The full seriousness of all this was finally starting to sink in.
If Granny said no…would I have to say goodbye to Meg? I couldn’t imagine being without her…but I also couldn’t imagine being openly disobedient to Granny. My Queen, my Commander in Chief.
If she withheld her permission, my heart would break, and of course I’d look for another occasion to ask again, but the odds would be against me. Granny wasn’t exactly known for changing her mind. So this moment was either the start of my life, or the end. It would all come down to the words I chose, how I delivered them, and how Granny heard them.
If all that wasn’t enough to make me tongue-tied, I’d seen plenty of press reports, sourced to “the Palace,” that some in my family didn’t quite, shall we say, approve of Meg. Didn’t fancy her directness. Didn’t feel altogether comfortable with her strong work ethic. Didn’t even enjoy her occasional questions. What was healthy and natural inquisitiveness they deemed to be impertinence. There were also whispers about a vague and pervasive unease regarding her race. “Concern” had been expressed in certain corners about whether or not Britain was “ready.” Whatever that meant. Was any of that rubbish reaching Granny’s ears? If so, was this request for permission merely a hopeless exercise?
Was I doomed to be the next Margaret?
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
If Granny said no…would I have to say goodbye to Meg? I couldn’t imagine being without her…but I also couldn’t imagine being openly disobedient to Granny. My Queen, my Commander in Chief.
If she withheld her permission, my heart would break, and of course I’d look for another occasion to ask again, but the odds would be against me. Granny wasn’t exactly known for changing her mind. So this moment was either the start of my life, or the end. It would all come down to the words I chose, how I delivered them, and how Granny heard them.
If all that wasn’t enough to make me tongue-tied, I’d seen plenty of press reports, sourced to “the Palace,” that some in my family didn’t quite, shall we say, approve of Meg. Didn’t fancy her directness. Didn’t feel altogether comfortable with her strong work ethic. Didn’t even enjoy her occasional questions. What was healthy and natural inquisitiveness they deemed to be impertinence. There were also whispers about a vague and pervasive unease regarding her race. “Concern” had been expressed in certain corners about whether or not Britain was “ready.” Whatever that meant. Was any of that rubbish reaching Granny’s ears? If so, was this request for permission merely a hopeless exercise?
Was I doomed to be the next Margaret?
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.