London, England
August 2017
In the spotlight so clear
"Are you okay?" asks Ken as he enters the Buck House sitting room that has been turned into a temporary make-up room for me.
"I'm good," I reply and gesture vaguely at Rhea, the nice woman working to make my hair look its best today. "Still getting glammed up, as you can see."
Ken smiles. "Indeed." He pulls up a chair to sit next to me at the vanity and checks his own appearance in the mirror.
"Should Rhea do you hair, too?" I tease.
He laughs. "No, I think the hair is okay as it is."
"I could though, Your Royal Highness," pipes up Rhea. "Maybe some powder as well, to blot out any shine?"
Ken grimaces, perhaps because he knows that while he can get away without Rhea's magic for the press call, he will need to concede to some sprucing up before the TV interview. There's nothing to make you look pale and ill like a TV camera and the accompanying lights. He, having done his share of interviews in his life, knows that fully well.
"Maybe later, Rhea," Ken tells her smoothly. She shrugs and smiles, as if to say 'suit yourself'.
While Rhea puts some final bobby pins in my hairdo, I observe myself in the mirror. She put my hair into a soft, loose knot at the back of my neck that manages to be elegant without being severe. The make-up is expertly done, too, enhancing my features without making me look painted or lacquered. It's heavier than what would I put on normally, but considering I will be stepping into the bright glare of dozens of cameras in mere minutes, I expect it's just right. Rhea's the expert, after all.
"Do you like it, Ma'am?" she asks as she raises her hand and steps back.
I meet her eyes in the mirror. "I love it. You did an amazing job!"
"You have wonderful hair and remarkable bone structure. I really didn't have to do much," Rhea replies generously.
"Still, you did a great job," I insist. "Don't you think so, Ken?"
Ken chuckles. "I always think you look beautiful, so I'm probably not the best judge of that."
I swat at him half-heartedly. "Oh, you terrible charmer!" But it's said in jest more than anything and he takes it as such, grinning widely as he takes my hand and folds it into his.
"I dare say my work here is done," Rhea declares from behind me as she smooths down a final curl.
"Yes, thank you." I stand up to shake her hand. "I must warn you though that you will probably hear from me again soon."
She laughs. "I hope so!"
Rhea was recommended to me by Ken's Aunt Kim, who's worked with her for royal engagements before. That way, I didn't only know in advance that she's capable at her job but also that she can keep mum about anything she might hear or see inside a royal residence. Of course, today, we won't let her out of the palace anyway before the big news are out, so there isn't any danger of her spilling anything, but her discretion is good to know for future reference.
As Rhea collects her pots and jars and utensils and stows everything away in two large orange bags, I pick up a glossy magazine that I'd been skimming earlier while she curled my hair. On the cover is a photo-shopped montage of Amy and me that does neither of us any favours. I didn't read the lead article, but the headline alone tells me what it's about.
Jealous Rilla Tries to Destroy Amy's Happiness
"I wonder what they'll write about when they can't paint me as the green-eyed monster anymore," I wonder idly and hold up the magazine to Ken.
"They'll make up some other drivel," he replies, looking down at the magazine with disgust, before taking it from me and tossing it into a corner.
"I guess they will," I agree, feeling resigned. "I doubt that they will ever just accept the fact that Amy and I truly get along."
Ken shakes his head. "No, that's too boring for them. Though I suppose from today, you will be off the hook for a while and Amy will draw most of their vitriol."
"Poor Amy." I sigh.
"That's how the cycle works," Ken reminds me, his voice matter-of-fact but not without feeling. "You were their punching bag for the past months and now they'll drag her down to write you up. That's how they always do it."
"But I could handle it," I point out. "Well, mostly, I guess. Amy… I don't know if Amy can. She hasn't looked so well recently anyway."
"Teddy said as much," Ken remarks. "I think he's worried about her."
I nod, pursing my lips. "I don't know for sure, but my guess is that the excitement of the wedding and the newness of being a princess have worn off and now that she's graduated, she doesn't even have college life to give her some normalcy. I think it's all hitting her a little hard right now and I imagine she misses her family and her friends. It can be lonely, moving continents."
Ken reaches out to let is fingers trace along my face. "And I didn't do the best job of supporting you, did I?"
Reaching up, I briefly clasp his hand with mine. "It's water under the bridge and anyway, we're not talking about me. It's Amy I'm worried about. I keep meaning to give her a call and invite her for tea or to do some shopping, but it's been such a whirlwind this past fortnight…"
"No-one can fault you," Ken assures. "You've already done so much to make Amy feel welcome."
"Still, I think I will invite her over soon," I resolve. "One good thing to come out of being unemployed is that I'll have a little more time on my hands now."
Friday was my final working day at the youth centre and the one good thing to come from it is that from now on, I won't have the double burden of working the day job and planning a royal wedding at the same time. That's about the only good thing though and while I know that as a princess-to-be I can hardly keep working a paid job, I still wept like a baby on my last day. The kids organised a farewell party and no matter how much I insisted that I'd be back to visit all the time, it still felt like the end of an important phase in my life and I mourned it accordingly. (When I called her in tears upon leaving, Mum said it was alright to grieve though and Mum is usually correct about these things.)
"You'll be back to see the kids regularly and I will come with you when I can," Ken assures me, knowing where my thoughts have taken me. "There's no way you can cut them from your life anymore and I promise you don't have to."
Gratefully, I reach for his hand and smile at him, glad that he understands. He interlaces our fingers and gives a light tug, inviting me to stand. I allow him to pull me up and twirl me around so I'm facing the door.
"Ready to face the hyenas?" Ken asks, meaning the assembled press.
"Like in Lion King?" I joke.
He grins. "Exactly like in Lion King."
As he says it, I suddenly remember a long-ago conversation about children being held aloft atop the Buckingham Palace balcony. (How far we've come since then!) From the twinkle in his eye, I know that he remembers it, too.
"Just to be clear," I warn, "you will not hold up any child we might have over the railing of a balcony!"
"Endangering a child of yours? Wouldn't dream of it!" he promises, laughing, and kisses my hand with a gallant flourish.
I roll my eyes at him, but it just makes him laugh even louder. Tugging at my hand, he pulls me along with him, out of the door and toward where the hyenas are gathered in the Buck House garden (park). His eagerness to see them would be puzzling, if it wasn't part of a broader excitement to tell the world about our engagement – an excitement that I share whole-heartedly.
A lot of planning went into today to make sure the announcement goes off without a hitch. Staff took care of most of the logistics and Owen and Ken teamed up to prepare me for the TV interview as best as they could, while Tatty and Katie provided help with my outfit. The photos about to be taken of Ken and me will be reproduced countless of times for many years to come, so it's imperative that the outfit is just right.
To that effect, I'm wearing a dark green summer dress with a smattering of flowers from a small, up-and-coming London label. I got it from a cute little boutique in Camden that Lucy and I discovered last year and today, I'm wearing it with matching high heels from a mid-level British high street store and the bow earrings from Queen Alexandra that Ken gave me for my birthday three years ago.
On my left wrist, I'm also wearing a bracelet that Joy gifted me many years ago, a little before she got married. I was not yet eleven years old at the time and I remember how worried I was that with my big sister being married and having a baby, our family would forever be changed. That's why Joy gave me the bracelet, to reassure me that whatever would happen, we'd always be us.
There's a little charm for each of us dangling from the bracelet, nine charms to represent the nine members of the Family Blythe. A guitar for Dad and a book for Mum. A sun for Joy to indicate joyfulness and a smiley face for Jem, our resident jokester. A bear for Walter and his love for Russia and a disc for Shirley, the computer freak. A hat for Di, the fashion expert, and a flower for Nan with her love of all things beautiful. Me, I'm represented by a heart, to show that my big sister will always, always love me.
Some month after she gave me the bracelet, I bought an additional charm and added it myself – a little rattle for baby Jake, bringing the total number of charms to ten.
Despite it being a little cumbersome, I wore that bracelet every day for several years, until gradually, it got replaced by other jewellery. During my teenage years, there were flashier and sparklier pieces and then, at some point, more elegant and sophisticated ones as I grew into adulthood. For today though, I knew it would have to be this bracelet with its charms to represent my family and the knowledge that, no matter what, we'd always remain.
The bracelet jiggles lightly when I move my arm and as Ken and I step through the door and into the glare of the cameras, the softly clinking sound of it is oddly reassuring.
The TV cameras were already rolling before we leave the palace and the moment we step outside, the photographers start wildly snapping away, too. Unusually, they're not shouting – probably because they're in the royals' home turf – but there's a lot of pushing and shoving to get the best spot. The actual engagement announcement was formally released by the palace an hour ago, so obviously they know why they're here and no-one wants to leave with sub-par shots.
"Ready?" asks Ken quietly and squeezes my hand tightly.
I take a deep breath.
"Yes." When I look up and smile at him, the clicking goes into overdrive.
Our hands still firmly intertwined, we walk down the few sets of steps leading from the ground-floor garden room of the palace down to the gravel path in front of it. Once there, Ken slips his hand from mine and instead places an arm around my waist, a reassuring and affectionate gesture. The cameras still click away wildly, so there's nothing to do for us but to stand and smile and allow them to capture us thousand-fold.
"Congratulations," someone calls out from the melee of press people. (There must be at least a hundred of them!)
"From all of us!" adds someone else.
"Thank you," replies Ken calmly. "Very kind."
"How are you feeling?" a third voice shouts.
I feel Ken looking down at me, silently questioning whether I feel up for taking the question, so I square my shoulders and do. "We're very happy. Completely over the moon."
"That's an understatement, obviously," adds Ken jokingly and winks when I briefly turn to look at him. The clicking goes up yet another notch.
"Can you describe the proposal?" a woman next to a TV camera wants to know. "Did he go down on one knee?"
Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I see Ken grinning wildly, but before he can go into any detail, Arlene chimes in from the side, "Detailed questions will be answered in the TV interview."
There's some grumbling from the reporters, but no-one dares protest too loudly.
"Can we get a better look at the ring?" a photographer in the front row requests instead.
"Of course," I answer and raise my left hand for them to see. For a moment, it hovers somewhat awkwardly in the air and I notice that it's shaking slightly, but then Ken reaches over and places his right hand below my left, steadying it. As my ring is put into full view, so is the bracelet around my wrist.
Click, click, click make the cameras.
"Is it an heirloom ring?" someone wants to know.
"It's the Cullinan IX, the smallest of the nine major stones cut from the Cullinan diamond," Ken explains as he lets go of my hand and I lower it again. "It's been in my family about a hundred years and it has never had a lovelier wearer than now."
Charmer!
"I promise to look after it well," I assure quickly and glance down at the ring, causing laughter to ripple through the group of press people in front of us.
"Do you have a wedding date?" calls out a female voice from somewhere in the back.
We agreed in advance not to get into specifics here, so I answer somewhat vaguely, "We hope to be married by the end of the year."
"Which means you should all invest in some thermal underwear," jokes Ken.
The answer is a collective groan. As seasoned royal correspondents, they know, of course, that we're gearing up for a winter wedding and that, for them, it'll mean hours spend outside in the freezing cold while they report about it.
"You can send us the invoice," I quip, hoping to lighten the mood again, and sure enough, the groans turn into laughter – surprised laughter, I think – once more.
"One more question," decrees Arlene from the side.
At this, several reporters shout out their questions, but the loudest is, "Any plans for children yet?"
Instinctively, I turn to Ken and find him looking at me as well. He quirks up an eyebrow, making me laugh, and the cameras go a-clicking.
"Let's just take one step at a time," he tells the reporter with that winning smile of his.
"Alright, that's it," decides Arlene. "No more questions. Take your final pictures, please."
"But we don't have any detail on the dress yet!" protests a female reporter and for a moment, I think she means the wedding dress (on which I have not detail yet either!), but then realise she means the dress I'm wearing right now.
Before I can reply though, Arlene answers, "Details about Miss Blythe's attire will be released to you shortly."
Well. I guess that's good news for the up-and-coming fashion label that made this dress, isn't it?
To the disappointed grumble of the press, Ken slips his arm from around my waist and turns to walk back up the stairs. When I follow his lead, he immediately reaches out to take my hand again and holds it tight. Walking up the stairs, I'm silently grateful that the skirt of my dress is both knee-length and swishy, ensuring that there won't be any inappropriate shots, because the photographers are still snapping away, even now that we have our backs turned to them.
At the top of the stairs, Ken pauses and half-turns, raising a hand to wave at the reporters. I follow suit, which feels a little odd after years of not waving at reporters, but then, many things are different now.
"Do we at least get a kiss?" a young man to the side calls out cheekily.
Arlene makes a protesting sound, but when I glance at Ken, I can see he's thinking, his eyes twinkling wickedly. I hurry to send him a discreet warning glance (I'm not kissing him in front of all these people and their cameras!), but I should have trusted him. Instead of giving me a proper kiss, he raises my be-ringed hand that he's still holding and dramatically kisses the back of it. I laugh, surprised, and that's the money shot.
Even as we stand there, I know this is the image that will be reproduced over and over again, because it is unique and romantic and joking, all rolled into one. As far as photographic representation of Ken and me goes, it's not half-bad, either.
The press, at least, seem satisfied now that they've gotten their special photo and there's not much protest when Arlene ushers us back into the palace where the TV interview awaits.
The interviewer is a friendly woman named Monica, who's been a royal correspondent with the BBC for long enough that Ken, Owen and Leslie profess to trust her. I briefly met her this morning and she was friendly and reassuring, setting my nerves at ease somewhat.
"Remember to just answer the questions as naturally as possible," she tells me after Ken and I have sat down on a sofa opposite her in the White Drawing Room. "If you misspeak, we can cut that out and start again. If you don't know what to say, let him answer. He's done this before."
"I have," confirms Ken with pretended earnestness. I roll my eyes at him, but feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
"Every question I'm going to ask you was cleared with your office beforehand, but if you feel uncomfortable with one of them, just say so and we will cut that out, too," continues Monica, calmly and reassuringly. "Just think of this as a nice chat between friends. Today, we all want the two of you to look your best, me included."
"I can subscribe to that," I agree with a slightly nervous smile, before giving a grateful nod to Charlotte who just tugged the skirt of my dress into place one last time.
Ken lightly bumps his shoulder against mine. "You always look your best."
Of course, cheesy comments like that warrant even more eye rolling, but this time, I'm truly smiling while I do it, feeling secretly pleased with the compliment. I made an effort today, after all, and who doesn't like being told they look nice?
As I smile at him, Ken grins back widely and it's that moment, with the two of us beaming at each other like a pair of besotted teenagers, that the TV people decide to begin footage of the interview.
Monica, apparently having received some unseen prompt that they're starting, speaks up and both and Ken turn back to her quickly. "First of all, let me congratulate you on your engagement," Monica begins, "and allow me to ask the question everyone is waiting to hear about. Can you tell us more about the proposal? Was it romantic? Did he go down on one knee?"
Before I have a chance to answer, Ken immediately starts chatting away cheerfully, "I'm not sure it was romantic, per se, but it was certainly very heartfelt and joyous. It's no overstatement to call it the happiest day of my life – so far."
He pauses briefly and when I look at him, I find his eyes twinkling back at me. "That said, she didn't go down on one knee though," he adds, outwardly pensive but really just out to tease me. "Do you think I should have held out for that?"
Monica blinks, clearly surprised by this turn of events. "Do you mean to suggest…" She trails off, but Ken shows now inclination to pick up her half-asked question.
Looks like it's time for me to step in. But no matter. I'm a modern, independent woman, after all, and I can propose to whoever I like!
"He means to say that strictly speaking, I asked him, not the other way round," I explain with what I hope is a confident smile. "I guess you could say I got a little tired of waiting."
"Hey!" protests Ken. "Who's revisionist now?"
I don't look at him though, instead keeping my eyes fixed on Monica. "He tried before, you must know, but not exactly successfully, so I decided to take matters upon myself."
"I had the ring though," Ken interjects. "And I would have asked sooner, had it not been for, you know, circumstances beyond my control."
Instinctively, I find myself smiling at his choice of words. I guess that's one way of putting it.
"Long story short, we decided together to wait for the right time and when it came, I beat him to it," I tell Monica, who laughs.
"It would appear so," she agrees. "But since you mentioned it, let's talk about the ring. It looks spectacular and it comes with quite the history attached to it as well, I heard."
Ken nods. "It's one of the Cullinan chips, so it's obviously somewhat recognisable. I knew I wanted to give it to Rilla for a long time and was glad when my parents agreed to my request."
"I must admit that I was a little nervous to be given such an important diamond to wear," I add honestly, "but at the same time, I'm honoured and proud to be given a family heirloom, especially because Ken's family has grown so dear to me in the past years."
"We might only have gotten engaged last month, but in truth, Rilla has been a part of my family for a long time," Ken explains. "Her family has never been anything but extremely kind and welcoming to me either, but just between us, I often think my family actually likes her better than me."
"Aww!" Laughing, I reach out to pat his hand. "They like you fine, I'm sure."
Monica chuckles at our antics, but already has the next question waiting, directing it at me. "Obviously, you moved continents for your relationship to be able to work out. Would you say Britain has become a home to you now?"
"Absolutely!" My answer comes without a second thought. "Obviously, Canada will always be a home to me, too, and New York holds a special place for me as well, but I know consider England to be my primary home. I haven't gotten as much of a chance to get to know the other parts of the UK yet, but it's one of the things I'm looking forward to immensely."
"Do you plan to apply for British citizenship after you're married?" Monica wants to know. "If my information is correct, the Duchess of Kendal plans to apply to become a British citizen once the required amount of time has passed."
"Yes, except Rilla doesn't need me for that," Ken chimes in proudly.
At Monica's questioning expression, I explain, "I've lived, studied and worked in the UK on an Ancestry Visa for five years now, so I'm eligible to apply for permanent residency this month. Next year, I can apply for citizenship on that same basis, irrespective of my marital status."
"But of course, we're getting married anyway," Ken feels the need to clarify, causing both Monica and me to laugh.
"Do you plan to retain your Canadian citizenship?" Monica asks. "I think the Duchess of Kendal intents to hold dual citizenship in the future."
I nod. "Yes, the same applies to me. Obviously, the UK is my home now, but Canada is where I'm from and where I grew up. I like the idea of citizenship providing a double link to the two countries I feel closest to and where I've lived for most of my life."
"With the exception of the years you lived in New York for your studies," adds Monica, clearly well-informed. "We all know it's where your love blossomed, but despite intensive research, I couldn't find any information about how you actually met."
Automatically, I look over at Ken – and the moment our eyes meet, we both burst out into laughter.
Monica waits, confused but patient, until we've calmed down enough again for me to answer, "We met at a reception hosted by the UN while Ken was doing his internship with them. I accompanied my brother-in-law at short notice, because my sister decided to stay at home to care for her sick child."
I don't offer up any more information, wanting to leave it up to Ken how much more he wants to reveal, which he does cheerfully. "Poor Jake, Rilla's nephew, was ill with stomach flu and what would descend on me from nowhere in the middle of the reception but the very same malaise? Rilla stepped in and saved me from vomiting all over the esteemed guests."
"By deliberately crashing into a waiter carrying several glasses of red wine and ruining a dress lent by my sister in the process," I add, grimacing slightly.
"So, not only were you the one to propose to him," Monica muses, "you also provided the knight in shining armour to his –" She breaks off, catching herself just in time.
"To his damsel in distress!" I finish for her, laughing. "I certainly did!"
Ken purses his lips. "I resent that," he remarks mildly, clearly not meaning a word.
"That's quite the tale!" declares Monica, smiling. "Though of course, after a year spent together in New York, you had to make your relationship work long-distance. Was that a challenging time for you?"
"It wasn't always easy," Ken replies, now growing serious. "Of course, I missed being with Rilla and I hated that I couldn't be with her permanently after our relationship had been revealed to the public. We all want to be there for those we love and I couldn't support her in the way I wanted to – or should have. Over the years, Rilla has been such a support to me, not the least during the illness of my father, but I couldn't and didn't always provide the same support to her and yes, the distance played a part in that."
"I think as with every couple, it was a learning curve for us," I add thoughtfully. "In many ways, we face the same trials other couples do, though the public nature of our relationship adds its own challenges. There were good and not so good times over the years and while I think it's safe to say that there were moments when we both could have behaved in a more commendable way, ultimately, we always fought to be with each other and I think that made all of the difference."
Monica nods. "Of course, one of the not so good times was when you broke up two years ago. What did that time feel like for you?"
She directs the question at me, but before I can answer, Ken steps in to take it. "I'm afraid it's me you want to ask that, because ultimately, the decision to end things back then lay with Rilla," he explains evenly. "Obviously, I was less than happy about that, but I understood her reasons and I always considered a mark of respect to someone else to accept their decisions, even when they hurt. And yes, that one did hurt."
"I hurt myself with it," I reply, swallowing. "Rationally, I know I did what I needed to do and I think that the lessons I learned in that time helped make us stronger, but… it hurt something awful."
"What did you do during your time apart?" Monica asks, looking at Ken. "Did you hope that you'd get a second chance?"
Ken laughs mirthlessly. "Hope, certainly. I didn't dare believe, but I hoped the entire time. There's this…" He pauses, collecting himself. "There's this somewhat cheesy saying that if you truly love someone, you let them go and if it's meant to be, they come back to you. I held on to that a bit."
He's looking at me now, his thumb lightly stroking the back of my hand. I turn my head as well, our eyes meeting and forging a connection of all the things we can't say here but have no need to say to each other anyway, because we know. Oh, we know.
"And she did come back to you," Monica states carefully.
"Yes," I breathe, still holding Ken's tender gaze. "Best decision I ever made."
The title of this chapter is taken from the song 'Tangled Up in Blue' (written by Bob Dylan, released by him in 1975).
To DogMonday:
I find the logistics of events like these fascinating, so I'm having fun with these logistic-oriented chapters. We'll get bits and pieces of more planning throughout the next couple of chapters, though not as massed as in the previous chapter. And we still have three months worth of chapters to go, so the end isn't quite near yet =).
It was important to me to show Ken and Rilla as a unity here. As the royal person in the room, Ken is formally the one chairing, but he's making no decisions without Rilla and what's more, he's making it clear that he won't make any decisions without Rilla - if anything, she's going to decide some thing without him. But the main thing is that they're equals in this and they're openly calling the shots together, leaving little doubt about that to the staff.
I actually think the royal staff have pretty much come around to the idea of Rilla as the next queen. Elphinestone is, perhaps, the best example of that. He was dismissive of her during that meeting when Ken was away, but he worked together well with her during Owen's illness and he's being perfectly respectful and constructive here as well. It's only Dame Eileen and Pinkham who're making things a little difficult, but not for personal reasons. They just can't see beyond their own plans and start flailing when they're made to.
We really do get to see several different sides of Rilla in this chapter, all at the same time. I believe the giddy, playful Rilla also had her moments in the spotlight, especially when telling friends and the wider family (and we do see glimpses of it in her silent interaction with Melissa, who's also giddy on the inside and professional on the outside), but she knows that if she wants to be taken seriously be the staff in the future, she needs to be professional here. Planning and problem-solving are some of her strong points, so while this is a daunting task even for her, it's also one that allows her to the occasion. Plus, as you say, she can show the confidence that she acquired in the last years in the way she handles the meeting and, yes, also handles the staff this time around.
You're right, there are 10 people in the room. I could now make up a claim about how Rilla counted nine other people or that someone sneaked in late while the meeting was underway, but the truth is, I apparently can't count ;). I've gone back and changed it. Thanks for catching that!
We've now tackled the TV interview and the wedding dress is coming up next. We will also get part of the family coming over to help with planning and yes, there'll be a Presbyterian minister taking part in the wedding, not out of necessity but as a nod to Rilla and her own denomination. As you said, lots of interesting things still to come!