Princess in Training (Prince Harry #3)

Chapter Four

If Meredith's life was busy enough, she forgot that she was also meant to be planning a wedding for autumn. At this point, Meredith didn't mind skipping the whole wedding and marrying now. That wasn't an option. It was necessary to have a big wedding at Saint Paul's Cathedral in London with many guests. Either way, she hoped she didn't trip on her dress.

Even with the little planning she had done so far for the ceremony and afterward, she found herself not caring as much. She wanted to care. However, she found the whole thing tedious. Meredith didn't care about the little details because she never thought she might ever marry a prince. All of this was important now, but at the wedding she thought she might have, it was quick and easy. Now that she had the money, she had the ability to do anything.

In the morning, Meredith sat at the kitchen table, which was covered in either newspapers with her face on the front or all the wedding books with things to look through. A wedding planner had been hired, giving her all the details necessary for the beginning, but there were so many choices.

Meredith ran a hand over her face and sighed. Harry's hair was going to clash with the autumn leaves, so she was unsure why autumn had been chosen. She knew winter was going to work, or at least that was what she was told. In truth, the monarchy wanted this done semi-quickly. "Within the year" was said, and Meredith didn't have a problem. October was nine months away.

Harry came downstairs after taking a shower. His hair was still damp. "Having fun?"

"No," Meredith growled, leaning back in her seat. "You choose."

Coming over, he looked at the open books. "What am I choosing?"

"Everything."

He laughed. "It's your wedding day too."

"You're more artistic than I am."

"What did you plan as a child?"

"Well, to be honest," Meredith straightened, "I hadn't given it much thought, nor did I care what kind of card stock the names were written upon or what the silverware looks like or the font size on the wedding invitations. Surprisingly."

Harry glanced over the different fonts. "What is the difference?"

"Point-five. Do we want to be centered, right beside each other or one on top of each other?"

"The last one sounds sexual."

Meredith rolled her eyes. "You see my problem. Don't I have anyone else to choose these things? I get the flowers and the dress. We have to choose where the important people sit. I get that. I know I have walk down the aisle when they say so. But this--" Meredith held up a whole book of fonts and sizes-- "I don't care. They're invitations, and as long as our names, date, time and place are on there, we should be good."

"You're forgetting you're royal now, Mere. This isn't supposed to be simple."

"It's supposed to be extravagant and costly," she responded.

"Torries are going to love you."

"They'll be so confused when I'm part of Scottish National Party." Before Harry could give her a reminder, Meredith carried on, "I know. No political affiliations, except for Trump."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Harry kissed her on the top of the head and went back over to the toaster.

"When do these things have to be decided?" Meredith asked. "What comes first? The venue and the church have been chosen." It wasn't like they had a choice. "We have the date. What comes next? I don't know where to start with any of this."

"What do you want your dress to look like?"

"White?"

Harry chuckled. "We're starting strong."

"I would like some pockets in my wedding dress."

Harry gave her a sad smile.

"That's not going to happen, is it?"

"Probably not, but ask."

Meredith rolled her eyes. "You posh people and all of your rules."

"Posh is not a word you use," the teacher, Jessica Brown, said as she walked in. "It puts a buffer between the people and family."

"Already a bunch of buffers are there. What makes another one? Are we scared they might figure out we're rich?" Meredith asked. She hadn't even realized it was princess training time. Standing, Meredith gave a plastic smile to Jessica. "How are you?"

Jessica wasn't impressed. "I am well. I have been given a promotion, your highness, ma'am. I am Miss Rogue's new secretary."

The smile slipped away from Meredith's face.

"I thought you might be happy, ma'am."

"I am. Internally." Meredith sat back down and glanced at books.

"We have training, ma'am."

"Are you my secretary now?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then you might as well get used to me not doing what you want, but you're welcome to come help me plan my wedding. Give training to me through that." Meredith tapped her finger. "Now, the silverware, Jessica. Why do I care as a royal?"

Jessica Brown looked over to His Royal Highness Prince Harry, who gave no response but a smile. He knew this was difficult, but there was only so much that he could do. Meredith was stubborn unless you gave her something.

"Your training is very important today."

"Why?" Meredith didn't even glance up.

"You're meeting certain people today."

Meredith arched an eyebrow at her husband. Harry said, "We meet important people every day." Meredith shook her head. "We have an event this afternoon in London, where we are working with at risk children. Are these important people going to be there?"

"No, ma'am, afterward."

"There is nothing on the schedule." And Meredith knew the schedule by heart. Her eyes drifted to her fiancee, who was obviously hiding something.

Coming over, Harry kissed the top of her head. "They're friends, Mere. Nothing to be concerned about. They'll quite enjoy you."

"Are these your posh friends?" She did it on purpose and gave Jessica a wink.

"No."

"They aren't school friends?"

"No. They're Americans."

Meredith shrugged. "That'll be easier."

"Don't shrug. It's unladylike," Jessica stated.

If she wasn't in the mood before, Meredith challenged it more. Slowly, she opened her legs. While nothing was seen, it was the idea of going against Jessica and what she wanted. Jessica's annoyance grew more. While she may have been happy to have a promotion, Meredith wasn't going to make it easy. They stared each other down.

Harry cleared his throat, and both sets of women's eyes snapped to him. "Who wants pancakes?"