‘They certainly pulled out all the stops to keep it quiet, that’s for sure,’ Ben said. ‘Not that I follow current affairs much, but even I would’ve heard about it if news of your disappearance had been allowed to get out.’

The prince gave a cynical grunt. ‘What do you expect? They probably wouldn’t have been too bothered otherwise, if I’d been just another serviceman MIA. But I suppose it’s nice knowing that someone cares.’ He paused, thinking. ‘Huh. You know the real irony of it all? That I used every bit of influence I had to get this mission. I fought them every step of the way. Threatened to quit my role, renounce my status, walk away from the whole bloody family circus if they didn’t let me.’

‘Why should it matter so much to you?’

The prince stared at him for a moment. ‘Why? Because I wanted to be someone like you guys,’ he answered with surprising frankness. ‘They wouldn’t let me into the SAS, because of who I was, no matter if I passed selection or not. Can you believe that bullshit? But I wouldn’t give up. I bullied and blackmailed my way into the Pathfinders because I had to prove myself. To show them I wasn’t just some pretty cosseted little media darling born with a diamond-studded silver spoon in his gob. I argued, why shouldn’t I be allowed to? My family have always been in action. Grandfather was covered in medals for his service in World War Two. My uncle flew helicopter combat missions in the Falklands War. Even my twat of an elder brother was allowed to piss about in jets in Afghanistan with 16 Air Assault Brigade, even if he didn’t actually do much. So why not me? What was wrong with me?’ He was getting agitated now, thumping his chest with his fist.

‘Maybe they thought you didn’t have it in you,’ Ben said calmly, looking at him. ‘Maybe they were afraid you might screw things up and cause a big royal embarrassment, so to speak.’

‘Hah! And maybe they were fucking right in the end. Is that what you’re saying?’

‘I don’t have an opinion,’ Ben said. ‘When I do, I promise you’ll be the first to know.’

‘Well, thank you for your candour,’ the prince muttered bitterly. ‘I await your judgement with bated breath.’

‘The question is,’ Ben said, ‘what am I supposed to do with you now?’

‘Nothing,’ the prince replied. ‘Nothing you can do. We’re all stuck in the same boat, mate.’ There was that “mate” again, the young royal’s self-conscious attempt to relate to his commoner underlings. It was already beginning to grate on Ben after a couple of repetitions. There had better not be a third.