Chapter Text
Henry couldn’t stand it anymore. He swore if he had to fake one more smile or politely nod along to another brainless conversation, he would explode. He didn’t understand why his presence was required anyways. His grandmother and brother were there, surely they must cover the necessary royal attendance for a state dinner.
Glancing through the crowd at the balcony doors, he debated whether it was worth it to try and sneak out for a breath of fresh air. He barely made it two steps before he was interrupted.
“Prince Henry, such a pleasure to see you tonight.” He mustered a smile as he turned to face the elegantly dressed woman.
“Ah, Ms. Lambert,” he immediately recognized the Foreign Secretary. “The pleasure is all mine.”
“You're too kind, Your Royal Highness.” She smiled as she took a sip of her champagne. “I must say, it's always refreshing to see a young royal at these events. I do hope you are enjoying yourself?”
Years of practice makes the lie slip off his tongue with ease. “Indeed, Ms. Lambert. The evening has been delightful. I daresay it would be hard not to enjoy yourself with such an attendance as this.”
Ms. Lambert chuckled. "Ever the charmer, Prince Henry. A credit to your family, as always." She raises her glass with a twinkling simple.
Henry barely manages to suppress a grimace, quickly lifting his champagne glass to his lips as well. He had heard variations of it countless times over the course of the evening – that he was a symbol of his family, of tradition and history, blah blah. He swore if he heard it one more time, he would throw up.
“It’s wonderful to see you all carry on such a beautiful legacy.”
“You are too kind, Ms. Lambert.” He somehow manages to keep his voice even despite the lump in his throat. She goes on but Henry can’t bring himself to listen. The clinking of crystal glasses and hum of polite voices is buzzing too loud in his ears and he swallows down the urge to tug at the stiff collar of his suit.
“I must say,” her voice suddenly pulls him back, “We are honored to have such a noble family as yours to represent our nation.”
Henry nods, a tight smile playing on his lips. He knows it’s meant as a compliment, but her words leave a bitter taste on his tongue. He tries to swallow down the sour feeling and focus on the conversation, but the hammering of his heartbeat is getting too strong to ignore.
“I’m sorry ma'am,” and he’s suddenly fighting to keep composure. He needs to get out of here now, even if he will get an earful about it later. “I just remembered an urgent matter that requires my attention.”
Ms. Lambert's brow furrowed. “Oh, is everything alright?”
“Yes, yes nothing to worry about.” He clenches the champagne glass more tightly to stop his hands from shaking and he knows he has just a few more seconds before his facade entirely crumbles. “Please excuse me.”
And before he can dwell on his vague attempt at an excuse, he’s pushing through the sea of sparkling dresses and crisp suits toward the balcony doors. Pushing past the glass doors, the cold air stings his face and he stumbles forward.
Shit, he hopes no one saw that. His feet make their way down the stairs and to the gardens on autopilot until he collapses onto the nearest bench, away from prying eyes.
This part is always the worst. It feels like he’s thrown back into his body all at once, the carefully crafted mask of perfect, proper, Prince Henry crumbling away and all that’s left is panic. Fingers clumsily yank at the collar and tie that choke him as he desperately tries to pull in a deep breath and slow down his pounding heart.
But even without the fabric hugging his neck, the air still feels too thin. A string of curses leave his mouth when a wave of dizziness hits him. Fuck, get it together. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he’s not sure how much time exactly has passed when finally he manages to pull in a complete breath.
He slumps back against the bench, hands trembling as he wipes away the wetness from his eyes. The puffs of his shuddering breaths are only interrupted by the distant sounds of the party as he stares up at the stars. God, he wishes he could fly to another galaxy right now. Far away from the crown and the cameras.
By the time the lightheadedness fully subsides and he feels somewhat like a functional human again, the hum of the party is gone. Shit, he must have sat here longer than he thought. Now he can only pray that his absence went unnoticed.
Quick steps carry him back into the palace, where the room is empty albeit for a few of the staff clearing away the remains of the dinner. He smiles and nods to them, relieved that he wouldn’t be receiving a lecture tonight for his disappearance. He’s been getting on the Queen’s bad side far too often lately.
Ducking out of the lavish room and into the hall his heart drops to his stomach at the sight of his grandmother before him.
“Ah I was wondering when you’d be back.” Her eyes are cold like every time Henry has managed to disappoint her with some minor inconvenience.
“I apologize for my absence, I-”
She raises her hand and his words fall to the floor like dead leaves. “We will discuss your misconduct in the morning.” A frown overtakes her features as she studies him closer. “You look absolutely disheveled.”
She stalks off without another word.
Henry’s fingers rub his forehead in exhaustion as he watches her disappear down the hallway. Fuck.
The palace corridors are dimly lit, casting long shadows as he makes his way to his room. He peels off the layers of his suit, throwing them haphazardly on the floor in a way that would make him get an earful from Philip. But he couldn’t bring himself to care, collapsing into bed.
The night passes by too quickly. After rolling around in an unrestful sleep, Henry resigns to dragging himself up for breakfast in the early hours of the morning. He’s surprised to see the kitchen already occupied.
“Bea, you’re up early.” He grabs a mug from the shelf and pours himself a cup of tea from the steaming pot that’s standing on the counter.
“Oh hey Hen.” She pulls out the chair next to her with a smile and he slides into it.
“Rough night?” she asks, as he softly blows on the steaming mug.
“You could say that,” he replies, taking a careful sip.
“Grandmother giving you a hard time again?”
“When isn’t she?” He gives a chuckle but there’s no humor behind it.
Bea smiles at him softly, but the sadness is clear in her eyes .
“Well, how about we do something fun later? We could go for a walk in the West Gardens and have some tea in the pavilion by the lake.”
“Sure.” He manages a small smile. “If grandma doesn’t kill me in the meeting.”
Bea rolls her eyes at him, but gives a small squeeze to his shoulder.
His heart feels heavy in his chest as he knocks on the wooden door and steps inside the bright office.
“Ah, Henry.” Queen Mary looks up from her paperwork. “I trust you've had a restful night.”
He nods, knowing better than to offer excuses. “I apologize for my absence yesterday.”
The Queen leans back from her desk. “Your improper behavior reflects poorly on the entire monarchy, you know this. Yet I find myself having to say it to you time and time again.” She releases a drawn out sigh. “You are not some commoner; you are a Prince, and your duties extend beyond personal desires.”
Henry swallows the lump in his throat. “I understand. It won't happen again.” There was no point in rationalizing or trying to explain. Whenever he had tried, all it had brought him was lectures on composure and that, at age 22, he was expected to have some self control.
She studies him for a moment, her gaze piercing. “I've made a decision. These instances have become far too frequent. From now on, you'll have an additional security detail to ensure you are where you're supposed to be, when you're supposed to be there.”
His eyes widen in surprise. “Security detail? Grandmother, I don't need a babysitter!”
“If you act like a child, you will be treated like one,” she retorts sharply. “This is not a request, Henry. It's a necessity to maintain your reputation.”
“Grandmother, please,” he’s fighting to keep his voice from sounding too desperate. “I can handle my responsibilities. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
“Your recent actions certainly suggest otherwise.” She pauses as her eyes soften a bit. “Henry, this is not a punishment; it's a measure to ensure that you fulfill your obligations. We simply cannot afford any more lapses.”
Before he can protest again she’s turned away from him, glancing at the time.
“Now you’ll have to excuse me. I have a meeting with the prime minister in ten minutes.” And Henry has no choice but to bow his head and leave.
And when he heads down the hall and hears a second set of footsteps trail behind, it makes him want to throw up.