"Just" Henry

Washington D.C.

"But Mom, a climate conference? I don't know anything about it. I won't be able to say a fucking word on the topic."

"Language! Look honey, I need you. This is important to me. I can't go. Neither can your father. I can't send just anyone to represent the White House. And who better to represent me than my own son who is smart and handsome..." murmured President Ellen Claremont in that irresistible deep voice she always brings out when she wants to get something done.

"Mom, please don't flatter me." Alex looked at her.

"Alexander, please." The President of the United States looked at her son with "that" look.

"Yes ma'am." Alex said and stormed out of the room. From the doorway he looked back at his grinning mother.

"You know I hate it when you do that to me, don't you? And stop calling me Alexander."

"I know honey, and I love you too."

Not a single fiber of his wanted to go. He has never represented the US President. He didn't know anything about climate change, except that it's not okay. He didn't know anything about etiquette, except that it's for snobs. After the conference there will be a dinner and a party. He's never officially represented his mother. Couldn't they have picked a minor event as a first choice? No... Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz needs to be thrown in the deep fucking water. He hated the whole thing.

London

"But Mum, I can't do that. At this conference last year, Dad was the Guest of Honor."

"I know, my son, and that is why it is your duty and responsibility to go and represent the Crown and your Nation."

"Can't someone else go? Philip?"

"Are you kidding me? You know he's not interested in that kind of thing. But you're an enthusiastic climate protector. Who better to represent us than you? Besides, your grandfather gave you explicit instructions to go."

"Mum I can't." Henry was nothing but a whisper.

When his eyes filled with tears and he wanted to hug his mother, she coldly refused. Not that his mother didn't love her son. She loved him deeply. She just couldn't let either of them be seen as weak.

"You cannot do this here. People are watching." hissed his mother.

"Can't I just be Henry Fox for once, your son, who needs his mother's hugs?"

"You belong to England, my son. Cheer up and do your duty."

Henry choked back his tears, after all, no one could see the Prince in tears and being vulnerable. He nodded and left.

He went into the garden, under the big willow tree. To his father. As always when he felt lonely and lost. His father was buried in the family crypt, but before he died he told Henry that if he ever needed him, he'd find him under the willow tree. Since then, Henry has often gone there to talk to him. But the pain had hardly faded. Since then he has suffered from insomnia and has been taking antidepressants.

It has been a few months since the death of his father. He still couldn't accept it. He couldn't mourn the way a son mourns his beloved father. He couldn't even break down at the funeral. Fucking cancer.

He was the closest to him. He wanted to be "just" Henry Fox. His siblings loved the pomp and glamor, and didn't mind cold obligations. Especially Philip. But Henry would have given up everything to be a "normal" child. And as much as he could, his father gave him the illusion of a happy childhood.