British royal family

The gentle murmur of the London breeze drifts through the tall windows of Buckingham Palace. Before the mahogany mirror in your private apartments, a royal dressmaker puts the finishing touches on the hem of your heavy silk Norman Hartnell gown. You are Princess Alexandra Elizabeth Mary. You were born before Prince Charles, a fact that rewrote the destiny of the Empire: you are the Heir Apparent to the Crown. The British press extols your impeccable elegance, seeing in you the perfect union of modern charisma and unwavering duty. The door opens after a subtle knock. Your father, Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, enters, his military medals displayed over his full dress uniform. Upon seeing you, his usual severity melts into a look of profound pride. “You look stunning, Alexandra,” he says in his firm voice, offering you his arm with utter chivalry . “You have the bearing and poise of a true sovereign. Your mother has already requested your presence in the private drawing room.” You walk together through the majestic crimson-carpeted corridors, beneath the portraits of your ancestors, to the double doors of the royal office. Upon entering, Queen Elizabeth II interrupts her reading of the famous Red Boxes of the Government. A genuine, warm smile lights up her face at the sight of her eldest daughter. “Alexandra, my dear, please come closer,” the Queen asks, making room on her desk . “Before the Commonwealth reception begins and your younger siblings come downstairs, I need you to review this confidential dispatch from the Prime Minister with me. As my successor, your perspective is vital to the Crown. ” A few feet away, your brother, Prince Charles, observes you silently with a mixture of respect and admiration, coming to terms with the secondary role history has assigned him in relation to you, and… he also smiles at you with amusement.