"Calm down, you look fine."
Emmy glared at Taylor's casual approach, her chest heaving as she emerged from her room. It had taken her over two hours to get ready, and that was after she'd taken an eternity to choose what to wear. She still had no idea whether her dress was appropriate. What on Earth were you supposed to wear to dinner with the country's fashion icon?!
"Fine?" Emmy quoted, then pouted as she turned away. "Thanks."
Taylor laughed at her expression. "I'll let Harry give you the more explicit adjectives."
Chris tutted slightly at her. "Well I, Emmy, think you look completely fuck-able."
Somehow, that didn't make Emmy feel all that much better. "Chris, you're gay. Are you saying I look like a man?"
Chris chuckled. "I didn't say I'd fuck you..." He grinned, then swallowed a laugh and made a straight face. "Honestly, Em, you look lovely."
"Do I?" She smiled gratefully. "I'm just so nervous," she said, wringing her hands anxiously. "These are Harry's brother and sister-in-law. What if-" She took a deep breath. "What if they don't like me?"
Taylor shook her head at her. "You're so silly, Em."
"Am I?" Emmy said. "Or am I being completely rational? How can you know? How many people have met their future brother and sister-in-law -in-law? How many people had to simultaneously meet the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge?!"
"They'll love you," Chris said dismissively.
"What if they don't?!" Emmy said. "What if they hate me? What if Harry's whole family hates me?!"
"At least Harry doesn't hate you," Taylor pointed out.
"Yeah, but I probably annoy him no end," Emmy replied, then growled in frustration and turned away, placing a hand to her forehead, sure that this was too scary and stressful to be anything but a hallucination. "Oh god-"
"Em, Emmy, calm down," Taylor said, getting to her feet to hold her best friend at arms' length. "Deep breaths. You'll be fine."
Emmy closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded. "I'll be fine," she repeated.
"Yes you will," Taylor said, squeezing her hand then winking at her. Before she could continue to reassure her, however, the sound of the buzzer echoed from the hallway, and she smiled. "He's here."
"Oh great," Emmy said sarcastically.
For a man that she'd known for almost no time at all, Harry could read her very well. Almost as soon as she had stepped from her apartment block to where he was waiting for her by his car, he'd read her like a book.
"You're nervous," he said.
"Well done," she replied, somewhat bitterly – was it that obvious?
"What are you nervous about?" he asked, opening the car door for her, then sliding in after her.
"What do you think?" she snapped, then sighed. "Sorry- just..."
"Nervous?" he suggested, with a wry grin.
"You could say that," she admitted. Then she glanced at the driver: a burly man, with a mop of curly black hair and a face that was frowning ahead. Harry noticed her staring.
"Emmy, this is Rick. Rick is my head protection officer," he explained slowly. Introducing people to his bodyguards was always an awkward experience for him, especially when they were normal, like Emmy. He worried that they'd find the fact that he had security guards strange. Normally, with girls, he worried that it would scare them away.
This wasn't a problem with Emmy. Emmy wasn't allowed to be scared away.
"I also double as a chauffeur, apparently," Rick said from the front seat. His voice was gruff, a perfect match to his hard exterior, but his eyes flickered to Emmy in the mirror, the slightest hint of humour within them.
"Nice to meet you," she murmured, ducking her head. Her blonde hair fell in her eyes.
"Why are you nervous?" Harry asked, returning to their conversation.
"Isn't it obvious?" Emmy said. "I'm meeting your brother."
He scoffed. "He's not that great, no need to be nervous."
"He's the future king."
"So's my dad," he pointed out. "You were fine meeting him."
"I'd met him before," she said. "And, to be honest, I didn't realise I'd be marrying you when I did." Realising what she'd said, she stared, horrified, at Rick.
"Don't worry," Harry instantly said. "Rick knows."
Rick glanced over at the sound of his name. "Sir?"
"You know about Emmy and I's relationship," Harry answered, his tone a suppressed laugh.
"Oh yes," Rick said, chuckling to himself. "When's the wedding?" he added jokingly.
"Too soon," Emmy mumbled.
Harry shook his head at her. "Let's meet the parents first, huh? Well, the siblings, at least."
"Do I have to?" she murmured, pouting.
He took a deep breath. He knew she was joking, but in her eyes her fear was evident. Beside him, she seemed so small, so innocent and vulnerable. If she was nervous about meeting William and Kate, what would she be like when she had to accompany him on engagements and tours?
"They're really excited to meet you, you know," he said honestly. "Ever since I told William the news, he wanted to see if I was telling the truth about how hideous and horrible you are." He grinned at her.
Emmy smiled. "Evidently, you were."
"And Kate just wants to talk to you about everything," Harry continued, ignoring her self-depreciating comment. "She's been through it all."
"With the man she loved," she pointed out shyly.
"Pfft, you love me," he said dismissively.
"Oh yes," she answered dryly. "I can barely contain the urge to kiss you."
He chuckled. "You and every other woman I meet."
"Some don't," Rick quipped. "I've lost count of the amount of times I've had to stop horny women flinging themselves at you."
Harry held up his hands innocently. "What can I say?"
"Babe magnet," Emmy laughed.
"And I'm all yours," he teased.
Emmy's laughter faltered. No matter how lovable and charming he was, the thought of actually being with him scared her into silence. She wasn't used to love and intimacy. The thought of faking it all with Harry stressed her.
"Where do William and Kate live?" she asked, trying to change the uncomfortable subject.
"In Kensington Palace," he explained. "Well, they have a house up in Norfolk, they often stay with Kate's family in Berkshire. But when they're in London, they live here. Apartment 1A."
"Your next door neighbours," she said.
"Basically," he said. "Although they're far enough away so that I can't hear George screaming."
"Is George going to be there?" Emmy asked, a jolt of anticipation surging through her at the thought of meeting the adorable third-in-line to the throne that had stolen the nation's hearts.
"Yeah, he's there," Harry answered. "Hopefully he won't be crying."
Rick asked Harry something then, and Emmy lost herself in her thoughts for the rest of the journey, watching the richest part of Central London flash by as she tried to calm herself for her imminent meeting of the second and third-in-line to the throne. Her palms were clammy, and she wiped them nervously on the lacy skirt of her dress, praying that she wouldn't embarrass herself during the evening.
Finally, they arrived. A brief pause outside the gates, as they waited for the policemen there to open them, then their car was fluidly passing into the car park. Emmy looked up at the palace, recognising it from her last two visits there and wondering which of the windows belonged to apartment 1A. The sun was creeping into a set in the sky, flooding the clouds with an orange glow, and a warm breeze ruffled Emmy's hair as she stepped onto the concrete.
"It's nice for the end of September," she mused.
"It's all meant to change next week," Harry said. "Storms. Seventy mile an hour winds."
"Great," she said. "Thanks for ruining it."
He grinned. "It's not my fault that I'm so educated that I watch the news."
"Oh, so educated," she teased. "You probably only watched it for the sport."
"I'm offended that that's how you think of me," he said, gasping in mock outrage. "I'll have you know that I had an engagement and I was also watching it to see their coverage of that."
"Sorry," she said, fighting a grin. "I didn't realise you were so vain."
The banter was gradually calming her, forcing the thought of the scary upcoming introductions from her head, and she was slightly relaxed as she let him lead her into the palace. His cheeky grin was enough to make her forget what was coming, and she was ever grateful.
Harry, however, was learning. Learning how to keep her calm, learning how to make her relax, learning how to cheer her up and bring the real Emmy out. Learning so many things which he would need in their life together.
"This way," he said, as she made to go down the wrong corridor, following the route to his own flat. "That's the way to the staff apartments."
"And yours," she said. "Are you staff?"
"I'm good with my staff," he replied, then laughed at her roll of her eyes. "You're so easy to annoy."
"Not annoyed," she said. "Just...unsurprised."
He barked a laugh, the door to his brother's apartment now in sight. "I meant to ask you before, are you allergic to dogs?"
Emmy hesitated. "Yes," she said, hoping to get out of the evening.
He scowled. "Bullshit."
"It's not!"
"You're a terrible liar," he said dismissively. "Besides, Lupo's probably more teddy bear than dog, so you'll be fine."
Emmy took a deep breath as he knocked on the door, horror and fear suddenly paralysing her. Her heart hammered so loud it deafened her ears, and she could feel it pounding in her throat. Swallowing, she wiped her hands on her dress once more, wishing that Harry could just turn around and take her back home.
The sound of a barking dog quickly approached, followed by a reassuring voice, muffled. Then the door opened.
Something sleek, black and shiny jumped at Harry, causing him to double over, then proceeding to lick any piece of skin it could find. Harry's amused cries of "Lupo!" did nothing to stop the overexcited dog from attacking.
Emmy turned nervously to the man who had opened the door: tall, only slightly taller than Harry, with shoulders and chest just as broad, he stood confidently but, at the same time, reassuring. Welcoming. Kind. His blue eyes were striking, far more so than his only-half-there blond hair. He turned to Emmy, and when he saw her looking, he smiled.
"You must be Emmaline," he said, holding out a hand.
"Emmy," she mumbled, shaking it.
"Emmy," he said. "Good, Emmaline's a bit of a mouthful."
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"No, no, I didn't mean-" William began, horrified to think he'd offended her, but before he could continue, Harry had escaped Lupo's tongue, and the delighted puppy had laid eyes on his new cuddle-victim.
"Lupo!"
Emmy couldn't help but giggle as the enthusiastic dog jumped up at her, tongue lolling and eyes shining with excitement. His paws met her thighs, and he started to eagerly lick her forearm, his tail wagging furiously. He fell back down, then jumped up again, trying to get her to tickle him.
"Lupo, for God's sake, come!" William growled, and the dog finally obeyed, trotting back inside. "Sorry about him, he likes making new friends."
"It's okay," Emmy said, her shyness and nerves forgotten after Lupo's loving greeting. "I like dogs."
"I thought you were allergic," Harry muttered to her, grinning, as they followed William inside.
She scowled at him. "I thought I was a bad liar?"
"You are," he said.
They followed William down the hallway, Lupo leading the way with his tail wagging high in the air. He darted ahead, looking for his best friend, and when Emmy entered the room after the two princes, Lupo was running round a blond little boy, whose giggles filled the room.
William tutted lightly at Lupo as he moved over to scoop George into his arms.
"Sorry," he said to Emmy. "Lupo likes to tease George a bit."
"Although together they like to tease me when I'm here," Harry said, then scowled playfully. "They're both evil."
"Evil?" William barked a laugh. "George must get that from his uncle."
"Yeah, James is a psycho," Harry replied.
"This is George," William said, ignoring his brother. "I'll introduce you to him now, otherwise he'll get jealous. George, this is Auntie Emmy."
Emmy was surprised by many things in that second. Firstly: by how casual William and Harry were together, exactly how the media had always portrayed them to be. Secondly: by how blue George's eyes were and how blond his hair was, the spitting image of his father. Thirdly: William had said 'Auntie Emmy'.
"Auntie Emmy?" Harry quoted.
"You two are getting married," William said. "So yes, Auntie Emmy."
"Mah!" George said, squirming in his father's arms and reaching for his new aunt. "Ooh gah."
"I think he wants a cuddle," Harry said.
Emmy smiled. "I'd love a cuddle."
She couldn't help but smile as she was passed the future king by the future king, and she cradled the adorable George in her arms, sitting him on her hip as he stared curiously at her. "Hello," she said to him, gently stroking his chubby cheek with her thumb. "Aren't you gorgeous?"
William chuckled, loving, as ever, watching someone meet his son. "He's got his mum's looks."
"Oh, I don't know about that."
Emmy turned to the sound of the new voice, recognising that eloquent yet light and elegant tone. In the doorway stood Kate, watching the scene with an amused smile on her face.
She looked so different to the pictures and the videos. The news and the magazines had never done her enough justice. Her hair wasn't just soft and shiny, it looked silky and bouncy, like a waterfall that fell over her neck and crashed at her shoulder blades. Her eyes were very green, green even from across the room. Her figure was thin. Her smile was wide.
"Oh, I think so," William replied, the adoration for his wife unmistakeable as she moved into the room. "Kate, this is Emmy."
"Nice to meet you," she said, extending a slender hand that fit nicely in Emmy's. "I've heard a lot about who you are. But not about you."
"I think that's probably for the best," Emmy said, somehow relaxed by Kate. She had kind, reassuring eyes. Honest eyes. "Harry would probably have told you bad stuff about me."
"He is a bit of a liar," Kate agreed, laughing at her brother-in-law's scowl. "What? It's the truth?"
"When have I ever lied to you, Kate?" he asked.
"Well, there was that time you told me that the milk was alright to drink when really it was off and it tasted disgusting and you let me drink it!"
Harry chuckled. "I didn't realise it was off-"
"Liar."
"But-"
Kate glared at him, then laughed. "I'm sorry," she said to Emmy. "I don't envy you for what you're going to go through."
"What do you mean?" Emmy asked.
"Let's just say," Kate said playfully. "I got the better brother."
Emmy laughed.
"But Emmy gets the better looking brother," Harry replied.
"Bad boy, good looks," William chortled.
"Your husband said it, not me," he said to Kate. "At least I have hair."
William glared. Emmy giggled.
"I'm just finishing the dinner," Kate said. "William, do you want to take them to the dining room...?"
"Of course," William said. "Come here, Georgie, let's go get some food."
"Dada!" George cooed, as Emmy passed him back to his father. Then he swivelled round and fixed Emmy with his blue gaze. "Moo ta!" he said, pointing at her with a chubby finger. She smiled at him.
"I hope that means he likes me," she said.
"He said Moo," Harry answered. "He's calling you a cow."
She scowled. "I think that was meant for you, Harry."
"Ha ha." His voice dripped with sarcasm, but he couldn't help but smile at her. Her teasing only proved that she was slowly feeling comfortable, and Harry hadn't missed how her face had lit up when George had been passed to her.
"We're having chicken in a pomegranate sauce, apparently," William said. "Don't worry. Kate's cooking, not me."
"How's Kate doing?" Harry asked. "She seems a lot better."
"Yeah, the morning sickness comes and goes," William admitted. "But she's been feeling better for the last few days. That why we came back. Before she has another bad week again."
"Does George know he's getting a little brother or sister yet?" Emmy asked.
"No," William said, chuckling. "He'll probably just get really jealous."
They moved into the dining room, the table set for four with George's highchair squashed at the corner. Emmy looked around: the whole apartment had seemed far more what she had expected. Classy yet slightly minimalistic. Stylish and modern yet timeless.
"Would you like any wine?" William asked. "Kate can't have any, but she said she doesn't mind if you two do."
"That would be great, Wills," Harry said, sparing his brother a smile. Then, once he'd left the room, he turned to Emmy. "So, what do you think?"
"It's...very nice," she said shyly. "And they're both very nice too."
"And George?"
"George is adorable."
He chuckled. "Not nervous any more then?"
"No," she said, smiling. "They're lovely, how could I be?"
"I told you you were being silly," he said, nudging her playfully. "They both like you."
"They said?" She frowned. She hadn't noticed William or Kate mention anything to him.
"I can tell," he said. "Especially Kate. Although, Kate likes everyone."
"She's lovely."
"You caught her on a good day," he mused. "Last time I saw her, her hormones had gone mad and she practically bit my head off when I asked her how she was doing."
Emmy laughed lightly as she took her seat beside him. "Did Edward tell you why he had to change today's meeting?" she asked.
A week earlier, when Emmy had been forced into her etiquette lessons and had ended up ruining Charles' drawing room, Edward had arranged a meeting with her and Harry to discuss the engagement. That morning, she'd gotten a text from Harry saying the meeting had been delayed a week. Without explanation.
"It's a long story," he said. "Basically, they were planning the engagement for the end of October, yes? But they didn't really think it through. We've only been pictured together a few times, and the press are just starting to catch onto your scent. I think my father thought that they would've figured out who you are by now, but they haven't. So the schedule is changing."
"More dates?" she asked, with mock exasperation.
"More dates." He grinned. "I think if the press don't catch on soon, they're going to have to leak something."
"Great," Emmy said, as William returned with two glasses of wine and a babbling George toddling behind him.
"That's when life gets really fun for you," William said to her, catching only the end of their conversation. "I must say, I was expecting to have seen more pictures of the two of you by now."
"We were just saying that," Harry said. "And that's why Pa's changed his mind. He's put the engagement back at least a few weeks."
"How do you feel about all this?" William asked Emmy. "The, uh, royal life and all."
"I haven't really thought about it," she admitted, then bit her lip. "Maybe I should start."
He chuckled. "Kate's willing to talk to you about anything. Her and I just want to help."
Emmy smiled, shyly yet gratefully. "Thank you. I...really appreciate it."
"We can't imagine how hard this whole thing is for both of you," he said, shrugging her words off. "We just want to do what we can to make it any easier."
Harry smiled then, too. "We're really grateful, Wills."
"Really," she echoed, nodding.
William smiled, but a hint of exhaustion flickered on his face. "Sorry," he said, stifling a yawn. "George kept me up last night."
"George or Kate?" Harry teased.
"George," William replied, scowling. "Kate's too hormonal to put up with me."
Emmy laughed lightly. "Does she need any help in the kitchen?"
"No, she's fine," he said. "I just went in there and she hissed at me until I left."
Harry barked a laugh. "She just knows what you're like in the kitchen."
"Hey! I'm getting better!"
"The lasagne begs to differ."
"Oh come on! That was my first time and you still ate it."
"I was hungry," Harry said dismissively. "We'd been waiting for, like, three hours."
"I warn you now, Emmy," William said to her. "Harry is a complainer. He will complain about everything. If he does, just whack him with a saucepan or a book or something. Normally shuts him up."
Emmy laughed lightly. "I'll be the one complaining. Harry's older, so he'll be the one doing all the cooking."
Harry looked smug. "Well, let's just say that not only am I the better looking brother, but I'm also the better cooking brother."
She cringed. "That was such a bad joke."
"Oh, I was proud of that one."
"You should be ashamed," William agreed. On his lap, George frowned at Harry. "See? Even George is unimpressed."
"George didn't even understand what I said!"
"Lucky George," Emmy said, then fought a grin at Harry's glare.
Before long, Kate returned to them with the meal, and it was Emmy's chance to start to get to know her future sister-in-law. Sitting opposite with a sleepy George next to her, the Duchess immediately struck up a conversation with Emmy about fashion.
"What sort of shops do you go to?" she asked. "Because high street is good. The public like it when you wear high street."
"I'll probably have to get a whole new wardrobe," Emmy said. "I only own two dresses."
Kate laughed lightly. "I'll go shopping with you sometime, if you'd like? William can spend the day with George." She gave her husband a mock-sweet smile, which he returned.
"I'd really like that," Emmy answered. "I don't really know what sort of things I'll need, so that would be great."
"I presume Charles is going to give Emmy a shopping allowance?" Kate turned to Harry now.
He shrugged, then swallowed his mouthful. "We haven't spoken about any of that yet."
"You'll need a dress for you engagement," Kate said, then she smiled widely. "Oh, how exciting! You'll need so many new outfits!"
Emmy couldn't help but smile with her. "You like shopping?"
"Can't you tell?" William chortled.
Kate pouted at him, then nodded. "I do. Although it takes me hours because I go and look round all the shops, then I have to go back and have another look. The clothes that the public expect you to wear, they're certainly not cheap."
"Your dad can pay for them," Harry said.
Emmy laughed. "That solves all our problems."
It was a fun evening. George starting crying at one point, so Uncle Harry was bullied into putting him to bed while William and Kate spoke to Emmy about working at Starbucks and how long she'd lived in London for and whether she liked the meal and blah blah blah. Finally, when the wine had been shared between three, George was dosing in his cot and Kate had put the dishes in the dishwasher, it was time to leave.
It was dark outside, but William walked down with Harry and Emmy to the car park, shivering in his thin shirt.
"It's getting dark quickly now," he said. "Soon it'll be winter."
"That's cheerful," Harry said sarcastically. "Especially when winter means imminent wedding."
Emmy smiled. "You need to stop linking everything to the marriage."
"Yeah," William agreed. "You're the older one, and yet Emmy's being more mature than you are."
Harry rolled his eyes at the two of them. "Let's go. Before your flatmates start to worry."
"Nice to meet you," William said to Emmy. "I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other soon."
"Yes, thank you for the evening," she said, smiling widely. "The meal was lovely."
"Compliments to the chef," Harry said, grinning. "Right, let's go."
In the car, Emmy turned to Harry and smiled. "That was fun."
"Funny," he mused. "I can recall someone being terribly nervous a few hours ago."
She bit her lip and fought a smile. "I don't remember that."
"No," he said, chuckling. "You've probably had too much wine."
Emmy scowled. "When will we see each other next?"
"Next week. Edward's meeting, remember?"
"As long as he doesn't change it again," she said.
"He won't," Harry said. "We can't delay it much longer. Besides-" He grinned. "I won't have seen you all week. I'll probably be getting withdrawal symptoms."
Emmy rolled her eyes at his teasing tone. It was going to be strange, not seeing him for a week when they were being pushed together so much.
Then again, neither of them could foresee the drastic change the next week was going to have on their relationship. And by the time the meeting came round, the whole plan would have changed.