Kate Middleton walks into the royal jewel room and serves it to Meghan Markle.

It’s Thursday morning in Kensington Palace and staff begin to drop their dusters, shuffling from the corridors with haste as the whispers begin to circulate. Kate Middleton is on the move.

Stepping away from her laptop, Kate has just discovered that she – the Duchess, the wife of the heir to the throne of Britain, the mother of two of the most adored children on earth – is not filling the news feed of countless humans around the world for the third week in a row.

All the palace staff will tell you, it's been this way since the news of Prince Harry dating "the American" broke.

And now, all people want to know about is Meghan Markle's family and career and Harry's intentions and what their official combination couple name will be.

"Marry" hardly works, because the younger Prince is known to be a commitmentphobe, but "Hegan" sounds too rough; too Scottish.

But whatever the outcome, Kate is not happy.

Where are the articles about George's socks? Why doesn't anyone care about Charlotte's bows anymore? Kate's fascinators? Her ability to carry a spade while still looking regal?

Storming through the Victorian double doors, Kate glares at a butler before making her way to her preferred chaise lounge. Sighing, she lights a tobacco-free cigarette and takes a long, stress-filled drag.

"It all comes down to strategy, Giles," she says to the butler who's actually named Arthur.

"We've got to find a way to get Back.On.Top" she says emphasising the final point of her sentence by tapping her tobacco-free cigarette down on the rim of an ashtray once gifted to the Queen by the Shah of Iran.

"We've got to do something big. Something topical, yet timeless. Something feisty, but of the family," she continues, staring at her hair's perfect reflection in a Napoleonic mirror.

"It might be time to buy another Corgi," Kate says sighing, depressed at the thought of yet another waddling loaf of bread occupying her space before remembering that there's an event at Buckingham Palace that night honouring Britain’s diplomatic community.

Coughing, Arthur replies, "What about wearing one of Princess Diana's crowns to the charity event tonight, ma'am?"

Shaken from her thoughts, Kate smiles a menacing smile. "Giles, you've got it. That's perfect."

Standing, she continues, "Cambridge."

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Arthur says confused.

"Cambridge. It's got to be the Cambridge Lover’s Knot tiara. The Queen gave it to Diana as a wedding present," she says schemingly.

Arthur is confused and Kate can tell.

Sighing, she explains, "it sends a message, Giles. It says I am more than just a maybe. I am more than a girlfriend; a dalliance. It says I am this family."

Sitting at her dresser later that day, Kate has just been left by her hair and makeup team. The tiara sits perfectly upon her delicate head, as thought she were born to wear it, she says.

William enters, looking at his phone screen laughing at a video of a dog experiencing snow for the first time.

"You look nice," he says non-committaly, only looking up from his screen partially.

"You look...." he stops, taking in her outfit for the night, seeing his mother's tiara sitting atop his wife's head for the first time. "Is that?" he asks trailing off.

"Yes," Kate replies smiling coyly.

"You aren't still mad about this Meghan thing are you?" he asks while removing his dinner jacket.

"Of course not," she says lying.

"Granny won't be pleased," William responds knowing full well that once his wife has made up her mind, there's nothing set to stop her.

It's one of the many traits inherited from her mother. A genetic trait amongst commoners, perhaps, he thinks while making a mental note to ask a neurologist about it when he next has a minute.

"Oh, rubbish," Kate replies. "She understands. Besides, I haven't had a single headline to myself in an entire month now. That's hardly fair, is it?" she asks now pouting.

As the car pulls up to the palace an hour later, the photographer's flashes are blinding.

"KATE! KATE! TO THE RIGHT, KATE. TURN FOR US. WHO ARE YOU WEARING, KATE?" the journalists scream.

Knowing she's set to hit the headlines, Kate raises her hand to wave, smiling wider than she's ever smiled before.

"Who's the shinier and sparklier one now, bitch?" she whispers through gritted teeth.