mind's most profound anxieties.

The envelope contained both a letter and a picture. She read first the letter which was hand written in a delicate manner.

Dear Catherine Middleton and William Windsor,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. I am writing to you today with a heart filled with both admiration and a profound sense of responsibility. While I'm not entirely certain if this correspondence is fitting or proper, I can only assume that the Firm, in their wisdom, has granted their blessings for this connection to be established.

I must first express my sincerest apologies for the unfortunate circumstances that have led to my involvement in your daughter's life. I can only imagine the tumultuous emotions you both must have experienced when making the difficult decision to entrust your firstborn child to another's care. However, please know that this decision was not made lightly, but rather with the utmost consideration for the greater good. In a world where every move of a royal family is scrutinized, the path we have chosen, while unconventional, is in service of protecting the future Queen of England from unnecessary public scrutiny and challenges.

Since the day your daughter became a part of our family, we have cared for her as if she were our own. I am delighted to report that she is flourishing in our care, both physically and mentally. Her growth is evident in every aspect of her life. She is being lovingly raised in accordance with the Anglican Church's teachings, instilling in her the values and principles that will serve her well on her future journey.

Your daughter possesses an extraordinary spirit and intellect that astounds us daily. At her tender age, she already communicates fluently in both English and Spanish, a testament to her remarkable aptitude for languages. It is not an exaggeration to say that she is on the path to becoming a truly remarkable princess and, in due course, an extraordinary Queen.

Recently, she embarked on her educational journey at the prestigious Santa Maria de los Rosales school, a secular and private institution with a rich history of nurturing young minds, including those of the Kings of Spain themselves. Your daughter's adaptation to her new environment has been seamless, and her teachers frequently commend her for her intelligence and affectionate demeanour. She has quickly forged strong bonds with her peers, and her interactions with classmates are characterised by kindness and inclusivity.

Enclosed with this letter, you will find a photograph, one for each of you, capturing your daughter in her school uniform, proudly sporting a pink backpack that has become her cherished possession. It is a symbol of her enthusiasm for learning and her boundless curiosity about the world.

I want to reassure you that while your daughter is not aware of her true parentage at this time, we are committed to revealing the truth to her at the right moment in her life. Our aim is to ensure that when the day comes for her to meet you, it will be a smooth and emotionally supportive experience.

In closing, please know that we hold your daughter dear in our hearts and are dedicated to providing her with the love, care, and guidance she needs to thrive. We look forward to the day when our paths intersect, and we can unite in the best interest of the future Queen.

With warm regards and heartfelt best wishes,

Mrs. Griffin

Catherine's emotions overwhelmed her as she reached the end of the letter, her heart aching in a way that seemed unbearable. She couldn't help but surrender to the torrent of tears that streamed down her face, each drop carrying the weight of years of separation from her beloved daughter. It had been a gut-wrenching nine months when she had last held her child, and now, reading about her daughter's growth and happiness from afar, the pain of separation was as raw as ever.

As she gazed at the photograph of her little girl, a flood of bittersweet memories washed over Catherine. It was only the second time she had seen her daughter since giving birth, and the resemblance between the child and her late mother in law, Diana, was uncanny. Those fiery red locks, a trait inherited from Harry, seemed to carry a piece of Diana's spirit, a tangible link to the grandmother she would never know.

With every passing moment, Catherine felt anxiety's icy grip tighten around her chest, making it increasingly difficult to breathe. Her thoughts spiralled into a whirlwind of doubt and despair. She clutched her chest instinctively, fingers trembling in search of stability. She whispered reassuring words to herself, attempting to navigate the turbulent waters of her mind. "You're okay. This will pass. You've overcome this before." She sought refuge in grounding techniques, running her fingers along the textured fabric of her sweater, counting each thread meticulously. Slowly but surely, her racing heart began to find its rhythm, and the tempest within her subsided, leaving behind the soothing embrace of tranquillity.

Desperate to find some solace, she rushed to her bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Her trembling hand retrieved a pill, her last resort for a night's sleep. She hoped that in the sanctuary of her dreams, she might reunite with her little girl, perhaps even finding the strength to change their circumstances. As the medication took hold, she closed her eyes, longing for the chance to be with her daughter once more, to be the mother she yearned to be but had been denied in the waking world. Maybe, just maybe, in her dreams, she could find the courage she so desperately needed.