The arrival of Prince William in 1982 and, just over two years later, Prince Harry, signalled to the world that the fairy-tale union of Charles and Diana was complete.
It would be several more years before she took the extraordinary step of revealing to royal author Andrew Morton, in tape recordings she insisted be kept secret, that their marriage had collapsed, reports the Daily Mail.
The book he wrote - Diana, Her True Story - made headlines around the world.
Now, 20 years after her death, it is being republished - with the transcripts of those tapes:
When I first arrived on the (royal) scene, I'd always put my head down. Now that I interpret it, that did look sulky.
I've never sulked. I never sulked as a child; it's just not in me.
But I've been terrified out of my tiny little mind. I was just so frightened of the attention I was getting. It took me six years to get comfortable.
One minute, I was nobody; the next minute, I was Princess of Wales - mother, media toy, member of this family, you name it. And it was too much for one person at that time.
Basically, my husband's office got in a turmoil because one minute, there was one (royal to look after), and the next minute, there were two.
And the presents coming in from the wedding were so phenomenal - from a swimming pool, to a desk set, to a photograph frame to six dining-room chairs. Chaos! I ended up writing my own thank-you letters.
Eventually, we sorted out something and I had Oliver Everett (former assistant private secretary to Prince Charles) come back to help me. I drove him quite potty because he pushed me into a corner that didn't suit. There were basically lots of tears. From me!
Edward Adeane (Prince Charles's private secretary from 1979-85) was wonderful - we got on so well. He was very much the bachelor - and I was always trying to find him the ideal woman, but I didn't succeed at all. He was sweet.
He said: 'I know some nice ladies who might be ladies-in-waiting. Will you come and see them and meet them?'
So I said 'yes' to them all, even though I didn't really know them, and one or two have gone by the wayside, but the others have remained very strong - and I've gathered a few on the way as well.
Stuck-up Liz Taylor didn't help at all
What I can remember is that I didn't want to do anything on my own. I was too frightened.
The thought of me doing anything on my own sent tremors, so I stuck with whatever Charles did. If that included a wife, I went with him all the way - wherever.
But the pace was phenomenal. I knew I couldn't do engagements as well as get married, plus doing up two houses.
One of the very first royal engagements was with Elizabeth Taylor. It was a play at the Victoria [Palace] Theatre called The Little Foxes. I remember I turned up in a fake white fur coat, and all the antis came out against me for evermore. So that went back into the cupboard, never to be seen again.
I was pregnant with William and it was agonising because I didn't find Elizabeth Taylor very easy to talk to. I thought she was stuck-up. I'd hoped she'd help me out because she'd been on the stage, in inverted commas, more than I had. I remember getting through that evening feeling amazed.
(Another engagement was switching on the Regent Street Christmas lights.)
I remember wearing a pair of navy blue culottes with a pink shirt, and I felt so sick. I couldn't do them up because I was pregnant, but I didn't have anything else to wear. And I was so nervous. I had to make a speech in front of the whole of Regent Street. I was s*** scared.
Christmas at Sandringham was highly fraught. Terrifying and so disappointing. No boisterous behaviour, lots of tension, silly behaviour, silly jokes that outsiders would find odd, but insiders understood. I sure was an outsider.
I hadn't got enough background on what the Princess of Wales was supposed to do. It didn't get easier - I just got used to what people required from the Princess of Wales.
Princess Grace was an outsider - like me
When Grace (Princess of Monaco) died (in 1982), I said to Charles: 'I feel I'd very much like to represent your mama at the funeral,' and he said: 'Well, we'll have to ask her, but I doubt she'll let you go."
And I said: 'Well, I think it's important, because she was an outsider who married into a big family and I've done the same, so it would feel right.'
I went to (the Queen's private secretary) Philip Moore, who said he didn't think it would be possible because I'd only been in the job three or four months. And I said I could do it perfectly standing on my head.
There was no worry about that. I knew exactly how to behave etcetera, etcetera, and I wanted to be a part of Grace's funeral because I admired her so much; she was so sweet to me.
So I went to the Queen and I said: 'You know, I'd like to do this,' and she said: 'I don't see why not. If you want to do this, you can.' And I said: 'That would be marvellous, thank you.' I went there, did my bit, came back and everyone was all over me like a bad rash: 'Oh, you did so well!'
And I thought: 'Well, interesting.'
Make-or-break time on the Australia tour
The first foreign trip we took William on was Australia and New Zealand (in March 1983, with the nine-month-old Prince the first royal baby to go on an official overseas visit).
Make-or-break time for me. This was the real hard crunch, the hard end of being the Princess of Wales.
There were thousands of press following us. We were away six weeks, and the first day we went to this school in Alice Springs. It was hot, I was jet-lagged, being sick. I was too thin.
The whole world was focusing on me every day. I was on the front of the papers. I thought that this was just so appalling - I hadn't done something specific, like climb Everest or something wonderful like that.
However, I came back from one engagement and I went to my lady-in-waiting, cried my eyes out and said: 'Anne (Beckwith-Smith), I've got to go home - I can't cope with this.' She was devastated, too, because it was her first job.
So that first week was such a traumatic week for me; I learned to be royal, in inverted commas, in one week. I was thrown into the deep end - though now I prefer it that way. Nobody ever helped me at all. They'd be there to criticise me, but never there to say: 'Well done.'
Basically, our tour was a great success. Everybody always said, when we were in the car: 'Oh, we're in the wrong side, we want to see her - we don't want to see him.' That's all we could hear when we went down these crowds - and obviously he wasn't used to that, and nor was I.
He took it out on me. He was jealous; I understood the jealousy but I couldn't explain that I didn't ask for it.
It was very tricky, mentally, for me, because the crowds were just something to be believed. My husband had never seen crowds like it, and I sure as hell hadn't.
Everyone kept saying it will all quieten down when you've had your first baby, but it never quietened down. Never.
Charles desperately wanted a baby girl
Between William and Harry being born, it is total darkness. I can't remember much. I've blotted it out. It was such pain.
However, Harry appeared (on September 15, 1984) by a miracle. Charles and I were very, very close to each other the six weeks before Harry was born, the closest we've ever, ever been and ever will be.
Then, suddenly, as Harry was born, it just went bang, our marriage: the whole thing went down the drain.
I knew Harry was going to be a boy because I saw on the scan. Charles always wanted a girl. He wanted two children and he wanted a girl. I knew Harry was a boy and I didn't tell him.
Harry arrived, Harry had red hair, Harry was a boy. First comment was: 'Oh God, it's a boy.' Second comment: 'And he's even got red hair.'
Something inside me closed off. By then, I knew Charles had gone back to his lady, but somehow we'd managed to have Harry.
Charles went to talk to my mother at Harry's christening and said: 'We were so disappointed - we thought it would be a girl.'
Mummy snapped his head off, saying: 'You should realise how lucky you are to have a child that's normal.'
Ever since that day, the shutters have come down - and that's what he does when he gets somebody answering back at him.
Harry was a complete joy and is actually closer to his father than perhaps William at the moment. Charles loved the nursery life and couldn't wait to get back and do the bottle and everything. He was very good - he always came back and fed the baby. I breastfed William for three weeks and Harry for 11 weeks.
I chose the names William and Harry because the alternative was Arthur and Albert. No, thank you. There weren't fights over it. It was just a fait accompli.
The Pope thought I was having a baby!
With President and Mrs Göncz of Hungary (on our trip in 1990), I had an instant rapport. I got out of the aeroplane and we held hands.
Extraordinary - it felt so normal, me doing it. It was on the front of all the papers at home. I remember thinking: 'What's so odd about that?'
I also had an audience with the Pope (John Paul II in 1985) - I thought that was rather wonderful, very special. I was totally overwhelmed.
I was so intimidated by the set-up. When you're sat there with this man in a white frock, it was quite strange.
He had recently been shot (and severely wounded by a Turkish gunman). I said one thing to him. I plucked up courage and said: 'How are your wounds?'
He thought I was talking about my womb! So he thought I was having a baby! So after that mistake, I went very quietly.
On our trip to Spain (April 1987), I wasn't well at all - tiredness, exhaustion, bone-tired. I told everybody I was tired, but it was the bulimia taking a grip of me.
Portugal was the last time we were close as man and wife. That's going back six or seven years ago now (February 1987). Charles's snoring could be heard through two doors. Four times a night I'd be woken up. He just got fed up and went into his dressing room. And then it became a habit.
Then there was Majorca (on holiday with the King and Queen of Spain in 1986), the first trip I spent my whole time with my head down the loo.
I hated it so much because they were all so busy thinking Charles was the most wonderful creature there's ever been - and who was this girl coming along?
And I knew there was (a quality) inside me that wasn't coming out, and I didn't know how to use it - in the sense of letting them see it. I didn't feel at all comfortable in that situation.
Charles was thrilled with his silk pyjamas
On the day I got engaged, I literally had one long dress, one silk shirt, one smart pair of shoes and that was it. Suddenly, my mother and I had to go and buy six of everything.
We bought as much as we thought we needed, but we still didn't have enough.
Bear in mind you have to change four times a day, and suddenly your wardrobe expands to something unbelievable.
Hence, probably, the criticism when I first arrived on the scene of having new clothes all the time. Three seasons and I had to deck myself out from January to December overnight with hats, gloves, the lot.
After that, I asked Anna Harvey from Vogue, where both my sisters had worked, to come and help me out with the basic things.
But once I got to know established names, like Victor Edelstein and Catherine Walker, I could ring them up and talk to them myself.
I couldn't have fashionable clothes because it wouldn't have been practical for the job. I had to have clothes that could last all day long, in sensible colours and sensible necklines and skirt lengths.
I never knew a thing about having weights in hems (to prevent skirts from blowing up in the wind). I found it all out in my own time. No one helped with that.
Charles had an awful lot of clothes, but actually very little (that I liked).
For instance, he had ghastly Aertex pyjamas that were honestly, simply hideous, so I bought him a silk pair, that sort of thing - and shoes.
They were well received. He was absolutely thrilled.
The press attention was like Marilyn Monroe publicity. She only had to click her heels and the whole world was at her feet. It was very odd.
I'm never comfortable in it. Never ever. I was absolutely mesmerised by the whole thing. I couldn't believe it.
(The Royal Family) all thought: 'Oh, she's got lots of press - she must be doing all right.' One of the worst things that ever happened was when we went to Wales after the flooding (in 1987).
There'd been a tremendous amount of press about Charles and I being apart, and we got into the jet and I burst into tears.
He said: 'Oh God, what's the matter?'
And I said: 'I've had a very bad time with the press.' Because they'd literally hunted me.
And he said: 'Well, if you were in the right place, none of this would happen,' indicating that I should be up in Scotland. But I said: 'I choose to work, because that's my role in life.'
And it was terrible - he completely ignored me.
It was a real cry for help. I wasn't blubbing because I'd just turned the taps on. It was just desperation. And it showed in all the photographs.