Chapter Text
Despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins, Jamie begins to feel fatigue take hold. Her muscles ache as she struggles to deflect blow after blow and her offensive jabs are clumsier and less focused which makes striking her opponent much more challenging. The sweat that once beaded along the nape of her neck now pools along her back causing her dampened tank top to stick to her skin. Her pulse is pounding so hard she can hear it. Judging by her opponent’s labored breathing, she was on the verge of exhaustion as well.
They’re at a stalemate ten minutes into their standard morning sparring session. If it were anyone else, this battle would have already ended. But Rebecca is one hell of a fighter. Her years of training in mixed marital arts makes her unpredictable in a fight. On top of that, she has a reputation for being absolutely ruthless. Always giving it her all until the very end. All of these attributes make Rebecca quite the intimidating opponent and are the very reasons Jamie loves training with her.
Every morning, Jamie walks off the mat having learned a new skill that just might save her life one day. After all, the careers of MI6 agents can be quite unpredictable, and Jamie was determined to be as ready as she could be the moment she was finally called up from desk duty.
Jamie takes a few deep breathes as she continues shuffling around mat. Light on her toes, circling Rebecca like a shark with her fists held out in front of her face. Jamie lets Rebecca take the lead, blocking a few quick jabs with ease. But Rebecca is caught off guard when Jamie ducks beneath a cross body punch and converts her momentum into a low sweep that knocks Rebecca clean off her feet, landing flat on her back with a thud.
“Wow, what’s gotten into you today?” Rebecca asks in between pants.
“Today’s the day Becs. I can feel it!” Jamie says as she bends at the waist, extending a hand to Rebecca to help her back up to her feet. Rebecca accepts the offer while rolling her eyes at Jamie’s optimism.
“You say that every day and still, you have yet to receive a big assignment out in the field.”
“Well yesterday wasn’t today.” She states matter-of-factly with a cocky smirk and her hands on her hips.
The exerted grunts of the other agents training and the air thick with sweat and heat fade out entirely after the door to the women’s locker room closes behind them. Both Jamie and Rebecca proceed to wash up, change out of their gym clothes, and into their work uniforms. Per MI6’s standards, her usual attire consists of a crisp white button up contrasted with black slacks, black tie, black blazer, black leather oxfords, and, just for fun, calf length novelty socks. It was the only bit of rebellion and individuality Jamie could successfully sneak into her work wardrobe. Today she decides to go with her lucky pair with four leaf clovers and tiny rainbows scattered among a light blue fabric.
She appraises herself in the mirror alongside Becs taking her time to straighten her tie into the perfect Windsor knot. Then she gets to work styling her hair. Slicking each strand back and away from her face and tying the loose ends into a neat bun at that nape of her neck. After she is satisfied with her professional appearance, she secures her trusty pistol in her shoulder holster and conceals the weapon underneath her blazer.
Once they were sufficiently dressed to impress, Becs and Jamie exit the gym and grab a quick bite to eat from the cafeteria before making their way to the conference room for their morning briefing. They arrive five minutes early and commandeer a pair of empty seats in the front row, chatting with one another as the other remaining agents file in.
All murmuring stops at the crescendo of clacking heels coming from the adjacent hallway.
The familiar sound signals the approach of the legendary MI6 agent, well-seasoned veteran who saved the world three times before she was thirty, and Jamie’s personal hero: Viola Lloyd.
Jamie straightens her posture in her seat seconds before her boss storms into the room.
The towering brunette plops a mountain of manila folders onto the only unoccupied desk at the front of the room. Without making eye contact with anyone in particular, she snaps her fingers. Two interns scurry at the sound all the way from the back of the room to the front, beelining for the folders. After scrambling to collect them, the two jittery underlings silently distribute them among the seated agents as Agent Lloyd logs into the desktop at the front of the room.
Jamie receives the dossier with her name on it as her boss proceeds to open her PowerPoint presentation for the morning run down. Viola breezes past the cover slide with the MI6 coat of arms along with the obligatory ‘This is Top Secret tell no one about this’ warning and straight to a slide of one of the most longstanding and well know buildings in all of England: Bly Palace.
“Right.” Agent Lloyd begins, “It appears there have been some new developments with the Royal family constituting a national emergency with international intrigue. As a result, our services are needed to aid in this now public affair.”
The brief intro alone had Jamie on the edge of her seat. This was type of assignment that could make her career. She did her best to conceal her excitement, clutching her folder in her lap desperate to know the enticing details of her personal assignment, as her boss continued on with her detailed briefing.
Agent Lloyd advances the presentation to a slide with several photos of what looked like someone’s elaborate bedroom and a cracked window next to a bent drainpipe.
“The first incident involved a breaking and entering into the Princess’s private apartment. A few weeks ago, an intruder or intruders, it is difficult to know for sure at this stage, managed to elude palace security. We believe whoever it was climbed up a drainpipe and entered the palace through an unsecured window in the Princess’s quarters as shown here. Seeing as no one was harmed and nothing of value was taken, the Royal family did not feel this incident warranted the involvement of the police nor the government, both of whom would have recommended additional security measures. Instead, simple alterations with their current practices among their private guards were put in place and extra locking mechanisms were added to all the windows in the Princess’s apartment.”
Agent Lloyd advances to the next slide. “Now, that brings us to the present.”
It was the same regal apartment as before. Only this time, some type of skirmish had clearly taken place. The window closest to the bed was wide open, and the adjacent curtains were tattered and torn. The painting above the bed hung askew and the plush comforter atop the bed was practically on the floor. The sheets underneath following suit as if someone was lying it in and then was forced to evacuate in a haste.
“Unfortunately, it appears, this was not an isolated incident as the Royal family had hoped. Just last night there was another breach of palace security. Only this time the young Princess was present. This time a vagrant was found in her Highness’s private apartment after having some type of encounter with her. The specifics of which are not fully disclosed to us at this time as the Princess seems too rattled to fully divulge details. What we do know is the Princess is alive with a few minor scrapes and bruises, which is the most important thing. However, there is no way to know that something like this will not happen again, but based on our working theory regarding why these two events happened in the first place, I’d say with confidence the chances of a repeated incident are high.”
Viola moves from the slide of the crime scene to one of the Royal family.
“We have reason to believe the motivation of those behind this is tied to future of the monarchy. As you are all aware, the King has been of ill health battling cancer for the last several months. Sadly, his prognosis is not good. It is only a matter of months before his only heir, Princess Danielle, ascends the throne. With that inevitability, it would appear the Queen is determined to marry their daughter off to an eligible suitor before she becomes the reigning sovereign.
The wealth, lands, and reign of power held by the Princess of Bly, along with her direct line to the throne, makes her the most eligible bachelorette in the entire country, and possibly the world. So far, she has rejected several suitors over the weeks preceding the known breaches into Bly Palace. Because of the potential international political ramifications of the most recent attack, any future attacks, and the future marriage of Princess Danielle, parliament thought it best to involve MI6 in the active investigation.
What we know so far is merely speculative based heavily on interviews from palace staff. Therefore, we don’t know if someone with ties to the palace is mixed up in this ordeal. MI6 will operate discreetly as an impartial entity, placing our sole trust in one another. The safety of the Princess of Bly as well as the investigation into these intrusions will be given top priority by our department. You have all been given the details of your individual roles in this operation. I expect you all to get to work immediately.”
The second her boss concludes the presentation, Jamie tears open her folder with enthusiasm. This is exact mission she has been waiting and dreaming for! She is so beyond excited she can barely read the words on the classified documents. Once her brain calms down enough to properly focus, her euphoria dissipates. Her jaw hangs agape in complete shock as she fully processes the specifics of her assignment.
That feeling of bafflement lingers for the remainder of the day and well into the evening.
The pub she ends up at after work is close to MI6 headquarters. She hunkers down at their usual table alongside Rebecca in the back corner of the crowded establishment, drowning her disappointment in a pint of lager.
“Well,” Rebecca begins after a few minutes of companionable silence, “technically you were right. You did get your first assignment out in the field today.”
Jamie rolls her eyes and takes another long swig of beer. “I’m a glorified babysitter for a princess.” She grumbles.
“True, but I mean the boss must recognize your potential to trust you with protecting such a high-profile target. That’s gotta count for something, right?”
Jamie knew Becs was trying to be a good friend and cheer her up, but she wasn’t in the mood for that. She just felt like sulking and drinking away this whole situation. She scowls in silence watching the beer foam bubble to the surface.
“Besides,” Rebecca continues with a warm smile, “bodyguard duty is bound to have some action. Plus, this is actual royalty we are working with here. If you pull this off, Viola is bound to give you a much better assignment after this.”
The prospect of a better future makes Jamie feel better. She takes a deep breath letting those words sink in and allowing her shoulder to fully relax.
“I suppose you’re right.” She concedes, downing the rest of her drink. Then she turns her attention towards the bar in an attempt to scout the fastest route through the throng of tightly packed bodies. While she does, she catches the eye of an attractive woman leaning over the bar. Her attention is pulled away from the smiling red head by a few friendly pats along her back.
“Drink up tonight and have some fun while you can.” Rebecca says, nodding her head in the direction of the woman Jaime was just checking out, “You’re a hostage to your job starting first thing in the morning. Who knows how long it will be until you’re a free woman again.”
“I definitely will.” Jamie voices in agreement. She collects her empty glass, weaves through the crowd, and saddles up next to the cute girl at the bar.
The next morning, Jamie puts on her customary MI6 uniform paired with her least flashy multicolored, stripped socks, collects her duffle bag packed to the brim for her lengthy assignment, and bids her flat farewell for now.
For once, the weather wasn’t rainy and dreary making the drive on her motorcycle from the bustling city of London out into the quaint country of Bly rather enjoyable. She is invigorated by the peaceful drive through the sprawling greenery speckled with wildflowers. The warm spring air whips against her arms as she continues down the winding path towards the medieval style palace. Once she arrives at the iron gate surrounding the castle, she flashes her MI6 badge to the red coated armed guards who then grant her access inside the inner palace roads. Jamie continues her journey up the vast, expansive gravel road all the way through the inner courtyard, parking her motorcycle underneath the overhang at the main entrance.
There she is greeted by at least a dozen servants dressed in various palatial attire. One modestly dressed employee takes her duffle bag and scurries off inside with it while a similarly dressed man takes the keys to her motorcycle, presumably to park it in one of the secured garages. The most formally dressed man clad in a military style navy blue coat and matching slacks with a thin sword hanging from his hip escorts her into the grand foyer. She proceeds to follow a few paces behind this man, she assumes is one of the palace pages, through the labyrinth of hallways and up multiple flights of marble stairs adorned with red carpet runners. Eventually, they end up in an enormous hallway the size of a literal football field lined with seemingly life sized, hand painted portraits in elaborate golden frames of what Jamie can only assume are past Clayton Kings and Queens. At the very end of the room is Viola Lloyd standing in front of a large set of doors flanked by a pair of servants in red coats.
The page halts in front of the set of doors and spins on his heel. He clasps his hands behind his back before addressing the two agents.
“Her Majesty Queen Katherine and her Royal Highness Princess Danielle will see the both of you now. As per protocol, you will both follow three paces behind me. When I stop that is your cue to also stop. Then, I will announce you both and you will bow at the neck to the Queen and the Princess in that order. Afterwards, I will exit the room. You shall remain silent until either the Queen or the Princess addresses you first. Is that all clear?”
Jamie nods yes practically in unison with her boss, trying to quickly memorize the rules she just heard. She has an odd feeling this will not be the last set of strange rules she will have to abide by while living under this ornate and ancient roof.
The page about faces once again and firmly nods to the servants guarding the door. They proceed to open the double doors revealing yet another grand room. As instructed, Jamie and Viola trail behind the page until they halt in front of the Queen and Princess of England.
The page bows his head. “Agents Viola Lloyd and Jamie Taylor of MI6.” After the introduction, he bows again. Then pivots on his heel and exits the chamber shutting the door behind him. Both MI6 agents bow as instructed and then stand in silence waiting to be addressed by the noblewomen.
As a born and bred Englishwoman, Jamie has heard about the Royal family her entire life. She knew all about the wealth they had at their disposal and was familiar with seeing their parades and weddings on TV and plastered all over tabloid magazines. Needless to say, she was a little shocked by the two women standing before her.
No tiaras, no gaudy jewelry, and no overly fancy gowns.
If she didn’t know any better, she could have easily mistaken them for any other wealthy mother and daughter duo.
The Queen stood before them wearing a bright mauve long-sleeve top and with golden round buttons lining the middle from neck to waist paired with a matching knee length pencil skirt and bright white pumps. Her dirty blonde hair was styled in a fancy up do in similar fashion to her daughter’s. She struck Jamie as the type of person that thrives on sticking out in a crowd. The Princess on the other hand, did not. She seemed smaller in person as if dwarfed by the long cast shadow of the Queen. Her simple powder blue A-line dress was not flashy nor brightly colored like her mother’s. Yet, it suited her and the color perfectly highlighted her stunning blue eyes.
“Good morning Agents,” The Queen said, “It’s been quite some time since we’ve had the pleasure of entertaining MI6 within the palace. We hope everything is to your liking.”
Jamie knew there was resistance to their involvement with the Royal investigation. She tries not to appear offended by the Queen’s blatant tone of annoyance with hosting government agents. Instead, she focuses on channeling the cool and neutral energy emanating from her boss.
“You have a spectacular home your Majesty.” Viola begins. “We do intend to put this matter to rest as quickly and discretely as possible. You’ll barely even notice we were here.”
Viola’s reassurance that MI6 was working hard to leave the palace seemed to put the Queen at ease. Her lips twitched into a satisfied smirk.
“Well then Agent Lloyd,” The Queen says while gesturing towards a pair of plush red satin chairs, “Please enlighten us on how you intend to accomplish our mutually desired outcome.”
The Queen and Princess both take a seat on an antique couch that was probably worth more than Jamie’s entire salary. She follows suit and sits in the offered chair across from the Royals next to Viola.
“Thank you, your Majesty. Our plan is simple.” Viola begins, “A small team of agents will inspect the palace looking for any possible vulnerabilities that may lead to a future unwanted intrusion. In addition to that, they will interview staff members to gain more information regarding the two known incidences as well as pursue leads outside of the palace walls alongside Scotland Yard, of course. I personally will report here on a regular basis to inform you of any and all developments. As for Agent Taylor here.” Jamie steels herself at the mention of her name knowing they were about to transition into the more difficult part of the conversation. “She has been assigned as Princess Danielle’s personal bodyguard. She will remain with her Royal Highness at all times to ensure her safety until the conclusion of the investigation.”
A look of abhorrence flashes across the Queen’s face. “Do you take me for a fool Agent Lloyd? You must, because how else could you possibly expect me to believe that this scrawny girl is capable of protecting my daughter, the future Queen of this country?”
The Queen’s disapproval leaves sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Viola on the other hand, did not seem phased in the slightest. She simply smiles all the wider as if she were pleased by this reaction.
“With all due respect your Majesty, you own underestimation of Agent Taylor’s abilities is exactly why I personally assigned her to this highly important duty.” Jamie beams at Viola’s compliment. She notices the Queen’s smile falters ever so slightly but the young Princess’s lips up twitch in a small smile.
“Aside from being our most promising young agent, Agent Taylor is close enough in age to her Highness that she can easily blend into her social circle which is preferred in delicate situations such as this. Plus, her gender is an asset. It gives her closer access to areas that off limits to her male counterparts including Princess Danielle’s private quarters. Which we all know is a location the intruders are not shying away from.”
Viola’s rationale seems to reassure the Queen and put her at ease. The Princess opens her mouth to speak but the Queen quickly cuts her off before she could utter a single word.
“Well, we will just have to trust your expertise on the matter Agent Lloyd. Now that that is settled, Agent Taylor should get to work as soon as possible.” The Queen concludes by pressing a button atop the ornate wooden side table to the left of the couch. Seconds later, the page returns to the room and escorts the MI6 operatives back out in the large adjacent room with the portraits.
Jamie parts ways with her boss and is passed off to a younger man with hair slicked back and a crooked smile. Judging by his pristine charcoal grey suit and thick gold watch, Jamie assumes this man is a higher-ranking staff member. The man introduces himself as Peter Quint, the Princess’s private secretary. He explains he in charge of arranging the Princess’s day-to-day affairs and is someone Jamie will be in contact with on a regular basis. Peter provides her with a printed copy of the Princess’s schedule for today. She holds on to this as he proceeds to take her on a tour of the palace to meet various other staff members.
After the formal introductions, Peter bids her farewell passing her off to a servant who then takes Jamie to her own room located in the Princess’s private apartment. She is shocked at the size of the spare room she will be calling her home for the time being. It was at least three times the size of her London flat and fully furnished with everything Jamie could possibly need including her own duffle bag.
Jamie lays down on the bed and shuts her eyes after the servant leaves, taking a moment to let this whole situation really sink in. Her moment of peace is interrupted by her phone vibrating in her pocket. She retrieves the device and accepts the incoming video call from her close friend Owen.
“Wow, loving the new flat. Can I get a tour? Also, shall I bow to you from now on?” Owen comments in jest causing Jamie to playfully roll her eyes as she sits up.
“You should bow to me anyway but not because of this.” She proceeds to walk around giving Owen the virtual grand tour. She grimaces at all the weird stuff she finds. A giant oil painting of a horse, gaudy red curtains with golden tassels surrounding her large window, and an absurdly large vase without a plant in it.
“Jesus could you imagine livin’ in a place like this your entire life?” Jamie asks.
“Yeah, probably not.” Owen says with a chuckle, “It’s a bit too-”
“Ancient, pretentious, outdated?” Jamie rattles off.
“I was going to say posh, but that work too.”
Jamie picks up the itinerary Peter gave her, scanning the contents for the first time as Owen continues commenting on her situation.
“I’m sorry this isn’t cracking up to be the big mission you were hoping for.”
She barely notices his words of sympathy, too distracted by the laundry list of engagements she is now required to attend. “Ugh of course the princess horseback rides.” She groans, tossing the agenda haphazardly onto the bed.
“Speaking of which, how is the future Princess? What’s she really like?” Owen asked with genuine curiosity.
“Dunno.” Jamie honestly admits, “She didn’t say a word at all, but overall, she seems like a typical posh girl. The Queen on the other hand made it very clear she isn’t too keen on havin’ me here. So, this ought to be fun. But enough about my life. What’s goin’ on with you?”
“Well, if you must know,” Owens starts with a bashful look on his face, “I started seeing someone new.”
“That’s fantastic mate! Who’s-”
A sudden knock at her door prevents her from finishing that sentence.
“Sorry mate I gotta go. Duty calls.” Jamie whispers.
“No worries. Call me when you can.”
She ends the call, then pockets her phone before opening the door to her flat. There greeting her is the last person she expects to see: Princess Danielle.
Jamie quickly bows. “Uh, hello your Highness.”
“Hello Agent Taylor. I wanted to personally say how grateful I am for your services and that I look forward to working with you.”
Jamie was at a loss for words. She wasn’t expecting to hear this given the outright repugnance expressed by the Queen.
“Thank you, your Highness. That really means a lot comin’ from you.” She manages to utter once her brain catches up to the present.
“Glad we are on the same page. I also came here to collect you for our first engagement together.”
“Yes of course. Let’s get to it.” Jamie says as she straightens her tie and buttons her blazer.
The Princess smiles sweetly. Jamie found it reassuring that at least one person in the palace was not appalled to having her here. As they exit the apartment, Jamie clocks the Princess’s immediate switch from mildly happy to neutral demeanor bordering on indifference that remained intact for the remainder of the day.
By evening, Jamie was utterly exhausted from all the bowing, marching, and standing in silence. She lies on her bed, body fully splayed in her work clothes, contemplating passing out right then and there. But ultimately decides it would be frowned upon for the Princess’s personal bodyguard to go without showering and brushing her teeth. She wills every atom in her body to move as she sluggishly goes about her nighttime routine. As she exits the shared bathroom leading into the common room separating her room and the Princess’s, she hears a creaking sound and notices a flash of movement to her immediate right. When she glances over, she spots the Princess through the open door. Her long flowing golden hair bouncing as she dances around her room with her eyes closed and her ear buds in. Jamie was struck by how young and carefree she was in that moment. It was the most relaxed the Princess had looked all day.
Jamie retires to her room, tip toeing the length of the adjourned hallway as to not disturb the young royal. As she lies in bed, her thoughts drift to the Princess. She feels badly that her only time to let loose are these small hours in the night when she isn’t catering to courtiers or being watched like a hawk by strange government agents like herself. Still, she finds it comforting that the Princess might just have a shred of humanity in her after all. And maybe, just maybe, this mission wouldn’t be so bad after all.