Clara Spencer

Chapter 12

Edited by SayWatt74

I recommend listening to the music as it sets the mood :)

It was time.

Clara watched the intricate black gates and the gilded Royal crest pass by as the car rolled forward.

When she'd woken up that morning, Harry had called to let her know of the plan to smuggle her in to meet the Queen. They had to proceed with the "utmost secrecy," he said. She was prepared to wear a disguise and even don the old wig she used to trick the Spencers not so long ago. However, she hadn't predicted that she would need to impersonate the Prime Minister's private secretary.

Of course the Prime Minister knew who she was; the charade was meant for the palace staff and more importantly, for the media. It was hard to recognize Clara in her wig and colored contacts, so she doubted the staff would be suspicious. Arriving with the Prime Minister would also deter the media, making them believe she was merely a private secretary escorting her boss to her weekly meeting with the Queen.

Thus, Clara found herself riding in the same car as Theresa May.

"Nervous?" Clara blinked out of her daze and turned away from the window to face the British Prime Minister.

"A bit," Clara lied. She was unimaginably nervous, requiring all her control to resist biting her nails.

Theresa gave her a small smile, "You just need to distract your mind then." She inclined her head towards Clara, arching her brow. "Tell me, darling, did you vote in the last election?"

Clara nodded timidly. "Yes, I did."

"And who did you vote for as Prime Minister?" Theresa inquired. Clara was taken aback by her bluntness and hesitated for a moment.

"Well, If you want to know if I voted for you, I'm afraid you won't like the answer because I didn't." She took a breath and continued, "With all due respect, I don't exactly approve of your plans with Brexit. I think leaving the EU will have devastating consequences for the country and ultimately its people. The plan that you have, I don't think it's necessarily thought out."

Clara lowered her eyes to avoid the Prime Minister's piercing gaze, fiddling with her hands. The tension was thick in the air, and the only thing that could be heard was the car's humming engine.

"Well, my girl. There's a lot of things you don't necessarily understand, and I don't expect you to, seeing as you're not a politician," the Prime Minister explained condescendingly. "I'll give you a piece of advice, though." The icy glint in her eyes belied her friendly tone. "If you become a member of the Royal Family, you'll need to learn to keep your opinion to yourself. Especially regarding politics. Not only will your opinion not matter, but a Royal must never show bias in politics."

"But you aske–"

"It doesn't matter if I asked." Theresa rolled her eyes, "Everybody will ask your opinion on things. In the end, it falls unto you, to hold your tongue."

Clara was left speechless, and before she could answer, the car came to a stop. As the palace staff swooped down to open their doors, Clara's eyes couldn't help but roam up to the majestic palace itself. With its limestone walls, detailed stone engravings, and neoclassical architecture, it was a work of beauty. Yet, for Clara, Buckingham Palace with its surrounding sinister clouds only served to intimidate her.

Theresa promptly exited the vehicle without sparing a glance for her supposed secretary, leaving Clara to quickly scramble out behind her. It wouldn't do to fumble things now.

The plush red carpeting muffled her steps as she stepped inside. Awe filled Clara as she observed the lavish decor surrounding her. Climbing up a set of stairs, she couldn't help but run her fingers along the polished wood banisters with their golden accents. The chandeliers shone so brightly that light reflected off the beautiful white walls. They passed rooms and hallways with so many decorative pieces and intricate paintings that she wished she could stop and admire them all.