Not a Typical Princess (Princess Diana's Daughter)

Chapter 9: Fix It

When Gwen returned to her flat in Scotland, Margo was waiting on the front stoop of the building. She had been plastered with rain, and her body was soaked. Thankfully, she didn't end up getting sick from this. Margo had been waiting, knowing her girlfriend had to return, knowing her girlfriend would be upset when she returned. Gwendoline, holding both of her bags, asked, "Are you upset with me?"

"No." Margo took one of Gwen's bags, and they went upstairs together. In the flat, Margo changed into dry clothes while Gwen put on a pot of coffee.

"Are you sure you're not upset with me?" Gwen leaned against the doorway and watched her girlfriend change. They had both seen each other naked on numerous occasions, and this was no different.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"No." Margo put on a t-shirt. "I'm not upset about what you did because what you did was a completely badass thing. You told them cunts off, and they deserved it. Everyone has been saying it. Everyone knows it."

"Then why are you upset?" Gwen asked.

"It's not you."

"Of course, it's me."

"When you're with me," Margo stated, "not when you're royal."

"What?" Gwen asked. "Are you jealous that I acted that way toward another? Like somehow people know who I really am? Are you giving me advice on how to be royal?"

"No, of course not," Margo argued. "It's just not you to the rest of the world. Royals are expected to be a certain way, and you're not acting like that way right now."

"Do you have a problem with that?" Gwen asked, sadness in her eyes.

Margo rushed over to her girlfriend, pulling her face down to look her in the eyes. "Of course not, Gwen. I love you-- for every part of you. No matter what," she promised. "But I can't shake the feeling that something is different. You're acting different."

"Why shouldn't I act differently?" Gwen asked. "I have been through a lot."

"I know." Margo only could know, never understand. "I know, and I am not disagreeing with that. Tell me what you are feeling, Gwen."

"I feel invincible," Gwen stated, and Margo's eyes grew wide and her mouth opened. "I feel invincible," Gwen repeated, stronger this time. "Ever since that night, I have felt invincible. People tell me I should be scared and I should feel bad, but I don't. I feel like I could do it again and again." She paused, taking a deep breath. "Also, I feel like I can take on the world. I see a problem, and I want to fix it. I know I can fix it."

Margo watched her girlfriend. "Okay, but how are you going to do that?"

"I am royal. I have the world at my fingertips; I just need to grasp it." Gwen studied Margo's face. "You don't feel the same way."

"Of course, I do, Gwen. I feel the same way-- I just don't know how."

Gwen's fingers slipped through Margo's blonde hair. "The private secretary said I am a lot like my mum-- Diana, not Camilla. He meant it as a warning. Diana is a warning of what happens when you're different in the monarchy. For every good thing, there is something horrible that follows."

"And you want to be like her?"

"Maybe it won't happen that way."

"Maybe it will." Margo squeezed her girlfriend's hands; they were still cold. "Gwen, I can't lose you, and I am scared what will come next with this. Please, let's just forget it. They want you to take a break, so take the summer off. A month ago, you were saying that you wanted the summer off-- that the paparazzi was following you too much-- that Charles wanted you to be something that you're not," she listed. "Let's just take the summer off. We'll regroup." Margo touched Gwen's face slightly. "Okay?"

Gwen took a deep breath. "Okay."

"Great." Margo kissed Gwen's cheek. "Now, let's go to bed. It's late."

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That night, Princess Gwendoline had a hard time going to sleep. Even as Margo fell fast asleep beside her, chest rising and falling evenly, Gwendoline did not. Her mind raced, along with her heart. It wasn't just the events over the two days or even the events over the last month, but she thought of her whole life.

That back and forth she felt, it came from a fear that she wasn't ever going to be good enough. Ever since she was born, she tried to be good enough as a princess while keeping some of herself intact. She tried to be good enough as the daughter of the late and great Princess Diana, but every turn she took, she was told that she wasn't. She tried to be a great daughter to her father, yet the rumors still swirled about who her real father was. The monarchy was never going to come out and admit that they did a DNA test, like they somehow didn't trust Diana enough.

All of this was because she was so much like her mother, and it all came naturally. Gwendoline didn't strive to a copy of her mother, yet her mother flowed through her veins, creating this-- who she was today. On the other hand, she was a product of the monarchy, years of traditions and ways of thinking. She worked tirelessly to be the kind of princess they wanted. It was never enough. She was never enough.

Gwendoline continued to stare at the ceiling, unsure how to get out of the hole that she put herself in. In many ways, she was being taken off the roster. It was going to be obvious after the stunt she pulled two days ago. However, if she somehow got herself back on there, then she could make amends or even do better.

When she was a child, she remembered how her father and brothers used to talk about Princess Margaret. When Margaret died, Gwendoline was just a child thus she couldn't remember much of her great aunt. Margaret and Diana did not get along, which was always odd to Gwendoline for how alike they were. Both rebelled in many of the same ways; both were great beauties; both were lost too young. In many ways, Gwendoline was like both of them, and she wasn't sure how much she wanted that. Yes, they were remembered, but how?

Gwendoline tossed to the other side, finding her thoughts too hard for such a long weekend. Sitting up, in the dim light, Gwen glanced at Margo. When Margo didn't stir, Gwendoline left the bed. After changing in the bathroom, Gwendoline headed out into the night.

Just down the street from their flat was a club gym, and she escaped inside. With no one around, Gwendoline was thankful for the break. After turning up the music loud, the building began to shake. Pulling out her boxing gloves, the princess put them on and started her round with the hanging, red punching bag. It was much easier when something couldn't fight back.

She didn't pull her punches, even as she felt her back starting to rip open again. It started to scream in a pain, and a growl escaped her own lips. She threw her fists harder. She kicked and kicked. The punching bag came swinging back. Gwendoline punched again and again. No damage came to the punching bag.

Grabbing a hold of it, Gwendoline placed her head to the cool mat, feeling herself working too hard. While her thoughts had numbed a little, they weren't gone. There was no easy solution to this. Gwendoline hated it. After a moment pause, she went at again, harder this time. Blood dripped down her back, and she just wanted to ignore all of it. In the end, she couldn't.