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The Punishment
Back in his private office at Kensington Palace, William sat motionless, hands wrapped around a cup of cold coffee while his heart churned with conflicting emotions. Hurting Freddy was the last thing he wanted. The boy’s bright grin and unfiltered joy always brought to mind William’s own teenage years, when everything felt harmless.
But reality snapped him back. The royal institution wasn’t a place where errors could be shrugged off. Discipline, the principle Queen Elizabeth had instilled in him, was not negotiable. If he allowed sentiment to override rules, it would create a fissure where favoritism could eclipse accountability, eroding public respect for the monarchy.
With a long, heavy exhale, William stood, walked to his desk, and began drafting his decision. Each sentence felt like it cut deeper into his heart.
The written decision was delivered to Camilla through an internal message, framed with courtesy and firmness. Freddy would be barred from participating in royal activities for the next three months—enough time for thoughtful reflection, yet not so severe as to damage his youth. He would also be absent from official photographs and grand ceremonies.
William hoped this temporary consequence would help Freddy understand the weight of his actions without inflicting permanent wounds. But the decision extended beyond Freddy. William added another point directed at Camilla: she would no longer be permitted to bring her grandson into the artifact storage rooms or ceremonial spaces.
It wasn’t meant to punish her, but to remind her that privilege doesn’t mean freedom from responsibility. William wrote that line with a faint tremor, aware it would strike at Camilla’s pride.