Durham House was like a mausoleum and I sat alone picking at my breakfast, stone-cold toast on my plate, doing my best not to think about the woman I’d left behind in the desert a few days ago. It didn’t seem right that she kept interrupting my thoughts at a time like this; the day of Frederick’s funeral. But there she was again, taking up space in my head… and heart.

The family was in crisis, yet keeping as far apart from each other as was humanly possible. My sister’s were keeping to themselves, and my brother, William, well, God only knew where he was.

I wasn’t even sure if he would turn up today. He was probably in some dive, drowning his sorrows no doubt. He was ignoring my calls and I was beginning to regret the harsh words I’d said to my father, backing William. Had I made a mistake and doomed the lot of us? But I knew I couldn’t think like that. I had to have faith.

The whole country seemed to be in mourning too. Every time I switched on the radio or the TV, Fred’s face appeared to haunt me. And yet, it wouldn’t be long before Penny’s image would creep out from the corners of my mind and take up residence again. God only knows what she was thinking now in light of my disappearing act. All I knew was that somehow I had to get back to her and explain myself, my need for her, and beg for her forgiveness, in person. For this definitely wasn’t a conversation that could be done over a satellite phone.

But when I would get the chance was a mystery. I felt like I had a responsibility to stay here. To be the stable one, to fly around like a helicopter-parent and make sure everyone was okay. Clearly they weren’t, of course. But I couldn’t very well abandon them either, could I?

I groaned. Loudly.

“You sound just how I feel. You got a hangover too?”

“Not bloody likely,” I responded, and in spite of myself grinned at a very dishevelled looking William. “Where the bloody hell have you been?”

“Oh don’t you fucking start. Two minutes in the door and I’m already getting an ear full.” William rang for footman, who came a moment later, and asked for a “shit-load of headache tablets.”

He joined me at the table and poured himself a cup of coffee. Black no sugar. I waited for him to offer up some sort of explanation as to where he’d been, but it wasn’t forthcoming.

“How long you been here anyway?”

“Long enough to know you’ve haven’t been here.” William rolled his eyes and I could see his patience was waning. “I got in late Monday evening.”

“Shit, mate. Didn’t realise. I’ve been here, but I’ve been dealing with some heavy stuff—”

“Yeah, really, you don’t fucking say,” I responded losing my temper with him. “We all have, Will.”

William pinched the top of his nose, which reminded me so much of our father, that it was almost comical.

“I don’t want to fight, Robert.” William studied the tablecloth refusing to meet my eyes.

“Then pull your shit together, big brother!”

“Whatever, I’m out of here.”

I got to my feet before he barely had the chance to move and pushed him back down into his seat. “Sit down and stay there. Get some food in you at least. You can not let Mother see you in this state.”

William looked up at me in puzzlement.

“Please don’t tell me that you don’t realise what day it is?”

He swallowed, closed his eyes and muttered, “Not a fucking chance.”

“And you’ll be there?” I said removing the edge from my tone. “You’re not going to do something stupid, right?”

“I’ll be there.”

The dejected look on his face as he uttered those words split my heart in two. Growing up as the third brother, whenever I was around Frederick and William I always felt like I was out of the loop, missing the punch line to a joke, two steps behind. It was like being a member of a secret club, but only having access to the lower tiers. They had their bond, their special language, and though we all shared a brotherly bond too, theirs was unique. A connection to be envied.

Not anymore… I didn’t envy the torment he was going through. William was going through a pain I couldn’t even comprehend. It was one thing to lose a brother, but another to lose someone who was your twin, your mirrored self.

I tugged at his arm and forced him to a standing position. He fought me at first, determined to brood and glower at me, but eventually he realised I wasn’t going to give up and faced me.

“What now?” he questioned. “You ordered me to sit and eat…”

I wrapped my arms around my big brother and tried to communicate without using words, that he wasn’t alone. He had me to lean on. And that I would be there for him. No matter what. “We’ll get through this unbearable day together, alright?”

* * *

Time was ticking down at a snail’s pace. It was as if the day did not want to progress through the hours, like it wanted to avoid the upcoming funeral altogether. The only problem was the longer time dragged its feet, the worse I felt. It was unbearable.

Before I left my rooms at Durham House, I caught a glance of myself in the mirror. Earlier I’d donned my ceremonial uniform, methodically putting each item and service medals in their rightful place. On autopilot. Going through the motions. Frederick wouldn’t have cared what I wore to his funeral, only it felt right to honour him and his previous years of military service in the navy by wearing the tight fitting and rigid uniform.

As I waited in the parlour for William to make an appearance, my hands clasped behind my back, I desperately tried to prepare myself for what was to come. I’d been in large military parades before, attended countless royal events that required stiff upper lips and resolute expressions. Yet this was something entirely different. I was entering foreign territory, unprepared and without training, a soldier dropped into combat without the necessary equipment… or brothers in arms. I squeezed my eyes shut and counted to ten, slowly expelling the repressed air from my aching lungs.

Behind me there was a creak from an opening door and a footman stood with a silver tray perfectly balanced on top of his gloved hand. “Your Highness, a letter just arrived for you.”

I nodded and claimed the envelope from the tray and was about to immediately tuck it away into the large front pocket of my dark tunic, when I stopped, noticing the elongated tail of the letter R. There was a distinct flourish to character; instead of it ending straight or even with a slight curve, there was an added loop before it joined up and flowed into the following letter.

My body froze.

It could only be from one person.

I couldn’t inhale, I couldn’t rightly exhale. My heart felt as if it had been stopped in time, trapped between beats.

I raised my eyes from the envelope to find the footman had already departed.

Slowly, limb by limb, the sudden stiffness abated, and I brought my hand to my mouth.

Fear ran through me.

How could such a small thing, the envelope was barely bigger than my palm, bring so much apprehension?

But that wasn’t the real question that was blaring loudly in my head. That was only a distraction to try and quieten the truth I so desperately wanted to know… or did I?

What was inside?

Furthermore, would I be better off not knowing?

* * *

Time had finally released its chokehold and allowed the particles of sand safe passage through the timer of the day. The funeral was over and I felt like my muscles could finally relax after holding them steady during the lengthy ceremony.

William, despite our words that morning, had decided to leave before me for the rendezvous at the palace, causing me to arrive a few minutes later than planned. I glared at him as I joined the rest of our family, but he paid no attention. You wouldn’t realise it at first glance, but he’d positioned himself off to one side, separate from the group, and looked to be in his own world. I decided to let him be, even though I wanted to tell him about the letter I’d received.

It could wait, I thought.

The mood was predictably sombre. I shook my father’s hand and kissed my mother on the cheek, who gave me a weak glance in return. Some semblance of recognition, and I had to wonder if perhaps the royal physician had found it necessary to give her something to dull the raw edges of the day, to make it a little easier to get through it. And who could blame her? Frederick, her most precious and favoured child had been taken from her.

She, nor my father, did not utter a word as we waited. The queen merely tightening her grip on her black lace handkerchief.

“I can’t believe this is real,” Charlotte whispered as I took my place, and stood beside my sisters; Charlotte on my left was dressed in a reserved, below the knee, black dovetail dress. It equalled the style of a heavy coat as it featured full length sleeves and a simple belt. Charlotte’s hair was similarly respectable. Her glossy brown locks were pulled away from her face and tied back. A small fascinator with a discreet veil attached partially blurred her downcast features.

“A veritable nightmare,” Victoria, on my right, responded her tone at a normal level, who clearly wasn’t making any allowances for who might hear her. I glanced down shooting a reproachful look at her, but she returned my gaze with fury blazing in her eyes. “Let’s just get on with it? What the devil are we waiting for?”

Vicky, the baby of the family, in contrast to Charlotte, had resorted to leaving her golden blonde tresses loose, though there was a absurdly large hat on her head, also with an attached veil, and she had chosen to wear what would be considered—in my family at least—a scandalously short A-line dress, long gloves that reached her elbows, all paired with heels that looked ready to break necks if given half the chance. I was surprised that Mother had allowed it, but then again she was lost in her grief. At least thankfully the colour was the appropriate black.

“Vic,” I warned, under my breath, and immediately cursed myself for saying anything; slipping back into the role that I’d been relegated while growing up. It was not my place to moderate or cool tempers—I was not their parent or governess—yet it always seemed to play out that way. Playing referee between Frederick and William when tempers flared, or pulling the girls apart when they invariably clashed.

“What? It’s a fair question. The sooner we go, the sooner we can get this torment over.”

Charlotte shook her head and leaned closer. “Just leave it, she won’t listen to anyone. Father’s already tried, your attempts will only make things worse.”

“I heard that,” Vicky announced.

Choosing to keep my thoughts to myself I stood in silence. If the army had taught me anything it was to be patient, the art of waiting. But not before taking Vicky’s hand in my own and holding it.

She stiffened. I could feel her penetrating stare but kept my head facing forward. After a moment, she shifted her stance and her arm relaxed, her hand now clutching mine in response.

* * *

Frustration was bubbling up inside me. I needed someone to talk to about the envelope that was practically singeing my no.1 dress blues.

I’d been right. The letter was from Frederick.

Taking a moment to myself after the funeral, to recover and re-establish my game face, I’d made the mistake of opening the letter.

I had so many questions.

Why send it to me?

What did it all mean?

Was the letter a coincidence or… I closed my eyes and found support from a nearby table. I was in relative safety of the library, away from the wake and meaningful, yet extremely annoying, well-wishers who stopped me every second step to pass on their condolences for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. Unlike William, my admittedly reserved demeanour didn’t allow me to ignore or dismiss their good intentions. Too polite for my own good, I thought.

It made me long for the relative informality of the camp I’d left… of the woman that made me want to spill everything, tell all my secrets too, and damn the blasted consequences. And though our time together had been limited and cut short, there was something within Penny’s kind eyes and her innate need to help that I knew she would’ve been the exact right person to talk to right then.

But she was thousands of miles away, probably never wanting to speak to me ever again.

I took one last look at the letter, rubbed the thick stationary between my thumb and finger as I read Frederick’s words, practically committing them to memory.

Taking my time to fold it back up, I placed the letter back in its envelope and tucked it away. No good ever came from making rash decisions.

Before anyone could miss me, I took a deep breath and slipped back into the fray. A scene was playing out in the ballroom, William was towering over a woman I vaguely recognised. His brow was furrowed, yet her face was set; equally determined as they had an unmistakeable heated exchange.

The woman crossed her arms as William turned from her. Neither looked like they’d won that round. It was interesting to see my big brother’s reaction as he walked away, he looked positively flustered. And it intrigued me. Was William having his own relationship issues with the fairer sex?

“Hey, where are you going? We need to talk,” I asked him, trying to keep up as he bolted out the room. He seemed intent on putting as much distance between himself and the woman he’d been warring with.

“Anywhere but here.”

Goddammit, I wanted to scream at him. Shake him till he stopped being such a bastard. Regardless I couldn’t leave it and followed him, deciding there and then to tell him about the letter in my pocket. It also occurred to me that perhaps I wasn't the only one to receive such a letter from Frederick. Was this the cause of Will’s latest outbursts?

“Slow down. I’ll come with you. It seems like ages since we talked and I do really need to discuss something with you… But first, who was that woman you were chastising? What did she say to make you so angry?”

“Robert, brother, I love you but please just leave it.”

“It must’ve been pretty bad for you to walk away like that. Any other time and you’d be right in there. She’s pretty.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not the time is it? And I don’t want to talk about it.”

Fair enough, I thought as he changed the subject.

“How long has the army given you?”

“They said that’s up to me. I could resign my commission and stay or go straight back after—”

“You’d be a fool if you stayed.”

“It’s not a bed of roses on tour either, you know.”

“Anything has to be better than here.”

“You don’t mean that. Surely?”

“Now more that ever.”

We each paused, contemplating the full meaning of his words and what it meant for our futures, and just when I thought now what as good time to ask if he’d received anything too from our dearly deceased brother, Vicky went sprinting by. Her high-heels were no longer on her feet but hooked over her fingers tips, clattering against each other, making a dull thudding sound that accompanied the fast gallop of Vicky’s stride.

“What the— We go better go see what’s wrong.”

“You go deal with her. I’m not in the mood for Vicky’s antics, not today of all days.”

“We should go together. Besides, two’s better than one,” I said as I tracked where Vicky had disappeared to. I hoped that he’d stick around so I could talk to him more, as well as provide some help with regards to our sister.

“Not anymore,” William shouted as he strode off in the other direction, already a fair distance away. I sighed.

“Remember we still need to have that chat!” I called, but it was pointless, he probably wasn’t even listening to me anymore. Though I could understand his reluctance with not wanting to deal with Victoria. I’d already heard from Charlotte how Vicky had nearly taken William’s head off, throwing dinner plates at him to get him to leave her alone. The little princess had always been a handful, but she’d also always been Frederick’s favourite… He’d doted on her. And to see the disappointment in Vicky’s eyes when William turned up instead of the brother she wanted, well, that must’ve been a stab to the heart.

Me, on the other hand, I could handle her defiant looks. Maybe it was something to do with being he middle child, and not putting up with any bullshit?

I knocked on the seventeen-year-old’s door but didn’t wait to be given permission to enter, or a chance for her to stack up furniture and bar the way.

As soon as I was in the room an object came flying at me. I shifted to my left as it narrowly careened inches away from my head and slammed into the wooden door. I stared at the point of impact. Vicky’s stiletto heel had dented the timber.

“You could have taken my eye out with that thing!” I yelled at her.

She wiped her eyes then threw the other shoe at me in response. “Fuck off!”

Luckily this time I caught the spinning shoe before it could do any damage. My palm smarted from the contact, stinging as I let her weapon drop to the floor. “That bloody hurt,” I said rubbing my hands together.

“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have caught it.”

“What and let you have another go at putting me into a coma? No danger anyway,” I said with a half-smile, “You have crappy aim.”

“Let me find another shoe and I’ll show you who has crappy aim.” Vicky started to search around her room looking for another missile. She picked up her phone close to wall near her dressing table. From the cracked screen the phone clearly had already been used as a projectile.

“Cut it out will you? I’m not here to fight.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re in here without my permission.”

“And? You got something to hide?”

“No,” she said her bottom lip protruding a little. She sat on the edge of her bed and crossed her arms, staring me down.

“Then why were you crying?”

“I thought that would be pretty obvious. Or was a new law passed that I wasn’t aware of? Is it now a crime for a member of the royal family to shed a tear at a fucking funeral?!”

I winced at her mouthy response. Victoria had never been subtle, but she’d always been brave. Yet from the quiver in her voice she was losing that battle.

“Can I sit?” I asked pointing to the spot beside her on the bed.

Vicky shrugged and sniffed. “You’re going to do it anyway.”

Taking that as a yes I joined her and angled myself towards her.

“I need your advice, I have a problem,” I started, which clearly surprised Victoria. By the expression on her face it was as if I’d just grown horns and a tail. That or I’d been transformed into an alien being.

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Vicky’s sharp green eyes narrowed.

“I’m still me,” I said with a chuckle, “though I can’t deny these last few weeks, this one especially, has had a certain effect upon me.”

“Can’t disagree with you there. So… what advice do you need from me, of all people? Is Charlotte not available?” Vicky said scornfully.

I ignored her jab and wondered if I was doing the right thing. “You have to keep this between you and me, okay?”

She was intrigued now, and her tears had evaporated. Vicky motioned a cross over her heart.

“I think I met someone…”

Vicky pulled a face, cocked her head to the side and rolled her eyes. “You think? You either did or you didn’t, Robert.”

“Okay then, I did.”

“So… what’s the problem?” She leaned back resting her weight on her forearms and studied me. Then her eyes went wide with horror. “Oh God, please don’t tell me you’re a virgin… coming to me for advice?” She pretended to gag then burst out into a fit of laughter, holding her stomach as tears streamed from her eyes and down her cheeks.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I scanned the room waiting for her to stop. I hadn’t exactly followed Vicky with a plan to have her giggling uncontrollably, maybe put a smile on her face, yes, but not this. But I couldn’t help but join in and playfully pushed her off the bed. She collapsed in a heap on floor, still clutching her sides, and gasping for breath in between the laughter.

“Just the thought… of you… asking me…” Vicky couldn’t quite finish the sentence as another round of giggles took her over.

I slid down next to her, my back against the bed and extended my legs.

“When you’re quite done,” I said, the grin still on my face.

She waved her hands close to her face, batting the air. “Oooh dear, I haven’t laughed like that since…” Vicky trailed off and the giggles died. Though a partial, but sad, smile still remained.

“Certainly tickled your funny bone. But if you must know, the answer is no, I’m not.”

“Thank fuck for that,” she said and fished in her nearby clutch purse for a tissue to wipe the corners of her eyes. “And thank God for waterproof mascara.”

“When did you get such a mouth on you?”

“I learned from the best… my brothers of course.”

“Not from me. William maybe.”

“Maybe.”

“Why aren’t you speaking to him?”

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answers to, Robert?”

“Fair enough. But don’t take it out on him, okay?”

She shrugged and waved my suggestion away. “Changing the subject… back to you. You have me curious now. What’s she like? Or he?” Vicky said wiggling her perfect eyebrows.

“She… She is… there’s no words for how special she is.”

“You got it bad!” Vicky’s shoulder nudged into mine as she smiled up at me.

“Maybe I do but what with everything going on, it doesn’t seem right or fair, or even appropriate that I pursue it.”

“Fuck fair! Life’s too fucking short for all that bollocks.”

“Christ, Vic, that mouth… are you about to join the Royal Navy?”

“Hadn’t considered it, actually. Like father would let me… Anyway, I say go for it.” Vicky paused, a seriousness came over her. She caught my eye and held it. “What would Frederick want you to do?”

My mouth parted, lost for words.

All the questions I wanted to ask tangled themselves up like unruly electronic cables. Why had she asked it like that? In such a way that implied she knew about Frederick’s letter. Was it merely coincidence, in light of the day we’d gone through? Attending a funeral was top of the charts, demonstrating how fleeting life was. Maybe I was reading too much into her question.

“Bertie! What would he want you to do?” she asked again, this time prodding me in the ribs.

“Ow. Stop it. And quit calling me that. You know I hate it.”

“Answer the question, and I will.” She jabbed me again.

“I don’t know,” I lied.

“ERRK,” she squeaked doing a fine impression of a buzzer on a tacky TV games show, “wrong answer. Don’t be such a bloody coward.”

Trust my seventeen-year-old sister to show me the error of my ways and lay down some truths.

“You know exactly what he would want you to do. So stop bugging me and go do it. Go on.” Vicky smiled and pushed me hard and kept doing so until I was forced to stagger to my feet. “Out!”

“Fine!” I said laughing. “But what about you? I came to see if you were alright.”

“Right as the English rain, big brother.”

She followed me to her door, but I wasn’t about to leave that easily. “Are you sure? You can tell me anything and no matter what it is it won’t leave this room. That I can assure you.”

Vicky patted my arm. “I was just upset is all. You know what cousin Amelie is like, she can be a such a bitch. She caught me off-guard and I let it get to me. I’ll be fine, promise,” she reassured me.

I studied her face for any sign of deception, but either there wasn’t any or Vicky had become a master at lying.

“Want me to have words with her?”

“No, Bertie. You should know this by now, I take care of myself and those that wrong me.” Her eyes twinkled with a look of revenge.

“Well, if you ever need help hiding the bodies, you know the doctor to call,” I said as I matched her mischievous grin and pulled her into a hug.