Philip


In hindsight, I admit I should have handled everything much better. Much, much better than I did. In fact, between my therapist, my wife and myself, I have come to realise that I am deeply ashamed of my actions at the time. Honestly, I am ashamed of myself, unlike anything else I have ever felt ashamed of. This is by far, my most shameful act. If my actions and my hurtful, hateful words to Henry could be recalled at the snap of my fingers, I'd recall them in a heartbeat. But unfortunately, the damage is done, and although I am trying in earnest to undo the damage, I fear I shall never be close to Henry again. Certainly not like he and our sister, Beatrice is.

Admittedly, the whole thing caught me quite off guard. I didn't have even the foggiest of clues until the leak hit the papers and my Equerry woke me that fateful morning. My Equerry following the orders of their superior, in this case, the Queen's personal secretary, Tommy.

Martha was woken when I was and when she heard the news, she too was sobbing in sympathy. I must admit that I did snap a few harsh words at my wife. Her sobbing wasn't helping the situation.

I was angry and I wasn't entirely that I was only angry at the media. It's like any drama, we prefer to have it contained before it hits the media. If it can be buried completely and never see the light of day, so much the better. That's the Royal way. It's the way it has always been and Henry had learnt that from a young age, just as I had.

I think I operated on autopilot in the shock of it all. Martha warned me not to go roaring down to Kensington Palace half-cocked, that all I would do was make things worse. Of course, I didn't listen to her, and she was right. How could I listen to her? Gran was calling me as soon as I got in the car. She was nothing but explicit in her detailing of how exactly how I'd failed in my duties, as heir to the throne because of my brother's actions. How this embarrassment and how his proclivities had brought shame upon us, our family, and the Crown. How disappointed she was in me that I hadn't lived up to her expectations of me. As if that wasn't enough, Henry had mentioned in extreme detail, the circumstances surrounding Beatrice's car, her addiction, her rehab and the lies they had told the media to explain it. The whole thing knocked me for a six and I felt unhinged, and not in a positive manner.

Listening to Gran detail all of my shortcomings due this drama, on the ride over to KP, had made me angrier than I had ever been before. I that anger, I barged my way into the palace like I owned the building. I was prepared to let my anger out on Henry. I was not prepared to be all but assaulted by my own sister. She wouldn't even let me near Henry. She was guarding him like a lioness would guard her cubs.

I would never hit a woman, but in my anger that day, I found myself the closest I have ever been before, to doing just so. At the last minute, I caught myself and threw a vase, instead. As it shattered into shards of porcelain and I took stock of what I had just done, I was horrified to see that I had destroyed a treasured British artefact. None of other that, it had been one of the most beloved vases that had belonged to none other than Anne Boleyn. Gran was going to slaughter me when she found out.

After multiple attempts to get Beatrice away from Henry, so I could reason with him, I had no choice but to relent. Before I could return to Martha at home, Tommy Lazerick, the Queen's personal secretary summoned me to a meeting at Buckingham Palace with our Gran. In that meeting I received another dressing G down, this time in person. It was the first time that she had ever directed her cold-heartedness at me. It made me feel a small modicum of sympathy for Henry and to a lesser extent, Beatrice.

I returned back to the home I shared with my wife, my tail firmly between my legs. I was hoping that I could have something to eat and fall into bed. But no such luck awaited me. It was there and then, Martha decided that it was high time to lay down a few facts of life for me to extrapolate.

1) Being lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer, or anything else in the spectrum was ok and acceptable - regardless of if you're a royal or not.

2) She reminded me that my dear friend whom I had known and been mates with since kindergarten, all the way through school and had served with in the service - Andrew Howard was indeed gay.

3) She also told me that she had not been planning to read the emails but was struggling to understand what had happened. So, she had. And when the time came, she would be honest and tell Henry the truth, because she owed him that much, as his sister in-law.

4) She refused to tell me what she had learnt, but she suggested that when I did read them, I'd change my feelings about Henry.

5) She suggested that in order for me to understand my brother, I would have too as well.

6) She reminded me that I may be King one day in the future, but that day is not today. Nor will it be when our grandmother has shuffled off her mortal coil. That between Gran and I, is my mother. That she will be queen before I am king.

7) She reminded me that Gran's mind is not of the modern way of thinking. That these days it is socially unacceptable to be a bigot. To be racist, to be sexist, it is all simply unacceptable. That the monarchy, and nobility, as a whole, is a very conservative institution and if it didn't want to be abolished, it needed to move forward with the times.

8) That this was the perfect chance to show the people of the United Kingdom, that the monarchy is adapting and modernizing. That it recognizes that social mistakes have been made in past. That this is a chance to rectify the public's thinking.

9) As the oldest child of the Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor line, I should have been responsible for building my siblings up, not tearing them down. That I should not have taken advantage of my mother's grief and let our grandmother run roughshod over my younger siblings. That it was my job to protect them.

10) I should have taken a harder line with my mother to wake her from her grief. To show her how all of us was struggling. Martha reinforced to me that yes, all of us, including myself was struggling. Whilst Bea was battling her addiction and Henry was being forced into the closet, I too was in mourning. That I had thrown myself into my military training and into becoming gran's puppet (her words, not mine). That I had been hellbent on tearing them down, so they felt as bad as I was feeling.

The thing was, I had been so blinded by Henry's part in all of this, I hadn't realised that Henry's had a boyfriend for the better part of a year. That the boyfriend in question was none other than Alex Claremont-Diaz, son of the American President and as if that didn't complicate things further. The fact that he, alongside Henry, was ousted meant that whether Gran accepted it or not, there was no way for her to force Henry to lie. The political fallout between our countries would be too great for her to risk.

I didn't sleep a wink that night. I told Martha I was staying up, to mentally regroup and go over my strategy for attempting to bypass Beatrice to get to Henry. She was rightfully so, angry at me for my behaviour today but I was struggling to swallow my own pride and admit that my wife had made very valid points.

The words of Henry's emails taunted me. It wasn't hard to get my hands on a copy of them all. Anyone with google could access them, and that made me angry too. In his emails to Mr. Claremont-Diaz, Henry's words were poignant. They were flirtatious and romantic, melancholic and wistful too. They were deep and they were meaningful to them. They did not paint me, Gran or the Royal Family in a positive light.

Mr. Claremont-Diaz's words leapt off the pages with his love for my brother. They were gratuitous and rambling, open and loving, yet vulgar and sweet at the same time. However somehow reading them, you could feel his love exude for Henry from them with every syllable. If his words were anything to go by, Henry had even met his sister and best friend, too. They claimed to adore him too. The conversations they had in their emails were deeper than most all conversations I'd ever had with Martha, and she was my wife.

Reading about Henry's first time, with a friend of mine, who had managed to seduce him in his grief, while under the influence had been painful. It had made me angry all over again for another reason entirely. This time at myself. I was the one who had taken Henry to that party. I, not knowing of Andrew's sexuality at the time, asked him to take care of him. I trusted Andrew and he had abused that power. He raped my brother, for all intents purposes. Henry had been so inebriated at that party, he couldn't tell anyone his own name, let alone consent to anything. My blood was boiling at Andrew. Once all this was over; I would be dealing with him too.

One thing in all of this I did not understand, was how the hell two men in their position had gone from a strict PR friendship to becoming actual friends, to lovers. Of course, they'd never release the emails that didn't incriminate Henry's platonic friendship with the man. Only those that showed a romantic relationship. Or those that were vulgar.


I tried again the following morning; this time it was Henry's Equerry and Beatrice who kept me back. Rather forcefully I might add. Beatrice was extra snarky, and it was only Henry's Equerry explanation that the palace had issued lock down orders, and they had all media devices confiscated that I realised that Gran was going to deny it, regardless of the consequences. That's why she removed all of the media devices. She wanted to control the narrative, despite the fact that Henry admits that he is gay in an email.

It wasn't until I had surrendered my fight, that I realised, I didn't even physically see Henry today. Meaning he either wasn't awake or was keeping to his room. It wasn't until I was back in the car, and we were driving away from KP, I recalled reading that Henry had been formally diagnosed with clinical depression and suffers from anxiety. An illness that he is medicated for. I just hoped he hadn't fallen into a depression from this. I hoped Beatrice and Shaan were at least making sure he was taking his medication. I also promised myself that if Gran wanted to refute that claim too; I would make sure she wouldn't forbid him from having his medication.

I tried again after my meeting with Gran. But no luck. Martha came down and we chose to spend the night at Clarence house, to be close to Gran and close to Henry, if he decided to speak to her. She didn't know about the media lockdown for him, and by extension, Beatrice. I spent the night at Clarance House with Martha physically, but my mind was on Henry.

I am embarrassed to admit, I had a small breakdown to Martha. As much as I had taken what she had said the night before on board, I knew it in my bones that my duty was to the Crown first, and my family second. I hadn't anticipated in Martha storming off from me, slamming our bedroom door. Only to return a moment later, all het up and steaming mad. "I thought you were a man of integrity and compassion. I thought you were an honest man, Pip. But I can't stand by you and let you treat your own brother this way. Tell me something, would you treat your own son the way you're treating Henry."

She stood there, hands on hip, angrier than I had ever seen before in my life. When I didn't answer her, she stormed out. Her fiery temper was on full display, and for the first time in all of this, I feared Martha might leave me for good.

Selfishly, I took a sleeping tablet and went to sleep. Sleeping a whole eight hours.


Trying again in the morning, I was once again met with resistance in the form of Henry's equerry and a woman I had never seen before in my life. She didn't say a word, but she exuded something that made my fear her, more than my own wife. Shaan had given me a look of disappointment, and admittedly, it was a look that my father would have given me, had he been alive today. I didn't try too hard. Gran's equerry had scheduled a meeting for 10am that morning at Buckingham Palace for Henry, Beatrice, Shaan and me.

When they arrived at Buckingham, I was immediately sent to Gran's study. She wanted me to back her up on everything. I kept my protests to myself when I discovered she was planning to blame artificial intelligence and claim that the emails were fake. Never mind the fact that the other man in question was the president of the United States son. I may not have liked my choices, but what option was left? I had a duty to my country, above all else. in time Martha and Henry would forgive me.

What I was not prepared for when they entered the room; was seeing Mr. Alex Claremont-Diaz in the flesh, holding Henry's hand and standing tall. I risked a glance at gran, and it was clear, she had not expected him either. The woman who had been with Shaan that morning, was back and she and the first son spoke in low tones to one another. It was clear that she was his handler. What absolutely no one else seemed to be prepared for was the unexpected appearance of mum.

Mum hadn't attended a family meeting about royal business since dad had gotten sick. Beatrice seemed the only one really not surprised. Henry seemed shocked too, but he also seemed confident, prepared. Like he knew that she was going to support him.

When everything unfolded and unraveled, I knew I would be apologising and groveling to Martha. As well as to Henry. They both certainly deserved it. I guess I owe Alex, Henry's boyfriend a sort of apology.

Gran had been censored and I could have scarcely believed it myself. mum seemed to have fought her at every turn. I had no idea how this had happened, but I was secretly pleased for it. To see our mother awake and willing to stand up for us. In a small way, I was hurt that it hadn't happened sooner. Maybe if it had, I wouldn't be as disconnected to Beatrice and Henry as I am now. Maybe Henry might have confided in me. Felt he could have trusted me to come out. I was not impressed, in that meeting to learn that Gran had known all that time, having suspected and investigated Henry behind his back and not have told me.

Seeing our mother send Shaan, Henry, Alex and the woman I now know is Zahra Bankston, chief of staff to the President from the room, chilled me. I was wholly unprepared for my own mother to turn to me. Ice cold anger running through her veins and have her detail exact how disappointed she is in me. That my thoughts and my beliefs were not those in which she and my father had raised me with.

"Honestly, Philip!" My mother cried, ignoring the scoff from her own mum. "You are so far under my mother's thumb you have forgotten that your first duty is to your family. That is how your father and I raised you. We didn't raise you to treat your own family this way. I am strongly suggesting you speak with a therapist about your lack of sympathy and compassion for your brother. What if it was your own child who was gay? Would you still behave like this?"

Gran had tried to interject on my behalf and the look my mother shot her sent a shiver down my spine. My mum was, before dad's illness and death, a happy, friendly, outgoing woman. But the look she had shot my grandmother, made me quiver in fear. I could have sworn I saw Gran shiver too. It was unlike something either of us had seen from her before.

That was the third time a woman I love had posed that question to me. First Beatrice, although she hadn't asked me in a kind and caring way like mum and Martha had. Rather she was rude, abrupt; her tone had been cold and calculating. Clearly, I was missing something so fundamental.

I asked my own equerry to have a list of therapists prepared to vet, before slyly suggesting he seek out Shaan for his input. Next, I set about Clarance House looking for Martha. Before one of the staff informed me, she had packed her bags and headed back to Anmer Hall.


Finding Martha in her dressing parlor of our bedroom suite, I mentally braced myself. I knew at this point she was angry. She had tried to make me see reason, and rightfully so. But I had refused. My ego hadn't allowed me to listen to her. I hung my head in shame, as I let myself in. Apologizing was always hard for me. Not because my parents never taught me how to; but because Gran had always instructed me that an apology was a sign of weakness. When I would apologise, she would smack my hand with a wooden ruler and remind me, that as a monarch, it is not my place to apologise to anyone for anything that I do. That as monarch, your word is gospel.

I managed to utter the words, "I'm sorry," to Martha. but they were too little or no use at all. She went to leave the suite, into the sitting room. There was one thing I knew about my wife to be true; she refused to argue with me in any of our marital rooms, that included our bathrooms and dressing rooms. Here in the sitting room, it was a whole other game.

Joining her in the sitting room, I waited for her to say something to me. She did not and it made sweat that much harder. "I suppose you will want to know what happened in the meeting, today." I was testing the waters, dangling the cherry, in case she took the bait.

She did not. I relayed everything to her in technicolour detail. Everything about Henry. About Alex. About Beatrice. Shaan. That Zahra woman. Gran. My mother. She sat still and said nothing. I told her of Mark's return from her cloud of grief. Of Henry's declaration of love for Alex. Of Alex's steadfast support, love and determination to have Henry as his boyfriend. I finished with my mother's edict of therapy, including a retelling of the icy glare my mother sent my grandmother. Nothing.

She sat there and said nothing. She stayed in complete silence. For almost a whole half hour before she made a sound. It was a small sigh. "I suppose you think you will have therapy, and everything will be all better?" She finally said, and that shiver I had felt from my mother, and from that Zahra woman was back, and it was coming from my own wife.

At this point I wasn't above begging, only just. It was in the back of my mind as a last resort. "I feel at this point, it is only fair to tell you that I have been in contact with both Beatrice, and Henry." She said again, after a moment of contemplation. "Regardless of where you stand, Henry, and Alex have my unwavering support. I know all about today. I also know that your objections went far beyond the sole fact that Henry is gay. That they, alongside the Queen's, were as much about Alex as a person, that they were about Henry's sexuality. I am not sure I can spend my life with a man who can be so hurtful to his own brother. Homophobia, I expected; the xenophobia I did not."

I groveled. I literally got down on my hands and knees and begged her. Begged my wife for forgiveness. She gave me the terms of her forgiveness in a simple list. Her terms of acceptance.

1) Go to therapy and keep going to therapy.

2) Reflect upon this incident and make a list of everything I could have done better.

3) Show Henry and Beatrice that I am still their brother.

4) Prove to them that my actions are backed up by words.

5) Apologize. - I admit, this one I know I am going to struggle with.

6) Show my outward support and acceptance of Henry for who he is. A man who is a gay prince, for Henry my brother, Henry who is the boyfriend of the First son of The United States. Put out a joint statement with Martha, alongside the formal Buckingham Palace decree, in support of Mr Claremont-Diaz and my brother's relationship, acknowledging Alex as his Royal Suitor.

7) I am to make more of an effort with my mother. Take her advisement under and keep her abreast of my progress within my own therapy.

8) Assist Henry and Beatrice, if requested, in helping them set up their respective foundations and publicly show my support for them.

9) Issue an invitation to Henry and Alex to join us for dinner. In doing so, make genuine efforts to get to know Alex, as Henry's partner.

10) Deal with Andrew Howard and his predatory behaviour of Henry. Do so in a way that is punishable, yet discreet. Henry didn't need more attention on him.

That list was given, with the promise that when each of those obligations are met, only then will Martha be open to discussing an heir, and not beforehand. That was her ultimatum. "I am not about to procreate with a homophobic, xenophobic man who hates his own brother because of who he loves." She told me.

I relented, because what choice do I have?