The Royal Scandal | Prince William |

What's in Your Head?

Novemebr 3, 2012

Midnight comes and goes like a flickering breeze, the hands of the clock converging together before the long one moves on. Jaclyn barely notices. She sees the ink black darkness out the cottage windows, but doesn't process how late the night has grown.

Not while her pencil flies with words and her eyes can't be pulled away from the research on her laptop screen. Her search history is overflowing with sports medicine studies, and she writes names down of people who she may need to contact in the future.

Weight training, pilates, gyrotonics, physiotherapy, etc. the answers to the problem are all there and ready to be used, she just has to harness them.

She sighs, falling back in her chair to observe the drafted plan laid out across her notebook. It's rudimentary, but it's enough to make her smile. The layout of a health program for dancers is in her hands, created from testimonials of the people she danced with throughout the years, and based entirely on their needs. She's broken down costs, made a list of donors, and figured out how much she can donate without leaving her other charities high and dry.

"Okay," she exhales, hands clutching the notebook so the spiral cuts into her palm. "Now what am I going to do with you?" Because it's a plan, but it's nothing solid like The Prince's Trust or The Duke of Edinburgh Award. Even their private secretary Jamie, who's always supportive of her ideas, smiles tightly when he sees her working on her "project" as if he doesn't think much of it. Or perhaps he thinks it'll come to nothing in the end.

The baby quickens within her stomach, moving so there's a soft jab across her swollen abdomen. "You think I'm being silly, don't you?" she asks her belly, both hands settling over the spot where the little thing kicked her seconds ago. Like responding the baby kicks again, and despite knowing she's going to be in astronomical pain later she can't help but smile now.

"Well I'll take that as a yes. If I trust anyone's opinion it's yours." A yawn escapes from her lips, a sign that it's time to call it a night, but the possibilities turn to anxiety and excitement in her head so her eyes won't close. She needs to schedule a meeting with RBC, but that's simply something she can do after midnight.

-----

November 11, 2012

"And here are your grandma shoes." Kate hands her the pair of kitten heels with a self satisfied smirk, and Jaclyn glowers at her as she snaps the black coat dress closed. "Leave my grandma shoes alone. I would like to minimize the risk of subluxing as much as I can, thank you very much."

Kate smirks coming up to her to pin on the red poppy pin as Jaclyn slips on the heels that are dropped at her feet. She goes through a mental checklist, touching her hat, each pearl earring, her gloves and pin just to make sure everything is there.

Remembrance Day is one of those days she can't afford to mess up. The second Sunday of November is the end of a four day period where the entire nation comes together to honor those who lost their lives in service since World War I. The day commemorates the signing of the Armistice Agreement on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, and the royals are completely embedded in the traditions.

The Queen takes it all very seriously, and it's a set of days where the press are on high alert for screw ups and scandals to report.

Jaclyn turns to go find William when a hand locks around her wrist pulling her back around. Kate doesn't drop her hand even when it's clear she's not going anywhere, and Jaclyn shifts Kate's grip so she's squeezing her hand instead of her wrist.

"I need to tell you something," she murmurs. Undeniably she's happy, her smile gives that away easily, but Jaclyn sees the clear exhaustion coloring darkly under her eyes, and feels the tension in her fingers that hold tightly onto her own.