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Tabitha
Princess Tabitha was sure she’d made it. She glanced nervously over her shoulder, but she didn’t see anyone. Of course, that didn’t mean much. They could turn up at a moment’s notice, swarming around her like locusts. The press were like that.
Most of Tabitha’s family had gotten used to it—it was part of being British Royalty, after all—but Tabitha still hated it. That was why she’d declined doing her shopping in London. She had traveled all the way to Bakewell, where she was sure no one would find her.
It was a small town, but there was a market here, and she longed to do some clothes shopping that wasn’t online only. There would be more choice online, but Tabitha loved being able to try on clothes and look at them in person without being harassed by reporters.
She got off the bus and walked into town, pulling her shawl closer around her head. She knew how recognisable she was so she was wearing clothes she definitely wouldn’t normally wear and sunglasses and a shawl over her hair and had her security team well briefed to stay at a distance and try to blend in. As the queen’s daughter, her face was well-known throughout the whole of the UK.
At first, the excursion went well. Tabitha wandered between stands, picking up things and buying here and there. She was careful not to flash too much money around, not wanting to draw attention to herself.
She was just buying a new dress when it all went wrong.
“Hey! Are you—are you Princess Tabitha?”
Tabitha felt her face going red. She wasn’t going to lie, but the last thing she wanted was to cause a scene. “Excuse me,” she murmured, trying to slip past him.
“You are! Lizzy, look, it’s Princess Tabitha!”
His shout drew a small crowd at once. Tabitha did her best not to grimace. She knew it wouldn’t be polite to flee from people who were only excited to see her, so she did her best to smile and greet each one of them.
Of course, that wasn’t the end of it. It never was.
Even small towns like these had reporters, and commotions like this one drew reporters like moths to a flame.
“Princess Tabitha! Princess Tabitha! What made you decide to come to Bakewell?”
A camera and microphone were shoved in her face. Tabitha tried to turn away, but the reporter just moved with her, not allowing her to escape. Her security team moved in quickly and started moving people away from Tabitha.
“I just wanted to do some shopping in peace. Please, leave me be.”
“Why did you come all the way out here? Is there friction between you and your family that sent you so far out?”
Tabitha resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They were always so insistent on creating conspiracy theories out of nothing. “My family and I are fine, thank you. Now please, move aside. I need to go.”
She dodged the reporter and exited at a swift walk, ignoring the trail of people that followed her.
Tabitha bit back tears as she nodded to her head of security who was close by. She knew he would have the driver there straight away. Before Tabitha knew it, Jason was waiting for her with the limo and Tabitha gratefully stepped inside. By now, she had a small entourage of people trailing after her.
Why can’t I just be free?
She hated it. She hated that this was her life. All she wanted was a break. If she could just take a brief holiday from all of this drama. She’d been dealing with it her whole life. If she could only have a small respite, she was sure that she’d be able to get back to handling it in her daily life.
The thought brought Tabitha up short.
Who’s to say she couldn’t have that? Why not go on holiday, somewhere far away where no one would recognize her?
She’d always wanted to visit the U.S. People there might know her name but probably not her face, not as well as the people of the UK at least. She just needed a better disguise. New hair and new style, she should be okay.
Tabitha brightened as the idea took hold. She’d have to sell her mother on it, of course, but Mary wasn’t unreasonable. She knew how much Tabitha had been struggling with all the constant attention from the public recently.
She got home and went straight to her mother’s office.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetie. How did your secret shopping go?”
