Windsor, England
September 2017
We'd all love to see the plan
"She's gorgeous," whispers Nan almost reverently and stretches out a hand to stroke the silky black fur.
Rusalka turns her head and looks down at my sister with large, dark eyes. I gently pat her neck.
"This is Rusalka," I introduce her. "She's Leslie's horse, but I'm allowed to ride her."
"Lucky you!" sighs Nan. "She's really beautiful."
"Like Black Beauty," chimes in Joy teasingly.
Nan gives her a withering look. "Black Beauty was a stallion, in case you didn't know."
"Well, he was also black," Joy points out with a grin.
With an eye-roll, Nan turns her back on Joy and lightly strokes Rusalka's nose. "Don't listen to her," she murmurs. "You're black and you're beautiful, but definitely you're not a man!"
"I reckon her life is much nicer, too," comments Di as she strolls closer. "It doesn't get loftier than 'personal riding horse of a queen and a queen-to-be'."
This time, I'm the one rolling my eyes, before also sticking out my tongue at Di for good measure. "Careful! I'll have you know that the royal-to-be version of me is trained in martial arts," I warn her playfully.
Unperturbed, Di just grins and shrugs.
"Are these our horses?" asks Joy behind me, drawing my attention to the two horses being led from the stable by Tiago, of the stable hands.
"Yes, these are for you," I confirm. "You'll ride Jack, who's Ken's personal polo pony. And for Nan, we have Roman. He's one of Persis's competition horses and the first horse I sat one when I came here."
I still remember how gentle and calm Roman was with me and if anything, he's only grown more relaxed since then. Jack, on the other hand, is a very spirited animal and not the relaxed type at all, but he has an inherent sense of what his mission is at any given time and if that mission consists of bringing Joy back home safely, he will make darn sure that he succeeds.
With a smile and a quick thanks, I take the reins of both horses from Tiago and hand them over to my sisters. Jack immediately nudges Joy's shoulder, making her laugh, while Roman lowers his head and allows Nan to rub his forehead.
Di, watching that, sighs heavily. "I'd love to come with you. This looks like fun!"
Being nearly two months pregnant, Di was cleared for the trans-Atlantic flight by her doctor, but riding is a risk she doesn't want to take, especially considering how rusty her own riding skills are after years of disuse.
"Maybe next year?" suggests Nan with a sympathetic look at her twin.
"Maybe," agrees Di with a wry and unconvincing smile.
I'm still considering whether it would be kind to tell her to join Mum and Leslie for tea at the castle while we go out riding or whether it would be adding insult to injury, when I hear the clatter of equine hooves. Turning, I see a small carriage come around the corner, drawn by Shrewie and Pembie, the pinto Shetland ponies, and driven by a beaming Persis.
"I heard someone might be in need of our services today," she announces cheerfully while stopping the ponies right in front of Di.
Di looks surprised for a moment, but then a smile spreads over her face. "You heard correctly. Very nice of you."
Looking pleased, Persis points behind herself, indicating for Di to sit in one of the rear-facing passenger seats of the pony carriage. Joy quickly holds out a hand to help her and Di climbs up the carriage.
With that problem neatly solved, I turn to Rusalka to prepare her for our ride, with Joy and Nan following suit. I've just loosened the second stirrup, when I hear Di's voice, "You can come with us if you want to. There's still space next to me."
Ducking beneath Rusalka's neck, I see Di pat the seat by her side. When I follow her gaze, I see Amy standing half-hidden by the entrance to the stable, looking uncertain. It's the first time I'm seeing her today, but I suspect she had a riding lesson with Persis earlier and heard about my sisters and me planning to go for a ride.
"Come on." I wave her closer and give her an encouraging smile.
Amy takes a few steps forward before hesitating. "I don't know… I don't want to impose…"
"Nonsense," replies Joy firmly.
"The more, the merrier," Nan corroborates.
Another cautious step closer from Amy, but she's evidently still not convinced. "I don't… I don't want to add more weight for the ponies to draw."
"That's okay," Persis is quick to assure. "They won't even notice you. They're small but sturdy. Aren't you, boys?"
The Shetland ponies don't appear to be listening to her, being locked in a play-fight that has both of them trying to bite in the other's crest. Persis looks down at them with an indulgent smile, but gives the reins a little pull to make them stop. Pembie flicks his ears, clearly irritated by the human, and Shrewie takes the opportunity to get a last bite and pull at his mate's mane.
"See? Full of energy," I point out with a nod at the ponies who are just getting a sharper rap from Persis to get them in line.
Obviously feeling encouraged by the ponies' antics, Amy slowly crosses the final steps between the stable and the carriage. Di stretches out a hand to pull her up and with a shy smile, Amy sits down next to her.
Nan and Joy are already astride their respective horses, so I quickly mount Rusalka as well.
"Is everyone settled?" Joy asks. "Then let's go!"
Persis clucks her tongue to get the ponies moving and we riders fall in line behind the carriage. Whistling softly, I call Lottie who appears from behind a ball of hay and takes up position beside Rusalka, while we follow the pony carriage from the stable yard. (Behind us, I notice, are two PPOs on horseback. This part of Windsor Great Park is inaccessible to the public, but not inaccessible enough that they'll let Persis, Amy and me gallivant around it without protection. And frankly, after getting a taste of what a kidnapping might feel like earlier this month – and with a still-sore shoulder as a constant reminder –, I don't really mind their presence.) Seeing as both Di and Amy sit backwards on the carriage, they're facing us riders, which makes conversation with them rather easy, while Persis intermittently interjects her own remarks from the front.
"Any news about the wedding?" Amy asks shyly, looking over at me.
Amy, just like Persis and my sisters, has been a great help with the wedding planning, returning the support I tried to provide earlier this year. It really means that everyone present is involved in some way or another, so maybe it was always inevitable that this ride would turn into an impromptu wedding planning session soon enough.
"Lucy and I had our first dress fitting the other day," calls out Persis from the front in response to Amy's question. "The dresses are just gorgeous and Pip is so nice!"
To keep the style consistent, I asked Pip and her team to do the dresses of my adult bridesmaids in addition to my two wedding dresses. (Yes, two dresses. One for the ceremony and one for the party because when can a girl splurge if not on her wedding day?) The children's clothes are done by a Canadian company specialising in children's fashion and overseen by Di. As the children in my wedding party live all over the place, real life fitting wouldn't be possible anyway, so they're working mostly from measures, but for us adults, proper fittings are the way to go. The fitting sessions for all three of us take place at Marlborough House where Great-Aunt Tanya lives, the better to keep the designer and the designs secret. Apparently, it's super important that no-one has any idea what the dress looks like before the big day arrives.
"Pip is amazing," I agree. "I'm so glad I stumbled upon her and her shop. I love just about everything she designs and she really gets my vision for the dresses. And because she's half-British and her business is based in London, no-one can complain about me not supporting the British fashion industry either!"
"It makes for such a great story, too!" swoons Nan. "To think she wrote about you all the way back when she was just a fashion student and you and Ken had just started dating – and now she's the one doing your dress!"
"Some might say that her connection to Rilla hasn't hurt her professionally," Di points out and raises an eyebrow.
"At least she's always been nice about it," Joy argues. "Even way back when being nasty to Rilla seems to have been some sort of sport in the press."
Ugh, don't remind me!
Exchanging a quick look with Amy, I see her grimace and answer with a wry smile of my own. My sisters have had their share of press attention – right now especially so, as everyone tries to wheedle information about the wedding out of them – and they've suffered for it, but they don't know what it feels like to have the entire onslaught of their vitriol focused on you. Amy and I do, and so does Persis. She, perhaps, most of all.
"And Pip is on no-one's radar." That's Nan, continuing the conversation without having noticed Amy's and my silent exchange. "Grandmother Marilla is keeping track of the press and she says that in all of the articles speculating about the designer, no-one ever even got close to mentioning Pip."
Grandmother Marilla and Grandpa John took it upon themselves to stay on top of what's written about me many, many years ago. They've stuck to it with good cheer and tenacity, even though with the wedding, it's very nearly become a fulltime job. They reliably alert my to everything they feel I should look at and while I now have a communications office to do the same, I still trust my grandparents a little bit more.
"The press speculation is certainly rife," I remark with a comical little half-sigh, because while the press decided I'm their new favourite person now that I have a sparkling ring on my finger, not a day passes without a dozen articles speculating about all possible details of the wedding – some of which I never even thought to consider myself.
"It can also be helpful though," chimes in Joy. "There's this great blog about you that Izzie found. They have posts about all possible wedding subjects like venue, dress designer, tiara, wedding party, cake, food, guests… They list a lot of different options for each area with photos and additional information."
I lean around Nan to give Joy a doubtful look. "That sounds creepy. You know that sounds creepy, right?"
"It is creepy," she replies cheerfully. "But also potentially helpful. I mean, they have a blog post about all the bouquets carried by royal brides of yore, including explanations about the meanings of the flowers used."
My doubtful expression turns to horror immediately. "Are you telling me my wedding bouquet has to mean something? What else do I have to pay attention to?" I wail.
Joy shrugs daintily. "Well, you wouldn't want the flowers to accidentally announce to the world that your groom has warts, do you?"
"There's a flower to say that?" Di asks, almost managing to sound sincerely curious, if not for her barely-suppressed grin making it clear that she's taking the mickey.
"I can help you with the flowers," pipes up Amy. "I know a little about the language of flowers."
"You've got the job!" I announce quickly, giving her a grateful smile.
One less thing to worry about!
"According to the blog, the royal bridal bouquets always include a sprig of myrtle from a bush grown from a spray that was taken from Queen Victoria's bouquet," Joy informs us.
"Yes, and they're also put on the Grave of the Unknown Soldier after the wedding as per a tradition started by Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon when she married Prince Francis, Duke of St Andrews in 1926," I add to show her that I know around my way around royal lore just fine on my own (and thanks to Owen, admittedly). To my credit, I just about resist the urge to stick out my tongue at her.
"You're both insufferable know-it-alls," declares Nan cheerfully, giving a sweet smile first to Joy, then to me.
I catch Joy's eye over Roman's flank and she gives me a conspiratorial wink. I grin, before reaching forward and patting Rusalka's neck.
"I meant to ask," calls out Persis from the front of the carriage, "have you decided on a baker for the cake yet?"
"I have," I confirm blithely. "I still have to tell Ken though."
"Is there a particular reason you haven't told him yet?" asks Amy and furrows her brows.
I laugh. "My friend Dev offered to make the cake and he's known for his… unusual recipes, which Ken knows all about. Dev promised the cake would be very traditional and boring though and Josh said he'd keep an eye on things." Josh moved to London after finishing his PhD earlier this summer and is currently sharing a flat with Dev, meaning he's excellently placed to make sure the cake doesn't come out tasting of curry stew.
"Traditional?" repeats Di, wrinkling her nose. "Don't tell me you're having fruitcake!"
Nan shudders visibly. "Tradition or not, no-one likes fruitcake!"
"Dev said as much," I reply. "He said he'd do a fruitcake if we insisted, but wouldn't we consider some of his other suggestions first? He assured me that none of them would feature crab meat and also suggested that we don't go with just one cake. Of course, Ken and I have to do the actual tastings first, but if Dev has his way, we'll have a cake with six tiers and six different fillings, plus several smaller cakes with one type of filling each."
"Is there chocolate?" Persis wants to know.
"Oh, yes. Izzie would want to me ask that as well," Joy backs her up enthusiastically.
"Izzie already did ask, in fact, and I assured her that there definitely will be chocolate," I assure, smiling. "She wanted to know the entire menu in advance, actually, claiming that she needed to know whether she'd have to bring back-up food. I passed her on to Ken, because while I claimed cake, the other food is his metier."
That piques Nan's attention. "Did you divide up decisions?"
"Not as such, no." I shake my head. "We're making the actual decisions together, but we figured we could save some time by splitting up the organising of smaller details. Thus, he's in charge of some areas, I'm taking care of others, and then we get together for the decision-making."
"Food is a good pick for Ken," opinions Persis. "He's a perfectly decent cook. But don't tell him I said so!"
Laughing, I promise, "We wouldn't dream of it."
"What else did you trust him with?" Di enquires, looking like she doesn't think Ken should be trusted with anything of great importance.
"Music," I reply. "Or rather, the music for the party in the evening. Leslie is taking care of the musical score for the ceremony because when it comes to classical music, Ken doesn't know his Brahms from his Beethoven."
"Neither do you," Joy points out slyly.
I refuse to let her teasing get to me though, so I just agree easily, "That's right. Neither do I."
"But you know your Beatles from your Eagles. I still remember how you used to sit at Dad's feet as a child and listened to his music with him." Nan sounds almost a bit nostalgic, her expression becoming wistful as she thinks back to our childhood days.
"So does Ken, thankfully, so I think he'll be fine." I shrug, pushing away my own feelings of nostalgia as I remember the old days of Dad and me bonding over music. "Though when I made fun of his Disney prince uniform the other day, he did threaten to set our wedding dance to a medley of the most awful 80s love songs he could find, so maybe I'd be well-advised to sneak a look at whatever he's organising."
"It sure sounds like it!" agrees Joy quickly, having learned enough from Dad to recognise the 80s as a questionable decade for music – though arguable not as questionable as what came afterwards. Call me a musical snob, but those 90s boybands had very few redeeming qualities!
Alas, I think we've talked enough about me for now.
"What about you?" I therefore ask, directing the question at my sisters in general. "Any ideas what you plan on wearing yet?"
My gaze falls on Amy first and she, evidently feeling compelled to speak, answers quickly, "I'm having a violet coat dress designed, with a darker purple hat and shoes. I think it will look quite nice."
Di sighs heavily. "Lucky you for having it figured out! I have plenty of ideas, but whether this one will let me go through with them is another matter." She affectionately pats her still-flat stomach.
"Pick an outfit with some flexibility," Joy advises. "Or better yet, have two different outfits and decide spontaneously which one fits best on the actual day. At that stage of pregnancy, the body can change so much in the span of just a few hours."
"Lots to look forward to, then," Di replies wryly, but I know she doesn't mean it. Both she and Nia are over the moon about the pregnancy and very much looking forward to meeting their little one next spring.
"We should consider coordinating our outfits," remarks Nan thoughtfully. "That's not to say we should be all matchy-matchy, but we shouldn't clash or look too similar either."
Di waves a haphazard hand in her direction. "Sounds like you just volunteered to do the coordinating."
"I'm busy!" protests Nan. "Do you know how much work it is to set up a practice?" Having graduated shortly after Josh, Nan is planning to set up her own practice for child psychology after her return to Toronto, which admittedly means she probably does have her work cut out for her in the upcoming weeks.
"I'll do it," Joy interjects, obviously more to keep the peace than because she at all cares about whether her wedding outfit will clash with Mum's.
Speaking of Mum…
"Should we try for a little trot?" I suggest. "If we hurry this up a little, there might be some cake and scones left from Mum and Leslie's tea."
My sisters agree to that enthusiastically and both Persis and Amy have the good grace not to point out that the kitchen will send up all the cakes and scones we want if only we ask for them. Thus, we do change into a trot – or a canter in case of the Shetland ponies, which jostles the occupants of the little carriage a bit – and while I keep a watchful eye on Joy and Nan, they both appear to be doing fine. With some trotting mixed in, we make good progress and finish our ride in good time. Certainly in time for tea!
Once back at the stable, we pass the horses to some of the stable-hands. It's not something Persis and I usually do, preferring to take care of our riding horses ourselves, but with my sisters and mother only being here for a week, I want to make the most of my time with them. After quickly changing out of our riding gear, the six of us share two golf carts up to the castle, managing to get there almost but not quite unseen by the tourists mingling about.
Having reached the castle, Persis leads us to the White Drawing Room, where Mum and Leslie are indeed still having tea. The table in front of them is laden with enough scones and cakes and sandwiches to feed all of us and then some, leading me to believe that Cook probably factored us in already.
"You're back! Did you enjoy your ride?" Mum asks when we enter, smiling her Mum smile.
"It was fun," replies Joy sincerely. "Persis was kind enough to take Di in her pony carriage."
Persis shrugs and makes a gesture as if to say 'it was nothing'. Leslie reaches out to squeeze her arm.
"Very nice," agrees Di, but anyone can see she's distracted by the food piled in front of her.
Leslie doesn't miss it either. "Please, have a seat and help yourself."
Not needing to be told twice, Di sits down next to Mum and piles a plate with scones, cakes and cucumber sandwichs. When Nan raises a teasing eyebrow at her, she just shrugs. "What? I'm eating for two!"
"And even if you weren't, you could have as much scones and cake as you want," assures Leslie. "You all can."
"Cook is always happiest when no food is sent back to the kitchen," I add while following Leslie's discreet wave and walking over to sit next to her.
Once we're all seated and the others are busy filling their plates and pouring their tea, Leslie passes me a blue folder. "This was just sent from the College of Arms," she explains. "It's a draft for your family's coat of arms."
"Coat of arms?" repeats Nan curiously. "Are we getting one?"
"We'd like to offer you one as a family, yes," confirms Leslie. "Amy here was granted a coat of arms for herself because it would have been awkward for her family to accept one, them being Americans. However, since Canada is part of the Commonwealth, that puts you in a different position. With the coat of arms being granted to Gilbert instead of Rilla it's possible for all of you to use it, should you so wish."
Di raises both eyebrows, but her mouth is full of scone, so thankfully, she can't make a comment. Joy mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "better not tell Grandma Bertha". Nan, however, can be relied upon to show enthusiasm.
"Open it," she tells me, craning her neck to get a better look at the folder in my lap. "I want to see the design!"
"Me, too," agrees Mum and leans forward. Both Mum and Dad were present via video call when Ken and I sat down with the Garter King of Arms to discuss what our family's coat of arms might look like.
Opening the folder, I reveal the design we tentatively agreed upon and hold it up for everyone to see.
"The supporters here are taken from the coat of arms or Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island, respectively" I explain, pointing at the white unicorn and the silver fox holding a shield between them. "The helmet with the blue and white plume is also taken from Nova Scotia's coat of arms while the little blue jay sitting on top of it appears on that of Prince Edward Island."
"What is it holding in its beak?" asks Amy, pointing at the little bird.
I quickly turn the sheet around to get a look at whatever the bird is holding. "A leaf of some sort, it appears. I don't know which one," I answer, pursing my lips.
"A leaf of the red acorn tree," chimes in Persis who grabbed the rest of the contents of the folder and sat down on the floor, the better to peruse the papers she pulled from it. Apparently, someone was kind enough to include an explanation.
I incline my head towards her. "What she said. I don't really know about the leaf, but I do know about the flowers. We have mayflowers for Nova Scotia and Lady's Slippers for Prince Edward Island as well as shamrocks and thistles to represent our Scottish and Irish ancestors." As I speak I point at the flowers scattered over the part below the shield that's meant to look like a meadow. "The earth around them, as you can see, is red, for obvious reasons."
That gets nods from my family, but Amy looks a bit confused. Mum, noticing it, leans towards her and explains kindly, "The soil on Prince Edward Island is famously bright red." Immediately, Amy's face clears in understanding.
"On the actual shield, we have nine maple leaves, also for obvious reasons. Mum and Dad are the two bigger ones at the top here and we're the seven smaller leaves below," I continue my explanation. "The blue background is meant to represent the oceans on either side of Canada and these golden sunrays here are a pun on the word 'blithe' as meaning sunny or bright."
"There's a sunscreen label named Blithe," pipes up Di unhelpfully. Joy unceremoniously stuffs another piece of scone in her mouth.
"It's an excellent coat of arms," declares Leslie as I hand her the sheet so she can get a better look. "I'm sure Owen will agree."
"Yes, it turned out very well," agrees Mum, smiling.
Nan, however, doesn't look quite and enthusiastic as before, so I raise a questioning eyebrow at her.
"It looks great, don't get me wrong," she states slowly. "I love the symbolism and I think the elements balance each other very nicely. It's just about the unicorn…" She trails off, but I immediately know what she means – and I entirely agree.
"What's the matter with the unicorn?" asks Persis, looking up from the papers she's spread out around her. "We have it in our coat of arms as well. I like it better than the lion."
"I think what Nan means to ask is whether it's possible to unchain the unicorn," I explain. "I know it's chained in your coat of arms, but I dare say we'd all like it better unchained."
Persis frowns, looking thoughtful. "I never considered that, but you're right. There's no reason for the poor unicorn to be chained!"
I think there are reasons, historical ones, but I also think that we should really be past that by now. Surely, Scotland has earned, if not independence, then at least respect?
"I don't see why the unicorn couldn't be unchained on your coat of arms," Leslie assures us. "If you all like the rest of the design, you can just get back in touch with the Garter King of Arms, Rilla, and tell him to make the change."
Nan smiles happily and Joy nods her agreement. Di still looks like she doesn't get the entire discussion, but when I look at her, she shrugs to indicate that she isn't actually bothered either. Mum looks perfectly enthusiastic anyhow, so I guess that means that as far as they are concerned, we've got ourselves a coat of arms.
"Splendid!" declares Mum when no-one offers any protest. "And having settled that, let's move on to possible readings for your wedding, Rilla-darling. Leslie and I discussed possible options while you were out riding and I think we have some good ones. Now, if you want to look here…"
And so, I guess, it continues.
The title of this chapter is taken from the song 'Revolution' (written by John Lennon, released by The Beatles in 1968).
To DogMonday:
Well, I wasn't going to have this story make a U-turn and become a crime thriller so close to the end, so I guess the training exercise wasn't too surprising ;). Mostly, I wanted to keep it a bit vague in the beginning because it's vague for Rilla, too. Rationally, she knows it's very likely just a simulation, but she isn't completely sure of it, so it's all a bit up in the air. I tried to keep with that feeling for the reader as well, though I firmly think Hanson disappered from her side far too quickly for this to have been real. That really was the biggest clue!
I don't know if the training that the real royals go through is as intense as I wrote it with the hood and the ties, but we do know that Meghan underwent a staged kidnapping as part of her security training after her engagement and presumably Kate as well. From what we know, Meghan found it quite stressful as well and no wonder! Even knowing rationally that it's not real, the body reacts to a perceived danger situation anyway, which is what I tried to touch on in the conversation between Rilla and Ken. It's also why we see her break down at the end, because while it wasn't real, it was all too much for her in that moment to deal with.
Ken definitely skirts the line of being overprotective, but I think that's because he's probably in as much stress as Rilla is. He watched her the entire time on CCTV, saw her being bundled into the car, heard her scream, heard her beg for some human company... basically some of his worst nightmares playing out in front of his eyes. He's made big steps with his mental health, but this is all kinds of triggering for him. I think he probably was a nervous wreck most of the time, so considering that, he pulls himself together quite nicely, methinks. All things considered, he probably needs to get out of there as much as she does in that moment, but despite that, he's able to put Rilla first and be there to comfort her, which shows progess in getting his emotions in check. I rather think if they'd done this three years earlier, he would have made them interrupt the simulation prematuredly and she would have ended up being the one comforting him, so all in all, he's really not doing too badly here.
Yes, Preti is indeed bridesmaid number 7! She couldn't not be, right? And Simone will also be there with all the kids from the youth centre, who'll have a blast! Jake also gets his role in the wedding, namely that he's the one to do the reading, seeing as he's a bit old for page boy by now. I also have a sweet little scene between him and Rilla right before the end of the last chapter (apart from Ken, he gets to be the last person she interacts with before the story gets tied into a bow), to do justice to their special relationship =).
You read Dark Clouds! I'm excited! I'm so glad you enjoyed it, because of all my stories, it's still the one most dear to my heart. Twist is a close second, but all the meticulous research that went into Dark Clouds and the fact that it was my first story branching into the English-speaking LMM fandom means that it holds a special spot. It's definitely still possible to review it and I'm so much looking forward to reading what you thought of it!