A Royal Wedding
A Royal Wedding royalwedding stories

thatfkinggirl I write, no relation
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
A Princess, a Prince, the televisual event of the year and a million cups of tea

A Royal Wedding

"Doesn't she look lovely?"

"I guess, the dress probably cost several of my life savings and she had a team of hundreds to work on her make up. Anyone would look good with. . .

" my mum shot me a look, it asked me politely to shut up

"what? Don't be silly pet" my Gran admonished me with a dismissive wave "she's naturally beautiful.

A princess, that's why he's marrying her after all" she said before regretfully adding "I mean, you wouldn't expect that with a girl who's half black" I glanced at my mum,

who gave me a look as she was about to take a sip of tea that asked me to forgive my gran, she's old and set in her ways,

and at least she didn't use the more unfortunate descriptions in polite company anymore.

The fine China was out in all its glory today, it was a special occasion after all. Not just another royal wedding, but  me and my family being in the same place at the same time.

I'd moved away more than a decade ago after one to many squabbles after my father's death.

The house hadn't been redecorated since, and aside from several unnecessary electrical items dotted around the place and a new cat,

I found it easy enough to help make the tea without having to ask where things were.

The living room had some new pictures up on the walls. My sisters ever growing army offspring loomed over us, it felt as if even though Clara had yet to arrive, she was talking over.

Also absent but infecting the house was my brother.

The TV a gift from him to my mother was far too big for the living room, it covered several of the pictures I remembered always being there growing up, one of us together as kids in the garden,

and my parents wedding. My parents beaming outside the local churchs doors, confetti dotted the ground. My mothers dress wasn't subtle, it let the world know she was getting married.

My dads choice of a kilt despite having no Scottish heritage always raised a laugh, he always said the moustache was the biggest mistake though.

Mum seemed happy though, a bi-monthly phone call to discuss the weather in different parts of the country seemed to keep her satisfied.

It was only recently that she'd gotten quite insistent on me coming to visit.

I'd done quite well convincing her I was busier than I actually was, but found myself stuck for excuses this weekend.

London was closed for the day and I hated the hoopla surrounding the Royal family. "well you might as well come up to visit us then"

Despite being stared at by dozens of unfamiliar children's eyes it felt good to be back, I did insist on getting a hotel room for the night however, and it was nice to see gran again.

Like most elderly people she had not time to learn about emails or texts,

her added hearing issue meant the only time we'd been able to chat was when I'd called my mum and she'd relayed the message back and forth between us.

She was the only one who had mastered the correct volume and pitch to talk with her without resorting to shouting like a comedy football hooligan ordering food overseas.

When it came to family, even though she was a little abrupt and rude she was one I'd missed. Being away for so long I almost forgot what she looked like.

"her dress is lovely isn't it?" I go to say something snarky again but catch myself.

"yeah, it's lovely gran" her enthusiasm made me hate the experience less, soon we were all silently watching,

our gaze only breaking to make sure our chocolate biscuits didn't get eviserated in our PG tips.

Vows were exchanged, the bride was kissed and we all agreed that another cup of tea would be "grand".

"well that was lovely" my nan turned and placed her hand on my knee "reminded me of your wedding,

you looked like a princess as well" devestated and insulted to think that she mistook me for my sister I pulled back.

"you mean Clara? She got married in a registry office gran, pretty sure it was in a tracksuit as well"

"your aunt Clara? No love, she had to have her dress let out around her tummy because of. . . Well you know.

But you looked like a princess, he was definitely a worthy prince" she took my hand and squeezed it lightly, she smiled then burst into laughter "all except for that bloody moustache"

I joined in her laughter as a reflex. I looked towards my mum for a more appropriate response, her face was hidden by a mask of fine China, it told me to go with it.

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