The Royal Scandal | Prince William |

Wedding Bells

The faces of the women relatives morphed into understanding, and Jaclyn could not decipher if they were honest or not.

Charlotte laughed, "Well if he's at the church then I hope no ones bothering him too much."

"Oh, William can handle himself," Alice added, gesturing for everyone to get back to work. With everything settled, Charlotte found her hands back soothing Jacklyns thick hair.

-----

The car stopped outside the church, and Jaclyn's trained eyes scoped the road as Charlotte bounded out into the sun. Just her luck two photographers were hidden within the spaces between the sandy architecture. They  couldn't come any closer, Alice and Victor were private citizens, but from that distance Jaclyn was free game.

Her eyes clenched and her hands clasped as her lungs swelled with one, two, three soothing breaths. She knew she looked great. No one could push classless on her today. Today she breathed life back into the style of old royalty. Nothing too glittery or flashy, simple and sophisticated. Her skin was porcelain and her face was fresh with neutral colors. Her blue eyes the sky to the greenland color of her dress.

Jaclyn slid from the car. Knees pressed together the way she had practiced with Lady Mountbatten. A click bounced off the old stone walls and peaceful silence of the wedding site. As of right now Charlotte and her were the only ones outside. All the other guests were seated, and Alice and her father were in the car pulling up down the street.

Her gaze traced up the cathedral, something tranquil flushing out the concern for how she looked. She felt refurbished, the french woman in her that had grown from her eighteen year old self awakening to cause havoc.

As Alice and her father stepped out of the black station wagon Charlotte pushed the wood doors open to start her trek up the aisle, and the bit of music washed out and washed away as the doors closed again. 

As her hand took hold of the thick metal handle, another squeezed her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Lord, Alice, you're the one getting maried not me."

"I know, but I've never felt better." Jaclyn turned her eyes falling into the warmth that is Alice, and with her father waiting patiently, they embraced briefly. The last bit of wariness resolved upon the chill in the church brushing her skin. Amongst the familiar and fading faces one stood out. Four rows from the front, fifteen steps into her walk, was William. 

All these people saw her. They saw the pretty girl done up to perfection. The sleek golden hair, the porcelain glowing skin, the bright eyes that shined under the brim of her hat.

But William had always seen her.

From that first second.

-----

There would never come a day where Jaclyn would cease to amaze him. The two of them mingled about the veranda that overlooks the small city where Victor grew up on the outskirts of Paris. Their arms are linked together, and with Alice and Victor gone for the cocktail hour the next couple everyone wanted to obsess over was them.

Jaclyn handled the attention like a pro. Paying equal attention to everyone, with a never faltering smile, and her words of beautiful french were soft and easy. While William knew french he wasn't nearly as fluent in it as some of the other languages he knew, so whenever he got behind in a conversation she'd smile teasingly as if happy she knew something he didn't.