The Prince's Secret (Prince Harry Fanfic)

Part 80 - The Queen, A Duchess, and Tea

Samantha

We got Drizzle back to the stables and turned her over to a wary groom who kept his distance as he led her away. I knocked the stable dirt out of the treads of my paddock boots and we headed up to Windsor Castle.

Once there Harry showed me into a large washroom, complete with a dressing room to the side. He leaned against the sink giving me pointers while I "freshened up."

"Better make a date to spend the afternoon with Eugenie learning the finer points of protocol but here are the basics. The Queen speaks first. The Queen decides the subject of conversation and when to change it. The Queen eats first. You've already met her once, so you don't need to curtsy again. Call her Ma'am. If we meet anyone else who outranks you—which, since we're not officially married, is everyone in the family—curtsy."

"I don't even know how to curtsy properly," I groaned. "Men have it easy—you just bow your head."

Harry laughed. "Okay. Well, it's like this: Look down. Left foot behind the right. Dip down a bit—maybe halfway—and come up gracefully. Back straight. Knees forward. If the Queen extends her hand you can take it on the way back up."

He demonstrated, and I burst out laughing. "Nice form."

"Yeah, yeah." He pulled me to him for a quick kiss. "Let's see you try it. Remember, it shouldn't be any big sweeping deal. You're not a Texas debutante or anything like that. It should be understated but still gracious."

I followed his directions, but bobbled to the side as I came up, losing my balance. Harry caught my hand.

"You're not exactly wearing the best shoes for it," he said. "Paddock boots weren't designed for curtsying. But pretty good."

"Okay, okay." I said, shaking off his hand. "Lemme try again."

He laughed. "Ah, yes, that determination your dad was talking about! Well, go ahead."

I did the curtsy three more times. After the last one, Harry said, "Very good. Also, don't sit till the Queen sits, stand up if she stands up, and if she's done with tea, you are too."

"There's so much to remember," I groaned, pulling my flyaway hair into a neat braid.

"Anyone who can remember all the approaches and striding for a 36 jump hunter trial course can remember the protocol for meeting the Queen," he teased. "Pretty soon it will be second nature for you."

I pulled on my tweed hacking jacket, glad that Harry had been thoughtful enough to bring me a change of clothes. Turning around I asked, "Do I look okay? I'm not too horsey, am I?"

Now he stepped in for a full kiss, sliding his hands around my waist. "You look beautiful. And appropriately horsey for someone who met Her Majesty out riding. Come on. We'd better go."

"But what will I talk about with her?" I asked, as he guided me down a long, thick-carpeted hallway lined with paintings.

"Horses," he said with a laugh. "It's one of her favorite topics. I don't think you have to worry about being out of your depth in conversations about that."

I goggled a bit as Harry led me through corridors of unimaginable wealth. It seemed like everything was gilded or painted or dripping in crystals. I really wanted to stop and look at things, but Harry hurried me along, promising to bring me back for a real tour on a day when the Queen was away.