A Dreamers Dream

A Prince, A Popstar and me. Windsor, England.

"For the next few hours all you have to do is sit and be pampered Trouble, I've got everything organised, hair, makeup, dress. Hell, I've even booked you a massage." He says proudly, his chest puffing out a little bit. You can tell he was raised in a home dominated by women.

"Hmm, I think even I can manage to survive through that. But first, I think you should remind me why it is that I agreed to this plan of yours.." I suggest in my best sultry voice, running a finger up his arm and marvelling as goosebumps appear under it.

Without a word, Harry bends and sweeps a hand up under my legs, lifting me up bridal style in his strong arms and turns towards the bedroom.

"Harry put me down!" I squeal as he pushes open the door to the sleeping area of his suite where I spot a huge queen size bed covered in fluffy pillows and a soft white duvet.

"As you wish." He drawls, and without mercy, he launches me up into the air. A scream escapes my mouth as I free-fall, but only for a second before I hit the soft mattress below which cushions my landing as Harry clambers over the end of the bed and hovers over me with lust shining from his darkened eyes. Maybe this trip won't be so bad after all?

"Wow, you look... ravishing," Harry exclaims, his mouth hanging open slightly as I finally enter the main lounge area of his suite after being secluded in the bedroom and large bathroom for what has felt like days. I'm not really complaining though, the massage left my limbs feeling like jelly, every inch of me so relaxed that I almost wonder how I am managing to walk straight when it feels like I don't have any bones. The hair and make up was a little more tricky to endure, but I have to admit, the sweet middle-aged Japanese lady that spent most of the afternoon trying to make me glamorous enough to attend this wedding has done a remarkably good job, I barely recognised myself when she finally allowed me to look in the mirror. My hair has been artfully styled in a clever up-do with wispy tendrils flying about in all the right places. It looks as though it could have taken five minutes to do from a distance, but in reality, I know a hundred-odd pins are holding each section in place and that each loose strand has been artfully positioned. My make up is subtle but elegant, a hint of a smoky eye and a light lipstick standing out from my bronzed, blushed and contoured features. When she tugged the floor-length pale pink dress over my head, and I felt the silky satin shimmy over my skin, I swear I made a noise that I thought only Harry could elicit from me it was that carnal. Add a pair of silver shoes and a clutch, and I have been transformed. Cinderella is ready to attend the ball. Now if I only I can stop my hands from sweating...

"Thank you. Amazing what a professional can manage, eh?" I quip back at him, feeling a blush rising in my cheeks at his praise.

"Maddie, you look beautiful the moment you roll out of bed in the morning right through until your head hits the pillow again. Even when you're sleeping, you're prettier than should be allowed. And besides, no matter how professional someone is or how good they are at their job, you can't polish a turd." Harry chuckles, his crudeness at the end of his sentence completely contrasting its sweet beginning, and I can't help but laugh back at him.

"Thank you." I say again, "What time do we need to leave?"

"The car will be here in about fifteen minutes," Harry says, checking his watch, which I notice like everything else he is wearing is designer. I take a moment to truly appreciate the gorgeous figure in front of me whilst he is distracted. The black pinstriped suit he is wearing fits him like a glove, no doubt tailored specifically for him and for this event. It is stylish but simple so as to not upstage anyone. He wears it with a simple white shirt, which, for once, is buttoned up to his throat, and finishes the look with a simple black tie. He looks like a Prince himself.

"Probably a good job we don't have to wait long, I'm not entirely sure that I can control myself with you looking like that," I tell him honestly, and he laughs again.

"Ditto. Come on, let's go wait in the lobby so we won't be so tempted." He says and holds his arm out to me like a proper gentleman. I slip my hand through it and square my shoulders, ready to face whatever tonight can bring and knowing that as long as I have Harry by my side, everything will be OK.

"Harold!" A chirpy British accent calls out through the crowd, and Harry spins us around to locate the source.

"James! How are you, mate?" He asks as he embraces James Corden in an awkward one-armed hug as he is still gripping on to my hand tightly with the other which I am grateful for, if I have my way, I'll cling on to him all night.

"I'm well, mate, I'm well. No need to ask how you are, your smile is lighting up this entire place. Aren't you going to introduce me to its cause?" James asks, smiling broadly at me, and I decide I like him already.

Since we arrived about half an hour ago, I have been introduced to several new faces. Ben Winston and his wife Meredith who were absolutely adorable, George Clooney and his wife, whom I could barely manage to mumble more than a shy hello to, and then, Elton bloody John. Who rendered me entirely speechless. I actually think I might have dribbled just a tiny bit whilst he and Harry were talking, but hopefully, they didn't notice.

"Of course, James, this is Maddie Graham, Maddie, James Corden."

"Pleasure to meet you, Maddie," James says, leaning forward to kiss my cheek. "Where have you been hiding this lovely lady eh Harold?"

"Ah, I've got to keep some mystery right, James?" Harry laughs and the two launch into an animated conversation about the rest of James' family.

I decide to take a moment to look around at the other guests in the room and take in the spender around me. I have never in my life been in a place

like this, and I highly doubt I ever will be again, so I intend to take in as much of it as possible. The ballroom where the reception is being held is the epitome of opulence and class. Chandeliers dripping with sparkling crystal hang all around the room sending sparks of dim light twinkling in every direction, a highly polished dance floor with white marble tiles fills the centre, with a raised platform at one end which serves as a stage on which a large orchestra is currently playing some classical tune that I'm not nearly posh enough to be familiar with. Rows and rows of long white tables with lavender accents and adorned with beautiful flowers are scattered around the rest of the space. Some already filled with guests sipping champagne and eating canapés which are being held high in the air on silver trays by waiters in tuxedo's who weave in and out of the guests as though they are highly trained dancers.

There's no sign of the guests of honour just yet, in fact, the only members of the Royal family I have spotted so far are Princess Eugenie and her father, Prince Andrew. Who remarkably, look just like normal people surrounded by this sea of celebrities. Oh, my fuck is that Oprah??

"The Royal couple will be arriving soon, shall we find our seats?" James' voice interrupts my thoughts, and I force myself to close my mouth and stop staring at the TV royalty across the room. I nod and follow along as James makes his way towards a table at the far end of the ballroom and takes a seat next to a pretty blonde lady who I assume is his wife as Harry somewhat drags me along behind him as I trip and stumble over my own feet as usual.

"Please be upstanding for his Royal Highnesses, Prince Harry and her Royal Highness Megan Markle, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex. The bride and groom." Booms a footman loud, clear voice and everyone in the room instantly rises to their feet applauding politely. I strain up onto my tiptoes to see above the sea of people, and as I catch my first glimpse of the Royal couple, I feel my knees tremble underneath me and wonder yet again, what the hell I am doing here.