Charlie anxiously sat in the backseat of the car, looking outside the darkly tinted windows at the crowded London traffic, just a few minutes outside of Buckingham Palace. The mere thought of trying to be someone she wasn’t caused Charlie to nearly vomit her breakfast. She hated to lie, especially when it was to get something as stupid as dirty gossip of the Royal Family.
Not that she knew much about the Royal Family. Being born and raised in America, she was not up to date or obsessed with the royals. I mean sure, she watched the royal wedding of Kate and William, but she could not even name half the members of the family.
Looking down at herself, Charlie hardly recognized herself. After agreeing to go undercover and find hidden and exclusive information of the royal family, she received a dramatic makeover from Star Magazine. In short, they transformed her into a “proper Prime Minister’s daughter,” in which she would blend in and be able to commit towards her story.
For the past few hours, the magazine company has donated countless amounts of money towards her, whether it is for her appropriate articles of clothing, shoes, and etiquette. And to be honest, none of it seemed to be putting ease towards Charlie’s nerves. She simply fiddled with her newly cut locks and bite at her freshly painted nails.
“Don’t you dare chip that French manicure!” Lauren slapped her hand away from her mouth, trying to keep her appearance in tact. “Lucky for you, your appearance is the one thing that you have on your side in this undercover story.”
Charlie wasn’t sure to take that as a compliment for an insult, so she decided on the latter. Glancing back outside the window, she asked, “Are you sure that you are going to be able to get me inside Buckingham Palace. The security is not going to be easily fooled.”
Lauren smirked deviously, sitting in the seat across from Charlie within the backseat of the fancy looking car. “Star Magazine always has connections, Miss Anderson. One of our young editors just so happens to be married to the commander and chief security guard of the Buckingham Palace. She was able to get inside his schedule journal and write down a note that stated that Miss Abigail Rutte would be arriving this morning as a last second guest. When we arrive in this nice looking vehicle with our ‘chauffeur,’” Lauren explained as she pointed towards our receptionist who was driving the rented car, “They will not doubt that you are indeed the Prime Minister’s daughter.”
Charlie still felt uneasy, despite how well thought-out the plan was. “What if they need some sort of proof?” Charlie asked, to which Lauren rolled her eyes, pulling a thick pocket-sized book out of her pocket.
Handing the book towards Charlie, Lauren clarified, “That is a fake passport that Star Magazine created last night. The CEO made sure that it was official looking and held the real Abigail’s personal information within it.”
“The CEO?” Charlie repeated a whole octave higher than usual, her jaw nearly dropping to the floor of the rented car’s carpet. “The CEO of Star Magazine knows about this undercover story?”
“Sweetheart, he is the one that created this idea,” Lauren explained with a humorless chuckle, “And he is also the one that chose you to be the detective for this story. So if I were you, I would do a wonderful job of getting every dirty detail out of the Royal family while you are staying with them. You know? Like bond with Kate over her new baby in the oven, get the details on the gender and what not. Go for a one-on-one tea party with the Queen of England and learn her future plans for the country—anything. But there was one thing that the CEO did require that you do…”
“And what is that?” Charlie asked cautiously, intrigued and yet terrified of what Lauren was about to explain to her. All Charlie wanted to do was curl up on her couch, reading a good book with the acquaintance of her long-time pal and cat, Mr. Tiddybomboms.
And yes, Charlie was remarkably sober when she named her cat.
“The CEO has done a lot of research on the sales of magazines based off interest in the Royal Family for the past three months,” Lauren explained, claiming back the attention of Charlie, as she snapped out of her daydream. “And more than half of the interest within the Royal Family revolves around the naughty Prince Harry. Whether it is his cheeky smile, past drinking and drug problems, or his trip to Vegas, the world cannot get enough of him. That is why you must work most of your time around the eligible prince—figure out what he looks for in a girl, what his family thought of the Vegas scandal, whether he is available—all that gossip worthy information. But the CEO is very fixated on you becoming…more than friends with the prince while you are there for the Queen’s Jubilee.”
“He wants me to flirt with Harry?” Charlie stated, somewhat surprised and unprepared for what was to become of her undercover mission on the Royals.
“If you want to really get the good information that Star Magazine needs for this article, we need you…we need you to seduce the prince.” Lauren clarified, crossing her hands over her chest. “You need for him to open up to you, and that would be easiest if you were to be able to get—”
The car took a sudden halt, cutting off the words of Lauren. When Charlie took a glance outside, she noticed that guards surrounded her completely, for their rented SUV had just arrived in front of the Buckingham Palace gates. Lauren took a deep breath; fixing the well-composed suit she wore, as if to prepare for the “role” she was to play—which was the manager of Abigail Rutte.
“No visitors at this time,” the security guard commanded in a strict, official tone. Charlie knew that he meant business, especially since he was equipped with many noticeable weapons. However, she knew that Lauren would not back down, never accepting defeat.
“Why hello there, so nice of you to welcome such royal guests of Her Royal Highness…” Lauren whipped back at the security guard. She continued on with her well-planned out encounter with the security team, having every amount of information that they asked for. However, Charlie zoned out of the encounter, trying to focus at the thought of seducing the Prince of Wales.
As she tried to wrap her mind around her undercover story and how she would handle it, she failed to notice that the car began driving along past the now opened gates. Lauren was beaming next to her assistant, proud that she did indeed trick the security team (after a long ten minute battle) into believing that she was the Prime Minister’s daughter.
A butler of Buckingham Palace approached the car once it was parked in front of the palace, opening the door for Charlie. “Welcome Miss Rutte, we are so honored by your unexpected presence; please hurry in, biscuits are being served for breakfast as we speak.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Charlie spoke politely as he helped her out of the car, “I will just take my belongings to my room and get settled in.”
“Nonsense!” The butler insisted, looping his arm through her own, as he led her towards the inside of the palace. “The maids will take your belongings to your room and put everything in order, just the way you would like it. The Queen made it very clear that she wanted all guests in the sunroom for some biscuits and tea this morning.”
Charlie tried to send a farewell wave towards Lauren, but was pushed along inside the palace before she could. Being rushed by the butler, Charlie could not completely enjoy and relish the beauty of the palace—but the architecture was unbelievable, clearly constructed in the Elizabethan era, standing tall with golden details and dramatic archways. The paintings that stood on the wall looked as if they were simply a window in which Charlie was looking outside of: displaying spectacular views of the rolling hills of Britain and the flowing little creeks.
Charlie even felt as if the rugs she stood upon were too exquisite for her to stand her unworthy feet on. The intricate details of such lovely and different shades of colors were mixed together on the tightly sewn together pieces of fabric. She watched as her high heels stepped on the elaborate rugs, and yet her footprint would not last more than a second on the piece of cloth.
While being completely in awe of something as simple as the rugs, Charlie failed to notice that they arrived in the sunroom. The large room was filled with hundreds of people, some standing around talking with one another while sipping on their tea, while others were sitting on lounge chairs with biscuits in their hands.
“Madam, here is some biscuits and tea,” the butler handed a little saucer to Charlie, who gladly took the treats. “We all hope you enjoy your time here in Buckingham Palace, and just give us a call if you ever need anything.”
With a thank you and farewell, Charlie was then on her own, in a room of complete strangers. Even with so many people in one room all talking at once, it was very reserved and diplomatic, something that Charlie should have expected from such royal residents.
Taking a sip of the tea, she tried to keep herself from wincing. This tea was nothing like what she drank back at home, in which she drained all of the sugar containers into her beverage. And the biscuits were nothing like American biscuits—nothing was fluffy or delicious about the firm treat.
A skinny, forty year old man with a beautiful wife on his hip accidentally bumped into Charlie, as she continued to scowl down at the tea and biscuits in her hand, cursing the British for screwing up her breakfast. “Oh dear, I am so terribly sorry. My apologizes!”
“Oh, uh it’s no big deal,” Charlie said as she used her napkin to dry off the spilt tea. She mentally slapped herself for sounding so improper, as she sent the couple an innocent smile.
“I’m afraid we have yet to meet—I am Michael Gove, Member of Parliament and secretary of state of education. And this is my wife, Sarah Gove.” Charlie shook hands with both of them, noting to add a polite curtsey.
“Very nice to meet both of you. My name is Abigail Rutte; I am Prime Minister Mark Rutte’s daughter.” Both of the Gove’s faces lit up at hearing Charlie’s ‘father’s’ name.
“You are Mark Rutte’s daughter!” Michael Gove exclaimed, clutching his heart. “Oh I would have never guessed that in a million years—you must take your looks from your mother.”
“I have been told that quite often, actually,” Charlie lied, giving the couple a forced smile.
“Well then your mother must be gorgeous then, my dear.” Sarah Grove spoke up, pointing her teacup towards Charlie’s slim figure and magnificent facial features. “You must introduce us to your mother, we have yet to meet her.”
Charlie bit her lip, trying to come up with a convincing excuse. “Oh well, you see, my mother… man, she just hasn’t been feeling very well lately. In fact, that is why I am here because neither of my parents could make it. But they wanted to make sure that the Queen knew that our country, and my family, very much so supports the Queen and her Jubilee throne.”
Charlie felt proud after she finished with her rambling, thinking that she deserved a cookie for making that up at the top of her head. In fact, she should go find a butler and ask for a cookie. Wait scratch that, they cannot even cook a damn biscuit without screwing it up. But maybe if they provided some honey to drown the biscuit in…
“Oh that is unfortunate,” Michael Gove spoke up, giving Charlie a reassuring grin. “I’m sorry to hear that your mother is not feeling well. Let her know that she is in our thoughts in prayers.”
“I will, indeed.” Charlie said, turning on her heels to make a dash for the corner of the room, in which she would be alone and not constantly questioned.
“What does your mother have?” Sarah asked, causing Charlie to curse her luck. Turning back around to face the couple, Charlie faked a smile as she pondered on a legitimate illness her ‘mother’ could be suffering.
“Oh well, erm it’s this terrible, terrible infection.” Charlie rambled, scratching her neck as she struggled for something to come to her. “Y’know so terrible that they have yet to diagnose it. But yeah, it simply attacked her, her uh, nervous system, yeah so bad that it like collapsed on her. So she is… extremely nervous all the time, but she is taking everyday a step at a time. The doctors just felt that without a nervous system, her nerves would get the best of her, so they decided not to let her come.”
The couple furrowed their eyebrows together, confused by the story the young woman just told them. “So how exactly is your mother living without a nervous system?” Sarah Gove asked, looking towards her husband in confusion.
Charlie sniffed her nose, bringing her hand to cover her mouth as if she were about to cry. “I’m sorry, I am just getting so emotional thinking about my mother,” Charlie faked a short sob, in which the couple immediately patted her back and wished her the best of luck with her mother’s condition. “If you would please excuse me, I am going to step out for some fresh air.”
“Of course, feel better. You and your family are in our prayers.” Michael said, as he gave her a sympathetic grin. Charlie returned a weak grin, before heading outside to the patio, where a few other guests were enjoying their breakfast and each other’s company.
Charlie muttered various, impolite words under her breathe. She could not believe how bad she did under peer pressure, coming up with the most ridiculous story about how her mother was living without a nervous system! No one on earth could live without a nervous system, especially since that consisted of the brain.
Stupid. Could she have been any more stupid? How will she last two weeks in Buckingham Palace if she continues to make uneducated comments and stories like that? She has already buried herself twelve feet under before she has even been in the palace for an hour.
Charlie grunted, throwing her hands over her face in shame. She continued walking away from the patio outside of the sunroom, hoping that the sidewalk would lead her somewhere far, far away from the palace and royals.
One couple and she already ruined this opportunity. She knew that she was not the proper choice for this mission, yet she let herself get dragged into this mess all because she wanted a promotion. Could she not have sensed this would turn out badly?
Continuing on down the sidewalk, she past a few exquisite gardens, but was fuming to even realize how gorgeous they truly were.
She reached for her cell phone in her back pocket, deciding that she was going to call Lauren and have her come pick her up from this torture. There was no way that she was going to last here, and she needed to escape before this situation got anymore out of hand then it already was.
“Excuse me, Miss?”
Charlie whipped around at the sound of the deep British voice, which came from right behind her. Her eyes were met with the sight of one royal she least wanted to see especially now, dressed properly in a suit as his ginger hair blew in the British air. It was no other than Prince Harry of Wales.
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