“The Prince never revealed his true identity to anyone,” he said, as reassuringly as he could. Princess Elizabeth was young enough to be his daughter, but he knew next to nothing about being a father. “No one knew until they caught up with the news broadcasts from Earth,”
The King cleared his throat. “Be that as it may,” he said, “it still raises uncomfortable questions.”
He looked at Janelle. “Did either of you discuss the future?”
Janelle shook her head, staring down at the floor. “No,” she said, quietly. “We knew we could die at any moment.”
Ted winced, inwardly. Shipboard romances were hardly uncommon — and far from forbidden, as long as regulations were honoured — but they rarely lasted long. The sheer intensity of a sexual affair between two young people under constant threat of death didn’t always survive when they returned to Earth or resigned from the military. Ironically, he knew, if they’d met before the war, their romance might have survived. Ark Royal had been held in a stable orbit near Earth. The crew had never expected to do more than maintain the ship. They’d certainly never expected to go to war.
The Princess snorted. “You just made love to him without considering the future?”
“I’m not trapped in a goldfish bowl,” Janelle snapped, showing a flash of fire. “I didn’t even know it might be a concern.”
Ted winced. That had been a low blow. The Princess couldn’t have an affair with anyone, male or female, without the media turning it into a circus. Her lover’s life would be dissected ruthlessly, anything he had said or done in the past would be used against her… and the relationship would probably shatter under the pressure. The Princess could never afford to relax, let alone have a relationship that she knew might never go anywhere. It would wind up becoming a nightmare, even if her partner had been everything she wanted in a man.
“But it has become a concern,” the Princess snapped back. She glowered at Janelle. “Are you pregnant?”
Janelle spluttered. “What?”
“All naval personnel have contraceptive implants,” Ted said, quickly. “No one can get pregnant on a naval starship.”
“But there are already speculations that you are carrying Henry’s child,” the Princess insisted. “Your life will never be the same.”
“Then they will have to swallow their words when they see I am very clearly not pregnant,” Janelle pointed out.
“Then they will start claiming that you have had an illicit abortion,” Princess Elizabeth said, darkly. “They have already claimed that I have had five different abortions in the past.”
Janelle recoiled, shocked. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” Princess Elizabeth said. “And apparently I’ve had twelve different lovers.”
She snorted, rudely. “I must have been asleep,” she added, “because I can’t remember any of them.”
The King cleared his throat, loudly. “I would have liked to welcome you to the family formally,” he said, addressing Janelle. “I believe you would have added something we desperately need. But it would probably be best for you if the whole… affair was forgotten as quickly as possible.”
But it wouldn’t be forgotten, Ted knew. Janelle had become a Public Interest celebrity the moment someone had revealed her relationship with Prince Henry to the media. Short of changing her name, or at least shipping back out as quickly as possible, there was no way the media would ever let her rest. At least Ted had managed to bar reporters from Ark Royal, despite objections from the Public Relations Department. No one wanted them to tell the universe just how badly the Old Lady had been damaged by the aliens.
“I agree,” Janelle said.
Princess Elizabeth leaned forward. “Did you love my brother?”
“I… I don’t know,” Janelle confessed. “We were happy together, but…”
Oddly, Ted noted, the Princess seemed happy with the answer. Or perhaps it wasn’t odd at all. There were no shortage of social climbers who would happily claim to love the target of their affections, even when it was blatantly clear they had no interest in anything beyond the title and the prestige that came with it. But the media would tear their lives apart anyway, looking for something they could use to shock and beguile the British public. Janelle might have had a very lucky escape.
But that shouldn’t be a problem now, he thought. The country has far more serious matters to worry about.
“I have reviewed the files,” the King said. He looked directly at Ted. “I do not believe that you — or any of your crew — can reasonably be held responsible for my son’s death. He wanted to live the life of a starfighter pilot, without using his rank to his advantage, knowing the risks that he would face. His death…”
He broke off, clearly upset. Ted remembered the files and understood. The King had opposed his son going into the military — and then into the line of fire. It would have been relatively simple to assign Prince Henry to one of the squadrons defending Earth… although that might have been a mistake. Those squadrons had taken more than 80% casualties when the aliens had attacked. Henry had followed the path he’d chosen, the path that had allowed him to earn rewards — and punishments — without his rank being taken into consideration and, in the end, it had killed him. But he’d died bravely and well.
And they will use it to bolster the position of the Royal Family, he thought, cynically. Buckingham Palace employed a small army of PR experts, hoping to shape the narrative before hostile editors — or merely ones looking for a scoop — started to try to shape it for themselves. Henry’s death will make it seem as though they are sharing the same risks and burdens as everyone else.
“There will be no Board of Inquiry,” the King continued. “I believe, in any case, that you will be leaving Earth again, far too quickly.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Ted said.
He sighed, knowing the King wasn’t speaking his own words. It was quite possible the King felt otherwise, that he wanted his son’s death investigated carefully before passing any kind of judgement. But the decision would have been taken by the War Cabinet and the King would have had to follow orders, particularly now. The country couldn’t afford an open squabble between the King and Parliament.
“I wish you the very best of luck in talking with the aliens,” the King continued. “It may be our only hope of a lasting peace.”
He looked at Janelle. “I am truly sorry for pulling you into our lives,” he said. “I have no doubt that, if my son had survived, he would have taken steps to ensure you were protected or simply never identified. Henry, whatever his faults, was a decent person.”
“That is beyond doubt,” Elizabeth said, frostily.
“You are free to call us at any time, should you wish to chat,” the King continued. “And please know that we do not blame you for anything.”
“Thank you,” Janelle said.
“But it won’t be an easy few months for you,” the King warned. “It has always been so for those who come too close to the Royal Family.”
He rose to his feet. “You would be well-advised to remain on the carrier for the next few months, if possible,” he added. “There are few other places the media won’t go — and they’re searching for a distraction. If they think your life will make a good distraction…”
“They already have,” Janelle said, bitterly.