Princess in Training (Prince Harry #3)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Meredith had hoped to relax when in the company of closer family, but her mind went back to Jack Campbell. Of course everything was about him-- why wouldn't it be? This moment was meant for Philip, and it all came back to Jack Campbell. She wished he would just disappear.

Watching Harry carefully, Meredith knew she had to tell Harry but not until later-- hopefully much later, when it didn't matter anymore. Harry needed time to heal, and Meredith needed time to just get into the wedding. Whenever this over, perhaps Jack Campbell would be gone. Meredith could only hope.

Whether the older woman was a follower of Jack Campbell or a journalist, Meredith didn't know which was better. Maybe it was easy to discuss which was worse. So far Jack Campbell's name had been away from Harry's name, only touching Meredith's, but if people learned more about what happened that night, it would only draw attention to Jack Campbell, who needed to be forgot about. If she was a Jack Campbell follower, the question was: where the hell was he getting these people?

Harry and William spoke privately in the corner, and once again, Meredith became an outsider. Camilla comforted Charles. Catherine took care of her children. Others were around for the Queen, who was stoic. Even in the immediate family, it felt like too much. In these moments, usually it was Philip who popped up beside her to strike up a conversation. Now she stood alone, sipping on her coffee that was tainted with booze.

One last for him, she thought and took another sip. This one last for him happened to her third, and most likely the trend was going to continue.

In the immediate family, it felt a lot more exposed, where Meredith had to constantly question if she was acting the correct way. While there wasn't a certain way to act in grief, there was a certain way to act when in the royal family. With Harry, it was what she liked. Here, there weren't as many options.

Stoic and strong as ever, while dressed in black for mourning, the Queen stood, and all eyes landed on her. Meredith did as well, taking her social cues. All took the Queen's social cues as she said nothing. Silence fell upon the room.

It was a time for remembrance for the Duke of Edinburgh, but the Queen liked to look forward into the future. Philip defined an era in the monarchy, an era that wasn't easily forgotten. It represented over sixty years. Monarchies fell left and right in those days, even before, but with the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh at the helm, the monarchy continued to stand tall.

The Queen watched her family--and Meredith-- with an intense gaze. Whatever ran through her mind she gave no inclination.

Because of this, it made Meredith squirm.

Really, it made everyone squirm. At least with Meredith, she had a reason to be unsure of what came next. With the rest of the family members who knew the Queen as more than just the Queen, they were supposed to know what came next. However, as they looked on, Meredith realized they didn't know anything.

Most royal deaths were held with the utmost respect and dignity. It wasn't best to make a scene for anyone who wasn't the monarch. Diana, Princess of Wales-- Harry's mum-- was a different matter. For the Duke of Edinburgh, he wasn't the monarch so it was a smaller funeral. Yet, it called for a change.

If anyone expected the Queen to say anything, they were wrong because she left without a word. Not even Charles or any of her children followed after her. It was a swift disperse of the family.

"Mere," Harry called, cocking his head to the back. It was time to go.

Without a word, Meredith followed him out. She didn't say anything, even on the way back to Kensington Palace, where she hoped to have some alone time with Harry. It didn't come as they didn't return to their flat but to William and Catherine's flat. Their young children didn't even realize what happened, as children did, and went back to playing.

"Tea." Harry went into the kitchen.

Meredith took her own cup, without alcohol this time, and sipped.

William and Harry spoke while Catherine gave input. When they spoke, Meredith only picked out some things. She knew some of the protocol just because it seemed obvious with the world around her, but what they said didn't click. It was a shock to her system to be this far out of the conversation without her realizing it.

Meredith imagined herself out at sea, just slowly floating away. And then she found herself under water, drowning, but she only stared up at the sunny water that gleamed down--

"Mere," Harry called harshly.

Her eyes came up. "Sorry. What?"

"Oh, you look tired, Mere," Catherine said. "Are you feel all right?"

"Yes, fine, thank you. What were we speaking about?" Meredith asked.

"The funeral," Harry reminded her, "everything that comes with it. Everything that comes after it." He almost sounded annoyed with her. "We also need to walk careful ground with how people are reacting. Some people call him hilarious and other people call him offensive."

At least Meredith knew that topic, but she had nothing to add, per usual with these moments.

William sighed. "Our grandfather will be remembered for what he was: hilarious or offensive. He made an impression on people. He was honest about things."

Sometimes too honest, Meredith said, which was just another reason people didn't like him. The monarchy wasn't to be tarnished, but he showed there were holes in the monarchy. "The funeral won't be too large, will it?"

"No," William said. "Nothing compared to the funeral when Granny dies." His voice was sad but determined. "It will be tricky, though, with the upcoming nuptials between Harry and you. They will not want to outshine, but it will recent."

"It will be sad not to have him there," Harry said.

"Yes," Meredith agreed. Philip had promised to sneak Meredith booze, which was exactly what she needed to get down the aisle. Even now, the thought of everyone watching her during the wedding made her queasy.

Before Meredith had the ability to add anything else, the conversation moved on. Sipping on her tea, she still hated it. It was watered-down and warmed up juice. Coffee would be nice, along with booze, yet she feared the booze had started to taint her breath. Her eyes fell to Harry, hoping he might look at her. He never did.