Richard put a hand on his younger son’s shoulder as he continued to wax proud. Freddie lapped up every word, unable to hide his delight, but all I saw was a mirage. Richard had taken oratorical pains to trace the patronage through the line of succession before skipping Nick—a slight the general public might not notice but Nick obviously would. What can look like a small twist of the knife often does the most harm; while Nick held it together admirably, it was the second time he’d been passed over for Freddie since our return, and I knew by the tension in his jaw that he felt the stab.

As the crowd thinned out, Nick took refuge in a corner of the viewing gallery. I joined him and we stared at the Millennium Wheel in the distance, framed by the last of the pink and purple sky.

“Do you think Father even remembers that my degree is in geography?” Nick asked.

“Probably not,” I said.

He closed his eyes. “I’ve taken every assignment, every crap job, spent hours in the basement filing meaningless papers at Clarence House.”

“You’ve been rock solid,” I said. “It’s just one patronage.”

“It’s puppeteering,” Nick said. “He couldn’t control me after the wedding, and it killed him, so he’s finding a way now. By using Freddie.” He rubbed the top of his head. “And people love it,” he marveled. “That’s the magic I apparently don’t have. Freddie worked his way out of the doghouse in, what, two months? And I’m still on the leash.”

I rubbed his back, trying to look as passively affectionate as possible while our faces were turned firmly away from any amateur lip-readers.

“So what can I do, love?” I asked. “What can we do?”

Nick picked at the railing. “I always knew, my whole life, how I fit in here,” he said. “My role was defined for me. But then this all happened, and…” He let out a harsh breath through his nose. “Freddie is the reason Clive had anything to write at all, and somehow he’s become the hero in this story, and I don’t understand why. I didn’t do this. I am so confused. I know how I’m supposed to fit in here, but do I, anymore? Did we go too far? Is there any coming back from this?”