The rain in London fell as if the sky were collapsing.
Outside the iron gates of Buckingham Palace, flowers piled up like mountains. Cards soaked by rain, ink smudged, the words "People's Princess," "Forever Remembering Diana" blurred into a sea of sorrowful blue.
Inside the palace, the atmosphere was even gloomier than the weather outside.
The Queen finally appeared.
She sat in a high-backed chair in the study, an elderly woman in her seventies, with deep eye bags.
Looking at the five men standing by the long table, her shoulders tightened, "Forty-eight hours, we've lost the last bit of dignity of the Royal Family. The newspapers worldwide are publishing my daughter-in-law's... those kinds of photos."
The Prime Minister's face turned pale.
Standing behind him were the Minister of Internal Affairs, the heads of Military Intelligence Five and Sixth Department, along with the Duke of Windsor, the Queen's cousin, the actual handler of the Royal Family's crisis management.
