The Royal Scandal | Prince William |

Pretty Pretty Girl

Natania is still watching her, patiently waiting for an answer, but the truth is so complex.

"I'm better," is what Jaclyn settles for, and it's not false. The morning sickness, that was all day sickness, went away towards the beginning of the week, and slowly her body was starting to crave things. At the same time her joints were loosening, becoming floppy in their sockets.

Walking proved to be a chore some days with her muscles trembling to try and stabilize her, but she held on. She danced through eight shows a week, hours of rehearsals, and more all while unaware of her condition. She could walk and be just fine.

Natania's glare is scrutinizing, aware of her lie but unable to say anything to make it better.

"So," Thomas pipes up, "We should go to the National Portrait Gallery and take a selfie with your portrait." His smile grows mischievous and Jaclyn burrows into her arms to hide the flaming color spreading over her cheeks. "Or maybe we shouldn't," her voice squeaks out.

It was a nice painting, a lovely painting, but seeing it once was enough. She didn't need to go again and she definitely didn't want Thomas going and making a spectacle. "I honestly don't understand why everyone's so bothered by it. It looks like you, isn't that all that matters?" Natania asks.

Jaclyn shakes her head, unable to say anything, because the criticism confuses her as well. What did people mean by the fact that she looked too pretty in the painting? Was that bad or a compliment? Personally, she couldn't look at the woman made of delicate brush strokes and see herself, but that didn't take away from the beauty of it.

Maybe it's because the press has never portrayed her as a pretty girl with her American features. Her features to large, her arms too scrawny, her legs to muscular. It was always something. She wasn't a rose like Kate with soft ethereal beauty, but more an obscure flower with a unique beauty. So if people were saying the portrait was too pretty then clearly it wasn't her.

"Okay, back to work," she laughs, swatting at Thomas calf that's thrown lackadaisically in front of her. She pushes up into another plank, starting off with her knees kissing the floor with her core engaged. All while mantras run through her head

You're a pretty girl...

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October 22, 2012

Her spoon stirs around the bowl of water, ice and frozen fruit, munching away happily despite her husband's concerned looks from across the room. Jaclyn sticks her tongue out at him, her head turned awkwardly so she doesn't drop her phone while she's eating.

"Sorry mum, Will's just judging my first pregnancy craving," she explains, laughing softly through her spoonfuls of sweetness as William rolls his eyes from where he's sitting at the dining room table. "I can't say anything, I'm just happy you're finally able to keep food down," he mumbles reading over the paper, squinting to see around the sun that shines through the double doors.

Her mom is laughing too, but Jaclyn doubts she can hear him. Most likely she's laughing over her own cravings. "I do have to say ice cereal with frozen fruit is a new one."

"It has to be a specific kind of ice, like the kind you find at hospitals."

"Hospitals?"