The Royal Scandal | Prince William |

Doing Good

They don't dwell on the story after that, but the others more easily open up. The woman next to her lost her husband to a drug overdose, and now the same people who got him addicted are preying on her teenage son. The man next to her is raising his three kids by himself while his wife is in jail, and every story somehow cuts deeper and deeper until she's on the brink of sobbing.

They can all see it in her. She can school and sculpt her expression as much as she likes, but her eyes betray her every thought. But Jaclyn refuses to cry, refuses to put that on them because the last thing they deserve is comfort her.

Leaving the room for the nursery is almost a relief, and the parents with kids that age follow her, explaining some of the programs they participate in. Usually it functions like a daycare, but other times there are special events to attend.

"Children this is the Duchess of Cambridge, she's going to join us for arts and crafts today." The cheery, teddy shaped woman who's watching the kids announces her entrance into the classroom like it's the most grandeur thing. Most of the kids look up, blink and return to coloring. Jaclyn immerses herself into their world instead of pandering to the thought of forcing them into hers.

Silently she's given a piece of paper and an assortment of brightly colored crayons, and none of them go together, but for the most part the kids go about their business as everything is completely normal. It's one of the reasons she loves events with kids so much. The bowing and scraping is limited, no falsities to their actions, and nothing she needs to prove. They can color and it's enough.

"How's Princess Amelia?" One of the girls asks. She's the oldest of the kids, bent over on her knees because she's too lanky for the chairs. Jaclyn looks up from the blue flower with a yellow center and pink leaves that she's drawing so she can look the girl in the eyes and give her a smile. "She's doing well, so is Phillip. They're both going to be really jealous when I tell them what I did today."

"Is that from Star Wars?" Another boy asks, pointing to the gold necklace she's wearing. Before his mum can pull his outreached hand back Jaclyn leans closer and allows him to caress the smooth engravings of the japor snippet.

Soon all kids want to take turns touching the copy of the necklace Anakin gave to Padmé in The Phantom Menace. "William got it for me," she explains, now holding it preciously herself, "I think it's my personal good luck charm."

"Who's your favorite Star Wars character?"

"Obviously, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

While The kids giggle the parents from the roundtable whisper around the room, some still shooting her apprehensive glances from over their hands, while others let out heavy breaths and fall back into chairs happily. The cameras are still schooled on her, and every time she catches one of their eyes she clenches until the triumphant swell from earlier settles. 

A few years ago she wouldn't have been able to do that, but her reputation precedes her and no one sees her as a threat anymore. 

-----

It's late when he gets back home. So late most of KP has gone dark and the halls lurk in silence. The sky is pitch outside, but clear so the full moon glows through each window he passes.

William doesn't know what he expects to find at this point when he comes home, but finding Jaclyn, Amelia, and Philip all crammed into one tiny bed shouldn't be surprising. Jaclyn's back is awkwardly slouched against the headboard of Mia's bed, both of her arms open so each kid can cuddle into her sides. PJ is clinging to her like a koala, but Mia has rolled and is practically hanging off the bed.

It's easy to breathe calmly again being back with them, the stress of his job falling from his shoulders. The faces of the people they help follow him home, the voices from their families circling his head, but being back with his allows his mind to set it all aside.

He moves PJ first, his son easily letting go of Jaclyn so he can wrap his arms around William's neck instead. William stands like that, supporting the little boy who's so quickly growing, and not for the first time he wants to rewind the clock. Back to when he held him for the first time, or watched him toddle on little legs.

When he's finally in his own bed William slowly shifts Amelia back onto hers, leaning over to kiss her head without waking her up. The attempt is futile, just as he's about to pull away she leans up and pecks his cheek. "Told you," she whispers through a yawn. Her grin is satisfied as she curls back into her pillow, her eyes never truly open, and just as he realizes she's awake she's asleep again.

He turns the TV off, silencing the end credits of A New Hope that they must've all dozed off to. The hardest part is Jaclyn, who's like a sack of potatoes when asleep despite her small stature. He scoops her up under her knees sighing as she nuzzles sleepily into his shoulder just like PJ did.

A lingering maid coos as he turns the corner to their bedroom, and he can only imagine how they look. His uniform is still on, and Jaclyn is balled up tightly in her sweats and messy hair, but William's focused entirely on not dropping his wife who refuses to stir. Even in her sleep she trusts him entirely.

It's only when he's carefully pulled the comforter over her that her eyes squint at him. "Will? Is that you?" He must appear to be nothing more than a hovering shadow, but still she reaches up towards him. There's a haze in her eyes, the whites barely visible as they fall and open, but her fingers are alive as she touches his cheek. "It's me darling. Go back to sleep."

She hums as he kisses her forehead, easily collapsing into their pillows, and he pulls away just in time for his phone to start ringing. It's a frantic moment of him searching his numerous pockets to silence it before the spell holding his wife breaks, but he answers without her even stirring.

"Hello?" 

"Your Royal Highness..." The news shared with him from Buckingham is so random, so painfully cruel, that he gapes in the darkness surrounding him. He looks to Jaclyn again, half her face smashed into the pillow she's squeezing the life out of, and he tries to find solace in the peace she's in.

It's a futile attempt.

A part of him doesn't want to beleive the poor man delivering the news, but another part of him is sadly not surprised.

"Can you repeat that? What's happend in Manchester?"

-----

I apologize for the long break, life got randomly crazy with my intensive and my three summer courses, but to make it up in planning on doing another update this weekend so keep your eyes peeled.

In other news I know this isn't my best work, but I'm in a weird funk where I don't like anything. The usual I suppose, but it just feels like a lot of this is a filler...

I don't know, let me know what you guys think!!!