Your father, Prince William, sat in his gigantic throne in the middle of the altar. Next to him, you were sat. The next one in line for the throne. He was staring straight infront of him, a cold expression on his face as he glanced over at you once.

"Sit up straight."

His tone was cold, just like it had always been. You couldn't remember the last time he'd spoke to you as an actual father. Since you're mother died, he'd been the coldest man you'd known.