The Royal Scandal | Prince William |

Sins of the Father

November 20, 2010

William wrung his hands together, staring at the closed door of his father's office like it would open itself. For three days he came up to the door, lifted his fist to knock, then backed away. Which was ridiculous, this was his father who he loved unconditionally, but their past was riddled with turbulence.

First it was the divorce, then as he was adjusting the car crash happened, and that... Was a lot in one week. He remembered blaming his father, refusing to talk to him, pleading with anyone who would listen to not make him walk behind her casket. It was too much, to pace behind for miles and stare at the box that would enclose his mum for the rest of time. To Charles, to everyone really, that didn't matter. He had to walk as a visual reminder of Diana's legacy, to build sympathy for his family.

After it all though his dad was there. He stepped up, and raised Harry and him just as their mum would've wanted, but not even a year later he was forced to sit down with Camilla. She was kind enough, and the meeting was cordial, but nowhere in his heart did he want to meet her. Nor did he appreciate his father's press team leaking the story simply for the woman's publicity. The sooner everyone got over the last two decades the sooner they could get married, and being complicit felt like a betrayal to Diana.

Then Jaclyn came into his life, and threw in an extra wrench for good measure, but through it all he finally understood his father. There was always that inkling of fear of losing her, of being forced in a different direction. So he accepted Camilla. Not because he wanted to have something over his father's head, and not because he was willing to forget all that happened, but because it felt like the right thing to do.

He raised his fist and pounded on the door before he could run off again while his mind was semi preoccupied. The confrontation was long overdue, and he had good news to share. His father's command to enter set him moving again. Entering the office highlighted the rain, that was muffled throughout the rest of the palace. The windows were larger than in any other room, and they spied out right to the garden. More often than not if Charles wasn't working with the plants then he was sitting by the windows admiring them.

"How can I help you, William?" He asked from where he sat furiously writing. His glasses were nearly slipping off his nose, head bent over to reveal the perfect balding circle hiding amongst his snowy hair.

The small velvet box concealed within the inner pocket of his suit jacket felt impossibly heavy, and he patted the area just for reassurance. He sat down, hoping the noise would force his father to look up, this felt like something he should say with the man's eyes on him, but to no avail.

"I'm going to propose to Jaclyn," he said. The quick flicks of Charles' pen stopped, glasses finally sliding off his nose, and after a brief second he looked up.

"When?" He was unmoving, locked with disbelief, because wasn't it just last week that William swore he wasn't ready?

"I'm not sure, I wanted to talk to you first." His hand was clenched over the slight bulge in his suit pocket, and his mind relaxed each time he did so.

It's still there, you haven't lost it yet.

After a few nights of throwing ideas back and forth, mostly it was Jaclyn telling him what she would like to do, and he would come back with what they could do, he felt better about this next step. But...

There was still the issue. The one that's been collateral to his soul since he was a child, and burrowed into his mother's side and asked her what happened. As a kid it felt like both his parents lost their happiness when really Harry and he were simply protected from the truth.