Montreal, Canada
June 2015

If you want the truth

Seraphina rolls over on the hotel bed and drops the book she was holding. It hits the floor with a thud.

"Could someone please tell the woman that rape doesn't make a good plot device?" she huffs.

I look up from my phone and at the book lying spine up on the floor, recognising it as the umpteenth book in the Outlander series. "Yeah, I think that ship has sailed," I remark drily. "In fact, I think it sailed twenty years ago."

Seraphina heaves a heavy sigh and lets her head hang over the side of the bed, her hair brushing the carpet below. I raise an eyebrow at her upside down face and smile.

"Look, it's not that I don't appreciate a hot ginger Scot in a kilt," she explains, looking slightly put out. "And I know violence was more widespread in olden times. I just refuse to believe that people got raped every bloody week, even then!"

"You could go back in time and find out," I suggest with a grin. Reaching up, I unclasp my necklace and throw her the small amethyst pendant Ken gave me for my 22nd birthday. "Here, does it feel hot to you?"

To Seraphina's credit, she catches the jewel even while hanging upside down from the bed. "Very funny." She sticks out her tongue at me. "Besides, have you seen a stone circle somewhere around here?"

"Not in Montreal," I concede. "But I promise to show you plenty when you come visit me next time."

"Deal!" agrees Seraphina, affecting the approximation of a nod. She fishes for her book, but can't quite reach it, her fingers barely grazing the cover.

I get up from where I've been sitting at the small desk by the window and walk over to her. Once there, I pick up the book and hand it to her, before flopping down on the bed by her side. Seraphina squeaks in protest when the mattress sinks down and jostles her.

"Be careful!" she chides, sitting back up to throw me a dark glance. I merely smile sweetly, which causes her to throw her book at me. I catch it with a laugh.

"Don't let my mother see you throwing books around," I advise teasingly. "She has strong opinions on the mistreatment of books."

"Knowing your mother, she won't have strong opinions on the mistreatment of this book," Seraphina points out with a triumphant smile.

I incline my head. "You might have a point there." Rape as a plot device is not a trope I could ever see Mum getting behind.

"I usually do," Seraphina informs me confidently, while handing me back my necklace and reclaiming her book. "That's a pretty pendant, by the way."

"It is," I agree and put the necklace back on.

"From your prince?" she asks, not even bothering to hide her curiosity.

I smile slightly and nod confirmation.

"Was that him you've been messaging so fervently just now?" she wants to know, scooting a little closer and eyeing me with interest.

"Actually, no." I shake my head. "I got a text from his cousin's husband."

Seraphina scrunches up her nose in confusion. "His cousin's husband?"

"Adam," I supply. "He's married to Katie, who is Ken's cousin and my friend. She just had a little baby girl this morning and Adam messaged to tell me."

"Oh!" Seraphina perks up at this. "A baby! That's nice! Are there pictures?"

I open the photos Adam sent and hand her my phone.

"She's sweet," decides Seraphina after considering the pictures closely. "If a little… squished."

"I think that's a consequence of the whole process of birth," I remark, grimacing slightly.

"You bet!" she confirms, looking unperturbed. As a vet, Seraphina is anything but squeamish. I dare say that by now, she's helped birth more calves than I've ever even seen in my life.

She gives me back my phone. "Do we have a name?"

"Not yet, I think," I reply, "but from what I heard last, Philippa, Tabitha and Jemima were strong contenders."

Seraphina laughs. "Looks like your Katie has a similar taste in names to my mother."

I laugh. "It would appear so. Should I suggest Seraphina as an alternative?"

"Do," she agrees. "It would make my mother's year if a semi-royal baby had the same name as me."

Yes, it surely would. After all, Seraphina's mother also still harbours some hope that I might yet introduce her daughter to a rich English duke, even though Seraphina herself is perfectly content in her relationship with Huan, a fellow vet at the practice she works for.

Craning her neck to look at the digital clock of the TV, Seraphina asks, "Should we get ready?"

I check the time as well. "I think we still have a few minutes. The wedding won't be for another hour and both Di and Nia were adamant they have no need for people getting underfoot while they're dressing."

Di and Nia's wedding, after all, is why we're here today. Their apartment is only marginally bigger than my shoebox, so all of us guests were put up in hotel rooms. With most of my siblings rooming with their respective partners (including Shirley, who brought a pretty girl named Kylie as his date) but me being decidedly partner-less at the moment, Seraphina and I seized the opportunity to share a room and catch up properly. It almost feels like old times and there are moments when I find myself feeling a little wistful for the old New York days. Life was simpler then.

"Is that the dress you're wearing today?" asks Seraphina as she gets up from the bed and strolls over to where my sundress hangs from the outside of the bathroom door.

"Uh-huh," I confirm. "It's just LK Bennett, so nothing uber-fancy, but I like the pattern."

"It's pretty," agrees Seraphina. "The colour will look great on you."

Yes, that's what I was hoping when I picked out the dress last month. Both Tatty and Katie offered to let me raid their closets, but somehow, I didn't want to appear at my sister's wedding in a loaned dress or something too obviously expensive. (Which is also why I had to find a way to politely decline Great-Aunt Tanya's offer to have my pick from her jewellery box. She was honestly quite disappointed when I handed back a necklace with diamonds the size of my thumbnail – and, to be honest, so was the vainer part of me.)

"What are you planning on wearing?" I enquire of Seraphina.

Before she gets a chance to show me though, there's an insistent knock on the door. We exchange a confused glance, but when whoever is on the other side doesn't relent, Seraphina walks over to open the door.

"Where's Rilla?" demands Di and she doesn't sound happy.

I scramble up from the bed. Standing in the door are Di and Nia, both looking very serious.

"I'm here," I tell my sister as I face her, hoping to placate her. "What can I do for you?"

"There are reporters outside," Nia informs me, raising both eyebrows.

"There are," confirms Di. "Kindly make them go away, please?" (The words might be polite, but I can't help noticing that her tone doesn't match them.)

I sigh and take a step back. "I can't. You know that."

"Do I?" Di shoots back, sounding irritated.

"This was always… a possibility," I tell her helplessly. "I can't control where they go and if they think there's a lucrative photo to be taken somewhere, they're sure to show up. That's just how it goes."

Di doesn't look like my words did anything to soothe her. "They weren't at Jem and Faith's wedding," she points out.

"To be fair, from what Rilla said, they didn't announce it beforehand, so the reporters had no way of knowing," pipes up Seraphina in a valiant attempt to help me. I give her a quick smile over my shoulder, but other than that, no-one pays her any attention.

"I'm sorry, Di." I sigh again, facing my sister once more. "I'm truly, honestly, very sorry. I don't know what to do about it though, I really don't. I just… I hope they didn't bother you too much." The thought of the photographers harassing Di or Nia – or anyone, really – makes my stomach turn.

"They weren't really interested in Di and me," remarks Nia, frowning slightly. "They shouted for you and Ken to come out."

"Who isn't here," adds Di and as she says it, there's a slightly twitch in her otherwise carefully impassive face.

Behind me, Seraphina makes a sympathetic sound. I ball my hands into fists and dig my nails into my skin, fighting for composure.

"He sends his apologies," I tell Di. "As I told you. He would have loved to have been here, but duties intervened."

It's not even a lie either. The last time we talked, Ken expressed sincere regret about missing Di's wedding and made me promise to relay his apology and his best wishes alongside the present I'm giving in the name of both of us.

"That's what you said," replies Di stonily.

"It's true," I insist. "I'm not lying to you." (I'm not lying outright, at least.)

Di inclines her head sceptically. "I just wonder what these super-important duties could be that they can prevent him from attending a wedding he RSVPSed Yes to last autumn."

I grimace slightly. The excuse is weak and I know it. But telling the truth is out of the question.

"He can't always control these things," I answer, but it sounds weak even to my ears.

My sister just looks at me and for a moment, I think she won't be able to stand being in my presence anymore.

"They'll say he stayed away because Di is marrying a woman," Nia points out. She says it conversationally, but when I turn my head to her abruptly, her gaze is sharp and her expression alert.

"They will," agrees Di quietly. "It's not like it would be the first time they wrote one of these thinly-veiled –" She breaks off and shakes her head.

I swallow.

"If… if that's true and they'll write that, it'll make him look back and not you," I point out, hoping to make Di understand. "Him not coming to your wedding because of who you're marrying would make him look like… like a homophobe."

Di taps her foot on the floor once. "Well, is he?"

Wha –

I stare at her, rendered speechless.

"I'm sure he isn't," Seraphina interjects loyally.

"That's what we all thought," replies Nia calmly and slips her hand into Di's. "But it's hard to deny that his unexplained absence makes you wonder."

I splutter, unable to get a word out.

"Is it true?" asks Di and despite her carefully built façade, I can see hurt flash in her eyes. "Is your noble prince staying away because he disapproves of your sister marrying a woman?"

For several long moments, we look at each other, until I finally break the contact when I close my eyes and lower my head.

I need to figure this out. I need to explain. I need to make her – all of them – understand. And that's not even primarily because Ken isn't like that, it's because Di is hurt and Di being hurt won't do. She has to be happy and carefree and laughing, today more than on any other day.

"He's in Cyprus," I blurt out, before I even become aware of having made a decision. Opening my eyes, I cautiously look back at my sister.

Di just blinks.

"Cyprus?" repeats Seraphina quizzically.

"What's he doing in Cyprus?" asks Nia and frowns in confusion.

I sigh heavily. I guess I might as well let the cat out of the bag now.

"He's in the middle of a tour of duty with the air force," I explain hesitatingly. "He's flying fighter planes on missions over Iraq."

My admission is met with stunned silence.

Seraphina finds her voice first. "He's… fighting in a war?"

"A sort of war," I mumble, though quite why that would be of any relevance, I don't know myself.

"That certainly explains why he isn't here today," Nia remarks, raising both eyebrows as high as they will go.

Di, however, doesn't look at all placated. "How did we not know this?"

I press my lips together for a second or two. "It's a security thing. I mean, it's not that anyone thinks you will tell it to the press or something, but… it's incredibly sensitive information. They're doing all they can to keep the world in the dark until he's safely returned."

(In fact, for a brief moment, Oliver even seemed to hint that I should put pressure on Di to make her postpone her wedding, because me appearing at said wedding unaccompanied will set tongue wagging, no matter who she marries. Fortunately, even Oliver himself seemed to know how ludicrous that request was and when I gave him a look, he quickly changed the subject.)

"That kind of makes sense, but… wow," Seraphina breathes.

Yeah.

"That's one hell of a secret. How long have you had to keep this quiet?" Di wants to know, narrowing her eyes slightly.

I shake my head. "It doesn't matter."

She arches one eyebrow. "It doesn't matter?"

"No, it doesn't matter," I repeat. "Because today is your day and I shall be damned if I do anything to change that. I'm deeply sorry about those reporters and you must believe that if I could make them go away, I would. I can't, but I would."

I look first at Di then at Nia, hoping my expression conveys how truly awful I feel about it. It seems to be the case, because after exchanging a short glance, they both nod.

"I'm also truly sorry Ken isn't here and I hope dearly his absence won't lead to anyone saying or writing something to hurt you," I continue, speaking to them both. "But the truth is I have no more power to change any of that than you do. I can only tell you that I'm very, very sorry and ask you to please forgive me for ruining your wedding day."

"It's not ruined. We won't allow any of that to ruin it," decides Nia, her mouth set in determination.

"We won't," agrees Di with a firm nod.

Behind me, Seraphina squeals softly.

I close my eyes briefly. When I open them again, I look at all three of them gratefully. "Thank you."

"Nevermind." Nia gruffly brushes my words aside. "It's how it is. And it's also getting late, so we should probably go and get ready if there is to be a wedding at all today."

"Great idea!" agrees Seraphina brightly, quite as if this was an absolutely ground-breaking suggestion.

Di, however, continues to look at me closely. "But –"

I shake my head to interrupt. "Your day," I remind her. "I'm okay."

She doesn't look like she believes me – and neither do Nia and Seraphina – but when I meet her gaze unflinchingly, she inclines her head very slightly and drops the subject.

"Excellent!" declares Seraphina and even claps her hands once. "Now, let's get ready. We have a wedding to celebrate!"

And celebrate it we do. It's a small and intimate wedding, just as Di and Nia wanted it, but it's beautiful and they're so obviously in love that not one soul remains untouched. Despite its less than perfect beginning, it couldn't have been a more perfect day and as such, it's just what I wished for my sister and friend to have.

It is their day, too, and if I feel a twinge of wistfulness at times, I make sure not to let it show. It's only after we've waved off Nia and Di to their honeymoon in the evening that I allow myself to withdraw from the ongoing celebration, claiming tiredness and blaming it on the jetlag.

Everyone buys it, or so I think – until there's a knock on the door, just as I finish getting ready for bed. Expecting Seraphina, I pat over to the door, open it and find myself face-to-face with my mother.

"Mum?" I ask, puzzled. "Is everything okay?"

"You tell me," replies Mum with a soft smile.

I shrug, evading the question. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you down there with the others?"

"Di sent me," Mum answers plainly. "She didn't offer any details, but before she left, she asked me to talk to you. And here I am."

Here she is, indeed.

"What about Seraphina?" I ask, more to buy time than anything else.

Mum laughs. "Last time I saw her, she'd teamed up with Kylie to try and teach Shirley how to rumba."

I blink. "Shirley? Rumba?"

"Keyword being 'try'," deadpans Mum.

Laughing despite myself, I take a step back to let Mum into the room. She follows me inside and closes the door, all the while doing her best to ignore the mess Seraphina and I made earlier when getting ready.

"How do we like Kylie?" I ask, as I quickly collect some clothes that are strewn on the floor. "I haven't really gotten a chance to talk to her yet."

"Not for lack of trying on her part," Mum points out. "She tried to strike up a conversation with you several times today."

I frown and look up at her. "Really?"

"Really." Mum nods.

"Ah, drat. Remind me to apologise to her tomorrow. I didn't mean to snub her. I guess I'm just…" I pause, searching for words. "I'm just feeling out of sorts today."

"That's why I'm here," Mum informs me briskly. She walks over to the bed, gets in and holds up the covers for me.

For a moment, I stare at her (I can't remember the last time I snuggled up in bed with Mum), but then there's a sudden desire to be comforted and I give into it, crawling under the covers and curling up beside Mum, my head pillowed on her shoulder. She reaches up to switch off the overhead light, before putting an arm around me and pulling me closer, one hand stroking my hair.

Long seconds pass in silence and I just think I might get away, when Mum asks, "Rilla… where is Ken?"

I manage a breathy, unconvincing laugh. "Everyone keeps asking me that today."

"That's because everyone is wondering about it," Mum counters, not to be deterred.

"He's busy with his duties," I recount the official lie. "He would have loved to have been here, but he can't always plan these things."

"I always thought that on the contrary, the royals' life was planned to the last minute," Mum remarks, her casual tone belying how alert I know she is.

She's not wrong either. I've never met people with lives so thoroughly planned as the British royals. Not that I can admit that, of course.

When I don't answer, Mum continues, "Busy or not, I've met the man and I know he would have made a point to be here, for your sake if for no other reason. So, I'm asking again where he is and this time, I'd like to hear the truth."

Her voice is all authoritarian in a way I'm sure she hasn't had reason to speak in years. It immediately reminds me of old childhood discussions about who'd clean the dishwasher and who'd hidden Nan's favourite pink bobble tie.

I'd lie if I claimed the tone doesn't work on me, but still, I hesitate. When Mum speaks again, it's much softer, "Tell me, darling. I promise it'll be alright."

If only she could make it so.

"Did you two fight?" Mum asks when I still don't speak.

It's a question that should be much easier to answer than it is.

"I don't know," I admit after a moment. "Sort of, I guess?"

Mum makes a sympathetic sound. "Did you break up?"

I sigh heavily. "No. Not really."

"Not really," repeats Mum slowly. "That doesn't sound very encouraging."

"Doesn't feel very encouraging either," I admit.

She briefly moves her hand to rub my shoulder comfortingly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I… I'm not sure?" It comes out as more of a question.

"What's holding you back?" Mum wants to know. "Do you not want to or did someone tell you not to?"

Good to see she's still as annoyingly perceptive as ever.

"It's complicated," I answer with yet another sigh.

"Then lets unravel it," Mum suggests practically. "First of all, where is that boyfriend of yours?"

I hesitate, snuggling closer and breathing in Mum's comforting Mum scent. Finally, I mumble, "Cyprus."

"Cyprus?" Mum sounds understandably puzzled. "The island?"

"The island," I confirm. "The British have an air force base there and…" I trail off.

"He's there getting more training?" asks Mum, but there's a strange note in her voice that tells me she has a feeling that that's not the case.

"Not quite," I reply and it's equal parts weary and bitter.

Mum hums thoughtfully and I know she's putting two and two together. "He's flying missions," she deduces.

"Over Iraq," I add.

"Well." I know her mind is going a mile a minute, but outwardly, she's not giving anything away. "Well."

I lie still, concentrating on keeping my breathing even, my focus on her hand gently stroking my hair.

"When did he leave?" she settles on asking after several moments.

"February," I reply quietly.

Mum draws in a sharp breath. "And you've been keeping this to yourself ever since?"

I shrug, knowing she can feel it.

"Did Ken tell you to keep it a secret? Did his parents?" she wants to know.

"No-o," I draw out the word. "Ken and I didn't actually talk much about the logistics, and as for his parents… Leslie didn't take him leaving very well. I didn't see her at all for weeks and when she finally returned to London, I didn't want to upset her by talking about Ken. I suppose I could have talked to Owen and he did ask whether I was okay, but… I guess I didn't see any benefit in talking the subject to death."

Mum clucks her tongue and I know she disagrees. Instead of arguing the point though, she continues her previous line of questioning. "Who told you to keep quiet about it if not the royals?"

"It wasn't so much that anyone told me," I answer slowly. "I kind of knew instinctively that talking about it wouldn't do. And Ken's private secretary did explain the importance of keeping it a secret, for Ken's security and that of his fellow soldiers. If news about him being in Cyprus gets out, all pilots will be even more of a target than they already are."

"But why keep it from us?" Mum asks, genuinely puzzled. "You know you can trust us. I mean, you do know that, don't you?"

"Of course!" I reassure her quickly. "It's just… I guess there was a sense that if fewer people knew, there'd be less of a risk of it getting out accidentally. Plus… I mean, I know that basically everyone in this family disapproves of Ken's military career."

Mum sighs. "Oh, sweetie. Just because we take a critical stand when it comes to war doesn't mean you can't come to us for support when your boyfriend is off fighting. We might not agree with his decision, but we're always here for you. This can't be easy for you."

I take a deep breath and blink rapidly to force back the tears. "It isn't."

There's a moment of silence as Mum presses a kiss to the crown of my hair, her arm holding me close. I turn my face into her shoulder and focus on my own breaths. In, out, in, out, in, out.

"How does it make you feel?" Mum asks carefully.

How does it make me feel, indeed.

"I miss him," I admit, my voice muffled and my face still hidden. "I miss him awfully, but at the same time, I'm angry at him. I thought it would pass, the anger, but it didn't. I can ignore it when I'm just going about my life, but…"

"But?" Mum prompts gently when I break off.

"But when I talk to him, it all bubbles up," I continue after a short pause, turning my head slightly for better air. "He can't call often and when he does, I always promise myself I'll be supportive and nice, but then it happens and… I hear his voice and there's all this resentment. I can't tell him that, of course, so I become all snappy and short-tempered with him. And when the call is over, I feel like the worst person in the entire world."

"You blame him for leaving you," Mum states simply.

I nod against her shoulder. "I do. I'm angry at him for leaving and yes, I blame him. I blame him for making that decision without even consulting me and I blame him for leaving me in limbo like this. Sometimes, it feels like all I ever do is wait for him and I just don't know… I mean, that shouldn't be okay, right?"

"He was wrong to leave you and he is wrong to make you wait," Mum remarks and I love her for how sure she sounds.

"It would be easier if I didn't miss him so," I admit after a moment. "I'm angry but that doesn't mean I suddenly stopped loving him. I love him and I miss him and sometimes, I get so mad at myself for it."

"Would you rather not love him anymore?" asks Mum and her voice is all alert.

Another one of these questions that should be easy and aren't.

There are several moments of silence as I try out different possible answers, before finally settling on, "My life would be easier if I didn't."

Mum makes a thoughtful sound that is neither denial nor confirmation. Her fingers have started massaging my scalp and there's something so comforting about that gesture that I think I might cry.

Swallowing a sob that threatens to rise in my throat, I admit quietly, "I worry, too."

"Of course you do," Mum replies and again, there's no doubt in her voice.

"I don't want to worry," I continue, barely able to hold back the angry tears threatening to spill. "I try not to think about where he is and what he does, but it's always there, somewhere in my mind. And when I stop concentrating and stop controlling where my thoughts go, it's inevitably where I end up and I start imagining things. I imagine something hitting his plane and it catching fire and going down and him not being able to get out… or him getting out and being captured and held hostage and…" My voice breaks.

Mum hugs me close for a moment. "Oh, darling," she murmurs. "Oh, my darling."

I allow her to hold me, but furiously fight the tears wanting to fall. I will not cry! I will not!

"I miss him. I miss him and I worry like crazy." My voice is strained from the effort of keeping it calm. "But at the same time, there are also moments when…" I take a deep breath. "There are moments when I wonder why I even care."


The title of this chapter is taken from the song 'I Want It All' (written by Brian May, released by Queen in 1989).


To Rach H:
Oh, yes. Sometimes, a filler chapter is perfectly fine - I mean, otherwise, they wouldn't exist. I was just amused by myself thinking there was this
very important thing happening and no-one else really understanding it ;). Not understanding it yet, I should say, because I hope with time, it will all become even clearer.
I meant for Rilla and Sam to develop a nice friendship and for it to be apparent in the last chapter, so I'm glad that worked. The way I see it, Sam comes into Rilla's life with a fresh perspective and is therefore able to see and voice thoughts that neither her more established friends nor her family tell her so forthrightly. Sam still knows what it's like to look at the prince's girlfriend from the outside, so he can relate to what the general publics thinks about her, while the two prior months gave him a decent insight into how Rilla's head works. That said, Rilla also has some sound advice for him and that's to be careful what you wish for when it comes to fame. She's better about taking his advice than he is about taking hers, but time will prove her right, too.
As you said, Rilla's age is kind of an important factor in this story. She met Ken when she was 21 and is just about to turn 26 now, which really isn't as grown-up as she'd like to believe. In the early twenties especially, she thought she had it all figured out, but I think it's part and parcel of really growing up to step back and examine your life sometimes. That's what she's doing now and it's much needed, too, because otherwise, it would be too easy for her to get caught up in all this and never ask herself if this is what she wants - or not ask it until too late.
I didn't spell out the contents of that roll-up because I didn't want to offend anyone, but to me, there's cannabis in there. It wouldn't have been her first time dabbling in it recreationally (and we already touched at the subject with Shirley), but you're correct to say that the stakes are much higher now. No-one cared much what little Rilla Blythe from PEI did, but the girl dating a future king... well, if anyone finds out, there'll be backlash for sure. Let's hope no-one does!
No royals in this chapter, as you see, but the next couple of chapters have all kinds of different royals, so stay tuned =).