❝ 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠? ❞

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The dinner was extravagant, the room filled with a kaleidoscope of gold and laughter, but Prince Henry felt none of it. He stood beside you, his hand at your back, playing the part of the perfect royal husband for the cameras. On the surface, everything was flawless: the picture-perfect couple, the perfect union, the perfect marriage. But beneath that polished exterior, Henry could feel the cracks growing wider, pulling at the facade that neither of you had ever truly been able to hold together.

It had started as a necessity, an agreement, and for a while, that had been enough. Duty had always been enough for him. But now, with every passing day, the weight of it all pressed on him—more than the crown, more than the public. And now, in the quiet corners of the royal halls, Henry was trapped by the very thing he had once believed to be his duty: this marriage.

Later that night, after the guests had thinned and the laughter had faded, Henry found himself alone on the balcony, his chest tight with frustration, you followed him and when you saw the exhaustion in his eyes, it struck you hard.

“I’m tired of this” Henry’s voice was quiet but intense, his back to you as he stared out into the city. “Tired of pretending. Tired of keeping up this image of us, when it’s not real. I never signed up to be a showpiece. And I can’t keep doing it. It’s wearing me down.”

“This is what we agreed on” you said, your voice sharp, though the sting of his words lingered in your chest.

Henry turned to face you, his expression bitter, his jaw clenched. “You think I don’t know that? But this marriage... it’s taken everything from me. My life, my choices. It’s even taken Alex from me.” His eyes flashed with pain as he took a step toward you, his voice rising in anger. “I lost him because of this. I lost the only thing that ever felt real, all for the sake of something that’s never been more than a lie.”