Brief Encounters

Timeline 1 (Part 15)

William's Point of View

The morning sunlight spilled through the palace windows, but it did little to warm the chill in the air. I adjusted my tie as I walked down the grand staircase, already dreading breakfast. After Jeanna's tour announcement and the media frenzy surrounding us, I knew there'd be questions. Granny wasn't one to shy away from addressing a storm brewing around the family, especially if it involved me.

As I entered the dining room, the tension hit me like a wave. The entire family was gathered: Granny—the Queen herself—perched at the head of the table, her teacup poised mid-air, as regal as ever. Dad sat to her left, brooding, while Aunt Anne read through the papers with her usual sharp-eyed intensity. Harry, of course, was smirking over his toast, clearly anticipating the fireworks.

And there it was, right in the middle of the table: Royal Romance? Jeanna's Night with Prince William Sparks New Dating Rumors!

Granny's cool gaze rose from the headline, pinning me in place. She didn't need to say a word to make her displeasure known. But, of course, she wasn't going to leave it at that.

"William," she began, her voice calm but laced with steel. "When you asked for permission to attend Jeanna's show, did that include this little... excursion?" She gestured toward the papers, her tone sharp enough to cut through the room's silence.

I resisted the urge to sigh, catching Harry's amused glance. The brat was loving this. I straightened my back, forcing calm into my tone. "No, Granny. I thought it would stay private."

"Clearly, it didn't." She placed the paper down, her brow lifting slightly. "And the photos of you both in Asia?"

"That wasn't planned," I said quickly. "Harry and I took a trip to clear our heads, and we happened to cross paths with her. Nothing more."

Dad let out a heavy sigh, the kind that spoke volumes. "You're not helping yourself, William," he muttered, shaking his head.

"And neither are the headlines," Aunt Anne chimed in, setting her tea down. "The press will eat her alive. And you, if you're not careful."

"And what of Catherine Middleton?" Dad asked, his tone pointed. "She's been waiting for your attention for years now. Have you given that any thought?"

My jaw tightened. "Catherine is a friend. She always has been. I've made that clear to you."

Granny raised a hand, silencing him. Her voice softened, but it was no less firm. "William, whatever you choose, I'll say this once: there will be no scandals. No mistresses. This family cannot withstand another round of what your mother endured."

Her words hit me squarely in the chest. Memories of Mum's laughter, her pain, and the way the tabloids tore her apart flooded my mind. Jeanna didn't deserve that—not the cameras, the headlines, or the whispers that would follow her everywhere.

Breakfast continued in tense silence, though my appetite was long gone. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I didn't check it.

As the table began to clear, Harry sidled up to me in the hallway, his arm slung casually over my shoulder. "Well, that went well," he teased, his tone light.

I shot him a look, not in the mood. "What do you want, Harry?"

"Look," he said, his voice dipping into something serious. "You know I'll back you, whatever you decide. But if you're serious about Jeanna, she needs to know what she's walking into. You can't let her figure it out the hard way—like Mum did."

His words hit harder than he realised—or maybe he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Thanks for the advice," I said dryly, trying to move past him.

But he wasn't done. "Just saying," he added, his tone shifting to playful, "if you decide not to pursue her, I'm available. You know she's my type."

I rolled my eyes. "Not happening."

He grinned and clapped my shoulder. "Relax, Wills. Just keeping you on your toes."