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Catherine-The Hollywood Transformation

Catherine's riveting journey as she reinvents herself in the glittering yet cutthroat world of Hollywood. Since 1993, Catherine has been a consistent contender for the Academy Awards, though she seldom attends the ceremonies, preferring to avoid the anxiety and potential disappointment of losing. Renowned for creating perfect roles for many stars, Catherine credits her success to a mysterious spark of inspiration.

Juny_Luis · 都市
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68 Chs

At Buckingham Palace (1)

Buckingham Palace was brilliantly illuminated. The reception hall, already lavishly adorned with ivory and gold, had been redecorated, making it even more magnificent and opulent.

"God bless Your Majesty," the old duke knelt on one knee, performing a perfect courtly bow that would put many to shame. At his age, he could have been excused from such a gesture, but the old duke regarded royal protocol more highly than anything else.

"It's been a long time since I've seen you, Duke," Queen Elizabeth II said with a warm smile, then turned her gaze to Catherine standing beside him.

The little girl gracefully curtsied, this time actually holding the corners of an imaginary skirt, but fortunately, her grandfather did not require her to be as perfect as he was.

"Cathy, you've grown taller," Her Majesty's smile remained gentle.

Though surprised that Queen Elizabeth II still remembered her name, Catherine didn't show it on her face and smiled back, saying, "Thank you, Your Majesty."

She found it curious. After all, the Albert family was on the farthest and most minor branch of the British royal family tree, so why was her grandfather always invited to royal gatherings? Could it be that her grandfather and Her Majesty shared some secret? Catherine entertained the thought irresponsibly.

Coming to Buckingham Palace was indeed a chore. Even though modern etiquette had been simplified considerably, the royal family still had its own rules and traditions. For a young girl, following these was a rather painful ordeal, but what choice did she have when her grandfather had something over her? Thankfully, there were still people within the royal family who made the visit pleasant—not Prince Philip, who stood by Elizabeth II, nor Prince Charles, who followed behind with a perpetually grim expression, but the poised English Rose at Charles' side.

In her previous life, Catherine hadn't known much about Princess Diana. She had only a vague understanding of the emotional conflicts between Diana and Charles, with her most clear memory being the car accident six years later, which she only learned more about after watching the film The Queen.

To be honest, Diana wasn't the epitome of stunning beauty, but she possessed a unique charm that naturally drew all eyes to her. She was also down-to-earth, no wonder she was called the People's Princess. While Catherine didn't idolize her, she was still deeply attracted to her.

Although the little girl wanted to chat with the Princess after the dinner—just as she had done before—those two princes were a nuisance. See? They were already looking in her direction. Harry, at least, smiled at her, but William raised his chin, his nose in the air, and snorted. Catherine secretly rolled her eyes. What a stuck-up kid, with his nose so high in the air—did he think he was a pig?

Tonight's New Year's family dinner had nearly a hundred guests, all non-immediate members of the royal family. The attendants had prepared an extraordinarily long table, and with the opulent decorations, those seated at the far end would definitely not be able to see Her Majesty the Queen. But it was the children who were seated at the end—who would care if they could see the Queen?

Once seated, Catherine kept her mouth shut. The etiquette for dining with the royal family was far more complex than at her grandfather's estate. Although her mother had always been strict in teaching her proper behavior, knowing what to say and when required quick thinking. The best way to avoid saying the wrong thing was to say nothing at all. Though surrounded by children, most of them were strangers, so why bother mingling with them?

The luxurious and sumptuous dinner felt oppressive to Catherine. Aside from Her Majesty's slightly novel New Year's toast, the rest of the evening was as usual. People spoke softly and politely to one another, their movements graceful, their faces smiling, but there was always an invisible barrier between them—even among the children. No wonder Princess Diana felt so sad. It was a place no one who valued freedom would enjoy—this was a sentiment the little girl reflected on each time.

Fortunately, the chefs at Buckingham Palace were quite skilled. British cuisine was limited to a few varieties—like butter pudding, roast lamb, salmon, wild duck, and in the summer, ice cream—but in their hands, these could always be transformed into delightful dishes. While she couldn't feast to her heart's content, savoring each bite wasn't so bad.

The dinner didn't last long. After all, Westerners didn't like to settle everything at the table, unlike Easterners. The highlight of the evening was yet to come—the ball.

The New Year's ball was held in the largest room in Buckingham Palace, the Royal Ballroom. This ballroom was one of the largest rooms in the palace, built in 1850 specifically for Queen Victoria. The hall was decorated in white and gold, with giant crystal chandeliers hanging from the semi-circular ceiling. The upper walls were adorned with scenes from the Wars of the Roses in the 15th century.

The ball commenced with Her Majesty the Queen and her husband taking the first dance, followed by the Prince of Wales and the Princess of Wales. However, it was evident that Charles wasn't in high spirits, and their dance ended rather abruptly. Observing this, Catherine thought for a moment and understood the situation. In 1992, the relationship between Charles and Diana had hit rock bottom, and what she was witnessing now was merely the precursor. Even though their dance was brief, they didn't display anything out of the ordinary. It seemed that the direct members of the royal family had naturally mastered the art of concealing their true feelings.

Once Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip had seated themselves on the grand chairs, the ball officially began. The gentlemen started inviting their preferred partners to dance. But her grandfather was an exception; he remained standing by her side, inviting no one. Catherine understood his feelings. After her grandmother had passed away when she was six, her grandfather never remarried. The love between them might have seemed calm on the surface, but it ran deep and strong.

Thus, Catherine's strategy was to stay hidden behind her grandfather as much as possible, avoiding being invited by other boys—especially a certain stuck-up little prince. Otherwise, with her habit of finding it hard to say no, her heels would surely be swollen by the end of the ball.

But, as the old saying goes, the more you try to escape something, the more inevitable it becomes.

"May I have the honor of this dance, my fair lady?" A voice came from behind. Though the words and tone were formal, the mischief barely concealed in his voice was unmistakable.

Catherine rolled her eyes and turned to face the 10-year-old Prince William, who had somehow snuck up on her, his eyes glinting with smug satisfaction. She ground her teeth involuntarily. If it had been someone else, she might have mustered the courage to refuse, but with her grandfather standing beside her, she simply couldn't say no to this little brat.

"It would be my pleasure, Your Highness," the young girl managed to conceal her gritted teeth and took William's hand.

Hand in hand, they entered the dance floor, gliding among the adults to the tune of The Blue Danube. Catherine struggled to keep up with the rhythm while making sure not to step on her dress hem. There were few things she wasn't good at, but dancing was one of them.

"William, you did this on purpose," she couldn't help but mutter fiercely into the little prince's ear after a quick turn.

William raised an eyebrow smugly and, during another turn, whispered into Catherine's ear, "Indeed, I did. Since you're hailed as a genius by your mother, surely you can figure out how to keep your heels intact until the dance ends?"

You little devil! Catherine cursed inwardly. She knew that as a prince, William would never do something unbecoming of his status, but his leading her back and forth like this was infuriating. This was precisely why she disliked dancing—men always took the lead in partner dances.

If only she hadn't teased this vengeful brat during that summer out of curiosity! The little girl gritted her teeth and persevered, taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Each step was becoming more painful, the discomfort in her heels growing. Fortunately, the heels weren't too high, just barely tolerable. But as if the pain wasn't enough, she also had to endure constant physical contact with William, which made her slightly nauseous. It was strange—she hadn't felt this way when she was around Edward Furlong a few months ago. What on earth was going on?

After thinking about it briefly, Catherine pushed the thought aside. She didn't have the luxury to dwell on it now; she needed to survive this dreadful moment first. Thankfully, they weren't dancing too closely. If William had to hold her by the waist, who knows if she might not impulsively throw the prince over her shoulder!

Finally, the dance ended. Catherine's cheeks were flushed, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, her face glistening with sweat in a way that gave her a certain allure. She glared at William, hissing, "Are you satisfied now, Your Highness?"

But there was no response. Catherine frowned, and upon closer inspection, she realized the little devil was staring at her, unblinking. She felt a bit uneasy. Seeing that the orchestra seemed ready to play another tune, she quickly gathered her dress to make a swift exit. However, in her haste, she heard a soft snap as her right heel gave way, causing her to stumble to the right. Fortunately, before she could make any dramatic movements, someone had already caught her from behind.

"What a pity, Miss Genius. You managed the entire dance splendidly, but couldn't hold it together until the very end," came the teasing voice—there was no need to guess who it was.

"I never knew that the second in line to the throne could be so petty," Catherine huffed without turning around, prying his hand off her. Why did this feel so familiar? The last time, someone else had caught her in the exact same way—what terrible luck.

"Hey, hey, I think you should be thanking me instead. Otherwise, you'd have made quite a spectacle just now!" William's tone was tinged with annoyance.

"Then I am very grateful, Your Highness," the little girl retorted, throwing him a large eye-roll before walking back to her grandfather without a backward glance.