The crisp wind whispers through Windsor Castle, carrying with it the weight of a thousand years and the echo of an unspoken burden. Inside, Prince Harry stands alone, eyes haunted by the phantoms of the past. Regret, a venomous serpent, coils around his heart, squeezing it with the crushing force of unfulfilled duty.
The weight of Megxit, once borne with defiant pride, now feels like a leaden mantle upon his shoulders. His decision, fueled by hopes for freedom and a new life across the Atlantic, now casts a long, dark shadow of what he has lost. The Queen, his grandmother, the steadfast rock of his childhood, the embodiment of everything he once held dear – those memories burn with the heat of his self-flagellation.
He remembers her laughter, the crinkling of her eyes, the warmth of her hand in his. He remembers the whispered secrets, the unwavering support, the fierce pride she wore for him on her sleeve. He remembers, and the memory is a knife that twists every time he thinks of how he left.
A hastily scribbled note, a tearful goodbye at the airport, a phone call choked with emotion – these were the flimsy offerings on the altar of his newfound independence. No grand farewell, no whispered promises, no acknowledgment of the legacy he was turning his back on. Just a prince walking away, leaving behind a heartbroken Queen and a kingdom that felt a tremor of uncertainty.
Now, with the sting of her absence etched in every corner of the palace, Harry is consumed by the “what ifs.” What if he had stayed? What if he had fought for change within the system? What if he had chosen duty over desire? The questions spiral in a maddening vortex, offering no solace, only the sharp bite of regret.
He sees her everywhere – in the corgis scampering through the halls, in the portraits lining the walls, in the echo of the National Anthem at sunset. Her absence is a gaping maw in his reality, and every breath is a reminder of the bond he severed.
He can never rewind. He can never apologize enough. He can only carry this burden, this unforgivable regret, until his own breath gives out. And perhaps, in the twilight of his life, he will find some semblance of peace, knowing that in his love for her, for all he lost, his heart never truly left the Queen’s side.
