The Glass Veil

Sanity Slipping

The media has been camped outside the palace gates, waiting for anything juicy to report on. Unfortunately, they haven't been very kind to me online. I did make headlines, but not in the way my father had hoped. People are talking about 'The Monarch being in the hands of an unsteady Queen.'

The media's relentless assault paints me as unfit, unstable, and unreliable, their words carving deep wounds in my already fragile sense of self. If only they knew the truth behind their own painted words. Last night's events epitomize the distorted narrative they weave, twisting reality to fit their preconceived notions. Is it twisted?

Am I truly unstable? The question haunts me, gnawing at the edges of my consciousness as doubts creep in like tendrils of smoke, obscuring the clarity of my own judgment. I find myself questioning not only my character but also my mental state, wondering if their relentless scrutiny has eroded the very foundation of who I am and what I'm supposed to be.

Last night, in a moment of vulnerability, I almost succumbed to the overwhelming tide of emotions that threaten to engulf me, nearly begging my security guard to stay by my side, to shield me from the relentless onslaught of my own demons. And in that same breath, I almost pleaded with him to cast aside the veil of secrecy that shrouds our relationship, to allow us the freedom to express ourselves openly and authentically.

But as the weight of their accusations bears down upon me, I realize that their portrayal of me as unstable is not a reflection of reality but rather a projection of their own fears of the monarchy and the prior government they have created. I am not unfit to be Queen. I am not unstable. I am simply human, navigating the treacherous waters of power and politics with as much grace and dignity as I can muster. Above all else, I am trying, I'm running this rat race to the best of my ability and they don't even know half of the story.

I'm hoping my father will be able to handle the situation and put a stop to all the negative press. Unfortunately, my father announced an unknown relationship at a garden party and our media team released a story to the publishers. Even though names were never mentioned, it was speculated through many sources with multiple names. I'm a train wreck in the eyes of the media.

Being inside the palace with my father at this time is awful for everybody, the staff are attempting to discover ways to hide out and keep away from him. He is on a warpath. Two people have been fired and my mother has had to overrule him and hire back the staff. My mother tends to do her own thing and stay out of his way, but the last few days she has been handling things and challenging him. Last night I heard her arguing with him about some of his decisions that are unknown to me. I couldn't hear the whole conversation.

He went behind my back and painted a misleading picture for the media to dwell in, and now that his picture has streaks running through it, he wants to be deranged. My life should be private, instead, my life is a matter of privileged information for anyone who works for the media.

I hear the sound of rustling grass and a few hushed coughs. Turning around, I see Harry walking towards me wearing a light jacket. "I'm sorry for being late," he apologizes as he approaches me. Lately, I seem to be hearing apologies from him more frequently. I am not sure why he is apologising, he said he was leaving for a few days.

I smile and shake my head, "No worries," I reassure him. I notice the dark circles under his eyes and his slightly dishevelled hair, but it doesn't look bad. "Are you okay?"

Harry nods, "Just exhausted. My flight was delayed," he admits, clearing his throat.

"I thought you were leaving for a few days?"

Harry nods his head, "Something told me to come back."

I softly smile to myself, a sense of happiness fluttering through me like a spark just ignited inside of me. "I didn't intend for you to come home early."