“They’d probably be shocked,” Lopez said. “And probably not a little horrified.”
Henry nodded in agreement, then changed the subject. “Why are you here?”
“Just fretting over my inability to get the Admiral to honour his social commitments,” Lopez said. “You?”
“Just brooding,” Henry said, truthfully. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. Did she know who he was? The CAG clearly hadn’t known anything, but the Admiral’s aide might well have picked up on something. “I got into trouble with my superior.”
“You don’t seem to be in the brig,” Lopez observed. “It could be worse.”
Henry had to smile. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It could be.”
He looked back at the stars, silently resolving to forget glory-seeking and, instead, to concentrate on being the best pilot he could be. North had been right — he ground his teeth in sudden irritation as he recalled that he would have to apologise to the other pilot — but he wouldn’t have a chance to complain in future. Henry silently promised himself it wouldn’t happen again.
“And I have to apologise,” he added. “I hate apologising.”
Lopez lifted her eyebrows. “Why?”
Henry knew the answer to that, but he also knew he couldn’t tell her. He’d been forced to apologise since he was a child, time and time again, for offending people who had heard an inaccurate story about something he’d done and started squawking. Once, he hadn’t known why they’d been offended, merely that it had been his fault. Later, he’d realised that they wanted to force him to grovel as a power play. And none of them had given a shit about the real person behind the royal title.
He clenched his fists so hard they hurt. Beatings would have been kinder, he knew; he’d have preferred to be beaten then endure the mocking condescension of people who saw him as nothing more than a symbol. Instead, he’d been subjected to a form of abuse that had left scars on his soul. If he’d had any prospect of inheriting any real power, he would have hung on grimly and executed his tormentors the day he took the throne. Instead, he’d tried to find a way out. Elizabeth could have the throne. She was older than him… and besides, she’d make a better monarch. Queens called Elizabeth had a very good record.
Lopez coughed. “Are you alright?”
Henry looked down at his hands, then slowly unclenched them. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I…”
“You said you hated apologising,” Lopez said. “I asked why?”
Henry sighed. “My… family blamed me for everything,” he said. “I had to apologise for everything, even when it wasn’t my fault.”
Lopez met his eyes. “My brother was the same,” she said. “He got the blame for a lot of my mischief. Dad never quite twigged that a girl could be just as naughty as a boy.”
Henry gave her an odd look. “Where did you grow up?”
“My family were immigrants,” Lopez said. “My father never quite fitted in anywhere.”
She cleared her throat. “Whatever happened now,” she added, “was it your fault?”
“Yes,” Henry said, flatly.
“So what’s wrong with apologising for it?” She asked. “Or with learning from your mistakes?”
“Nothing,” Henry admitted. He wasn’t Prince Henry, not here. He was Charles Augustus, a young pilot from a determinedly middle-class background. “Nothing at all.”
He smiled, feeling oddly better. Charles Augustus was little more than a set of notations in a file, a character who would require a great deal of development before he could be called anything more than one-dimensional. Anyone who took a close look at the file would soon recognise it was little more than a cover, one intended to hide a greater truth. A foreign spy inserted into the Royal Navy would have a more detailed file…
And yet Charles Augustus felt real. It was Prince Henry who felt like the fake.
“Thank you,” he said. He swallowed, suddenly, as he stood. “Will… will I see you again?”
Lopez blinked in surprise, then smiled. “I’ll be around,” she said. “We can chat any time you want.”
Henry nodded to her, then stepped through the hatch. He had no idea if she knew who he was or not and he didn’t much care. All that mattered, perhaps, was that he had someone to talk to who didn’t seem impressed by his title — if, of course, she knew he had a title. And she was pretty. Prince Henry couldn’t give a girl a look without having the papers speculating about an imminent marriage, but Charles Augustus could make a fool of himself with the ladies if he wanted. Sin City had been quite an education.
Smiling, he made his way back towards the barracks. It was time to swallow his pride and apologise.
“Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Kurt said. He knew he sounded shocked and he didn’t really care. “Charles Augustus is actually Prince Henry — in disguise.”
“Yes,” Admiral Smith said, simply. “And you will keep this a secret.”
“His immediate superior will have to be told,” Kurt said. “There were already some questions about why Mr. Augustus was summoned to the Captain’s presence.”
“Tell them that I saw fit to deal with the first major disciplinary problem personally,” the Captain said. “It should suffice, I think.”
“It will not,” the XO countered. She looked angry. It dawned on Kurt that she too had been kept in the dark. “Are there any other surprises on this ship? Or is the Captain of the Roosevelt actually the First Son? Or…”
The Admiral held up a hand. “It was a surprise to me too, when I was briefed on it,” he said, flatly. “The decision was taken to restrict the information as much as possible.”
“But I should have been told,” the XO said. “This could have affected my position.”
“The information was held on a strict need-to-know basis,” the Admiral said. He looked directly at Kurt. “What would you have done if you’d known, while you were putting him through training?”
Kurt frowned. “I would have tried to give him the same training as everyone else,” he said. “Whatever else can be said about him, he is a reasonably competent pilot. All he needs is seasoning and he’s been picking that up since he was assigned here.”
“But evidently not enough of it,” the XO snarled. “Captain, this is a major problem. What happens when this comes out?”
Kurt understood. It would look as though Prince Henry had been allowed to get away with it or had been given excessive punishment. Either one would make the navy look bad. But he hadn’t known Augustus was Prince Henry when he’d assigned the punishment. He’d just wanted to make damn sure the incident wasn’t repeated. North could easily have been injured severely — or injured the Prince himself.
“The incident will be sealed,” the Admiral said, firmly. “The files on it will be redacted, once we return to Nelson Base. They will only be opened for public consumption after everyone involved is safely dead.”
“That isn’t a reliable solution,” the XO said. “Something could leak, sir.”
“Then we deal with it when it does,” the Admiral said. He looked over at Kurt, sternly. “You may share this information, in strictest confidence, with his Wing Commander. Make it clear to her that if there is any leak, it will be career-wrecking. No one else is to know.”
He paused, suddenly looking much older. “I understand that many of you feel personally offended at being left out of the loop,” he added. “However, there was no alternative.”