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People always wonder what the best part of being a royal is. They assume it must be the fame, the fortune, the throne waiting for you to shape the world to your will. Henry knows better. Fourth in line to a throne he'll never inherit, Henry knows that best part of being a royal is that if you ask nicely, people will give you a key to just about anything. Which is good, because otherwise he would have had to break into the Victoria & Albert Museum and risk being apprehended. Granny would have a stroke if he was caught behaving in a manner so unbefitting of the Crown. After all, the most important lesson he'd learned as a royal remains: Don't get caught.

So, everything considered, its good Henry had a key. Nothing could have kept him from this place tonight. This place being a somewhat secluded chapel tucked away in the back of the V&A. A plaque near the entrance explains that the apse once belonged to the fifteenth century Santa Chiara in France. As much as he may love history, the chapel's past is not what brings him here. He honestly has never understood what continues to draw him here. All he knows is that every time he sits in front of the statute of the Blessed Mother, he feels slightly less like an abomination. He's not sure why—he's not particularly religious and even if he was, a church should be the last place he felt comfortable—but it works and he's not one to question a gift too intensely.

Henry knows his attachment to the place is irrational, but with the royal wedding tomorrow he had to come. Thankfully, it is not him, but his brother—the crown prince—who will take the vows tomorrow. After the wedding, Prince Phillip and his new wife will quickly fulfill their royal duty and produce heirs, pushing him down further down the line of succession. Good, he thinks. I've never wanted to be king. Let them. I could never take the throne anyways. Henry knew he had far too many skeletons lurking in the closet to ever rule. But the chapel helps settle him. It may sound silly, but ever since he was a small child he imagined come here with the love of his life. They would dance slowly in front of Mother Mary and she would bless their union. Deep down though, he knew this could never be. Love was not for him. So he stared up at her, alone.

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As Prince Henry stood on the alter next to his brother and watched his soon to be sister-in-law glide down the aisle, he could not help but to think of his own future wedding. It would be much like this. All royal weddings are the same, really. A prince, decked out in his military best, and woman he doesn't love joined forever in law. His wedding would really be no different from Phillip's, then. And he knew the time was coming. He was already 22 and Phillip had begun to drop hints that it was time for Henry to find a lady of appropriate noble standing and begin a courtship.

He could opt to serve in the military and delay things a bit that way, but, oh, who is kidding. He has no say in the trajectory of his life. The family business is military, so he will serve and that will be that. It does not matter how personally distasteful he finds this military business, it is his royal duty to serve. Knowing his country was responsible for centuries of colonization and genocide certainly makes the pill harder to swallow, but he learned long ago that he had two choices. The first being that he could do what was expected of him or, the alternative, he could fight a battle he would inevitably lose and then do what was expected of him. So he might as well cut to the chase and do as he must. And if it happened to keep the hounds at bay for a few extra years before his more intimate duties became necessary, so be it.

Anxiously, he tore his eyes away from from the incoming bride. It would not do to have these kinds of thoughts today. Unfortunately, in breaking his gaze away from Martha, his eyes instinctively found Alex in the crowd of onlookers. Alex, First Son of the United States, was his rival in the press, and, in Alex's own words "his nemesis." Though he supposed Alex may not actually remember saying that to him, as their interactions typically occur after Alex has had a few cocktails.

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