“This has to be a joke. Who put you up to this?” I demanded as I read and reread the official message that was handed to me and glared at the officer.

“It’s no joke, sir,” the communications officer said while staring blankly at me. After I’d rushed to my quarters, shoved on my uniform, Mark and I had legged it to the designated tent. Hopelessly I looked to him for answers, but he merely shook his head then lowered it.

“I couldn’t believe it either. But it’s right there in black and white; they’re ordering you home.”

“Back to England. But what for?”

We stepped out of the communications tent, out of earshot.

“This makes no sense. My time isn’t done here. I have weeks left still.”

“Fuck, this is bollocks. We’re going to be down a surgeon,” Mark exclaimed, expressing the rage I so wanted to.

“This is my father’s doing. It has to be,” I muttered.

“What are you going to do?”

“An order is an order isn’t it? And I’m a soldier… I have to obey. But first I’m going to find out why. I’m not leaving my post until I know the exact reason. The colonel will know what this is all about.”

“You better be quick, I think they have you scheduled to fly out on the next transport.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Mark’s eyebrows rose at my unprecedented expletives.

“Don’t look at me like that. This couldn’t come at a worst time.”

“You’re telling me, mate.”

I left Mark and headed back into the tent and demanded to be connected with my superior officer. It didn’t take them long to get him on the line. It was almost as if he was expecting the call.

Over the crackling connection the deep tones of Colonel Johnston came through. As soon as he spoke I knew it was serious.

I swallowed as I listened, hoping I’d misheard. But beside the occasional electronic click he came through loud and clear.

“Can you repeat that, Colonel?” I asked even though I knew it was a futile endeavour.

I closed my eyes and digested the information.

Tightening my grip, my hand squeezed the life out of the receiver and my jaw clenched. My stomach flopped, as if I were in a transport aircraft that had lost an engine, plummeting several thousand feet.

“Captain? Are you still receiving me?”

I coughed and opened my eyes. “Yes,” I responded, my voice cracking.

“Wheels up in ten. You’re required to be on it. Your replacement is already inbound. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Colonel. Right away, sir.”

I handed the heavy receiver back to the comms officer standing beside me. I stood paralysed, waiting for the news to fully kick in. But it didn’t seem real. In that moment nothing did.

A voice interrupted my dark trance.

I blinked and moved my head towards the voice.

“Sir,” he said looking at his watch. “You don’t have much time. We’ll make sure to send your gear on after you. There should be a car waiting for you outside.”

“Of course,” I nodded and somehow, on wobbly legs, made it back out into the sunshine. Dazzled by the unconscionable brightness I struggled to hold back the tears. How could the day look so damn pleasant after the news I’d received? It was as if the weather was taunting me.

The open-top army Jeep pulled up alongside me almost immediately. The waiting officer sat behind the wheel in dutiful silence.

Across the way the medical tents fluttered in the breeze. Penny was in there somewhere, a few hundred metres away, but it could’ve been the other side of the world for all the time I had.

There wasn’t time to say goodbye. To tell her how I really felt or to finish our interrupted conversation. It felt like it had happened hours ago, and yet so much had changed in the few minutes since I’d been forced to leave her.

There wasn’t even time to send a message to her… to explain.

“Fuck!” I shouted and headed towards the waiting dusty beige vehicle that would take me to the airfield. Away from my precious Penny.

Would I ever see her again?

Only time would tell.

* * *

“It’s only been a few days and you’re already discussing this, like it’s nothing of consequence? You can’t be serious! I’ve barely had time to process losing Frederick and now this?”

My brother was dead and they dared to… I abruptly stood and stared incredulously at the two men sat across from me. There’d been no time to change. I was still in my khaki fatigues, dirty and tired after a long journey with several connecting flights at military airbases along the way. But after nearly twenty hours I was back and it was worse than I thought possible.

On the left I saw my future in the features of the man I called Father, King Henry of England. His face had weathered many storms, this one being the worst.

Only a few months had passed since I’d last been in his presence, but he’d changed quite dramatically. My father’s suit practically hung off him, his collar’s were loose around his thin neck, and his hands had a slight tremble to them, which he was clearly trying to hide by gesticulating more often. I hoped the physician to the king had taken note of it and reminded myself to bring it up with my father when I had the chance.

Losing my brother Frederick, the heir to the throne, so unexpectedly, had also added extra creases and created a persistent haunted look in his no longer sharp blue eyes. Though he was doing his damnedest to stare right back at me with all the strength he had.

Beside him, in a matching wing-backed chair, my maternal grandfather sat, his fingers steepled together. Despite the events of the past few days, Prince Albert, the Duke of Cambridge looked exactly the same as he had for the last twenty years or so.

“I’ve thought about this long and hard, my dear boy. Your brother William is clearly not fit to follow in my footsteps.”

“What and you think I am?”

“In light of William’s recent actions, not to mention his torrid past, he’s demonstrated that he’s not up to the task. You on the other hand, have a sterling record.”

“Bloody hell, give him some time to grieve. He’ll come around. He’s just lost his twin brother, for Christ’s sake!”

“Yes, and I’ve just lost my first born!” my father yelled as he got to his feet. “I do not want to also lose my country too by putting an irresponsible child on the throne!”

“He’s not a child!”

I shook my head and paced around the room, unable to believe that I was having this conversation. My eldest brother was dead and the first thing my father wanted to discuss was who would now be his successor! Frederick’s body hadn’t even been recovered yet.

The king breathed heavily, collecting himself. My grandfather encouraged him to sit back down and pushed a tumbler towards him. The king shook his head and ignored the drink, clamping his hands together.

“There’s never going to be a good time to talk about this. Never. But here we are. We have to get on with it whether we like it or not.”

I rolled my eyes. The king was practical to a fault.

“You don’t give him any credit,” I said as I returned to face them. “William will surprise you… if only you give him a chance. Just you wait and see.”

My father kneaded the bridge of his nose.

“Maybe the boy is right?” Albert mused.

“I know I’m right,” I said forcibly. “William may not be Frederick, God rest his soul, but he’s my big brother, he’s never let me down before. He will make us proud.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” my fathered said, unable to look at me. “So is that a definite no? You won’t even consider my request?”

I sat heavily on the chair, pausing to gather my thoughts. Being third in line for the throne I’d barely contemplated being in this position, but now I’d been violently shunted forward. It made me sick. I should not be rewarded in light of a tragedy and yet this was how things worked. Someone died and you’re bumped up the ladder. And now for my father to ask me to leapfrog my only remaining living brother was unspeakable.

Calmly I chose my words carefully and leaned forward.

“For all of our lives tradition and obligation have been with us every step of the way as we grew up. It was drilled into us. We couldn’t go to normal schools, or have normal lives. Over time we accepted it, more so than most. But regardless we went along with it because tradition dictated that it was so. Our lives had already been mapped out and we came to terms with it. We followed the rules, we did what you wanted, we did what the country expected… and now when it suits you, when you don’t like what will happen to your legacy, you want to throw all that away as if none of our sacrifices meant anything? You’re a hypocrite.”

“It doesn’t suit me—” my father said, defeat in his voice.

“I’m not finished! You have to give William a chance. You have to let go of the reins and let him be. He will find his way. William will make you proud. But let’s be frank, shall we? If for whatever reason, when the time comes, that William does not want to sit on that blasted throne and abdicates, I will do what is expected of me. I will do my duty as the next in line. But not before then, not before he’s even had the chance to comprehend and come to terms with his new place in this godforsaken family! Do you understand?”

The old men shared a resigned look and nodded.

“Good. And so help me… if I hear you dare to skip over me and go to Lottie with this nonsense and offer my sister the same deal, then I will, hand to God, leak what you are trying to do to every tabloid and news organisation out there. You want to throw tradition out the window? Try it. I dare you. Let’s see how far you get when the people revolt and how quick this monarchy dissolves into obscurity.”

“You’ve made your point, Robert,” Albert said sternly.

“I fucking hope so.”

My father blew out a lungful and resigned himself. “Right then. We’ll do it your way, son… on your head be it. I’ll make the necessary arrangements to get William the help he needs going forward. Miss Mortimer was Frederick’s private secretary, wasn’t she? She will do nicely.”