Clara Spencer

Chapter 8

"Clara? Earth to Clara?" Clara shook her head upon hearing June's words. June was staring at her with wide eyes and a concerned look. She didn't mean to go off into her own world, but Clara was still reeling in what William had just said.

Clara took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I think I mis-misheard you or something. It's just not possible," Clara stuttered in denial. Harry, and even William, look at her sympathetically.

"I'm afraid it's very well possible," Harry stated with a grave tone in his voice.

"No-no I've done the math before; I ruled him out as my biological father a long time ago. Your parents were separated by the time I was conceived! Right?" Clara looked at them with urgency in her eyes, wanting them to agree with her. Harry sheepishly rubbed his neck. "Right?" Clara asked again with a slight waver in her voice.

"Um, well yes, but there was an incident that occurred that made it entirely possible for you to be his daughter," Harry explained, uncomfortable.

"I.... I just. I d-don't–I can't..." Seeing Clara was at a loss for words and completely overwhelmed, June decided to finally intervene.

"I think what Clara is trying to ask is for you to elaborate?" June prompted, biting her lip.

"Uh, sure–" Harry turned to face William, "Will, you know the story best, do you want to take over?"

Clearing his throat, William nodded, "Alright." He hoped this would help Clara understand better and come to terms with it, but he sure did hate recalling this story. It was really unpleasant for him. "I guess, it began..."

May 1996 - Kensington Palace

All day long, dark clouds hovered in the sky with the promise of rain. It wasn't until nightfall that it finally came. HRH Princess Diana sat by the window, watching and listening to the pitter-patter of the rain.

It had been a long day which finally concluded when she put her sons to bed. Poor Harry had been suffering from a fever that caused him to be in a restless state. It wasn't until just recently that the fever broke, and he was able to fall asleep. She was still full of worry and made sure she had the doctor on call in case his condition worsened.

Staring out the window, she took a sip from her glass of some of her favorite wine. It was already her second glass that evening but it was the only thing to occupy her as she waited and waited for him to come. He was late and her patience was starting to run thin. Just as she was about to take another sip from her glass, the butler came into the room.

"Ma'am, he's here. He's waiting in the foyer," the uniformed butler said curtly as he bowed his head.

Without turning around, Diana responded, "It's about time. Escort him here, please."

The butler nodded, "Yes, Ma'am." He turned around and exited the room. A few minutes later he came back, but this time with HRH Prince Charles. Upon hearing their footsteps Diana finally turned around, still holding the glass of wine in her hand.

"Thank you. You're free to go for the night." Diana offered a small smile to the butler. He simply bowed and retreated out the door. She then faced Charles again, and they each respectively took a seat on two armchairs facing each other. "You sure did take your time to get here."

"I was busy. I had several important meetings to attend to," he replied as he fiddled with his cufflinks.

She arched her brow, "You think discussing living arrangements for your children and their overall wellbeing isn't important?" Her tone and mood shifted into a much more aggravated one.

"I didn't say that," he snapped. "Don't put words in my mouth."

Diana just rolled her eyes and turned away from him, "Whatever."