Public appearances. He’d kept them limited since Afghanistan. Though lately he’d carried out his share of royal obligations.
However, a few years ago when the Brighton Eagles asked Stephen to do a publicity junket—as their most renowned player—the Crown declined. Too risky. Too public.
Stephen spent most of his rugby years avoiding the spotlight, ducking into the locker room after a test to avoid the press. The recent Fan Day was one of his rare public appearances for the team.
The lads understood. Stephen told them his low profile was for security.
Every time he stepped on the pitch, however, he was aware of the risk. Someone might try to kill him. As time passed, Stephen handled more and more public appearances on behalf of the Crown. But security would always be maintained.
Madeline and Hyacinth had wanted him on the show for years. The King’s Office reported they were “thrilled”!
The stage director approached with a bow. “Your Highness, you’re on after the commercial.”
“Thank you.” Stephen hopped off the stool, adjusted his collar, and tucked his shirt into his jeans, then slipped on his jacket. He liked the casual prince-as-rugby-player attire. He exhaled. He was a wee bit nervous. But this should be fun.
The applause lights flashed and the camera’s red light dimmed. Makeup artists scurried onto the stage like elves, patting and primping the show’s stars, then backed away when the stage manager called, “Thirty seconds.”
Thomas clapped Stephen on the shoulder. “Break a leg.”
Stephen laughed. “Isn’t one ankle enough?”
The show was back from commercial. “Ladies, hold on to your hats. We’ve a surprise for you today.” Blond and fair-skinned, Madeline beamed at the audience, then at her cohost. “I’m beside myself, aren’t you, Hy?”
“Don’t you see the bags under my eyes, Maddie? I slept not one wink. Not one.” Hyacinth, dark-haired and thin, with piercing blue eyes, slipped from her high hostess chair. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to our show for the first timeever, His Royal Highness, Prince Stephen.”
Stephen moved into a wall of cheers and applause, shoulders back, chin up, doing his best to minimize his awkward, booted-foot gait. He strafed the front row, shaking hands, waving at the audience. Then he embraced Madeline and Hyacinth, a break in royal protocol, and took his place between the presenters.
“Well, well, we’re so excited,” Hyacinth started, her comment fueling the audience.
A low chant began in the back. “Strat, Strat, Strat!” An abbreviation of his surname started by sports presenters when discussing the way Stephen maneuvered up and down the pitch.
“His sidestep is like, strat, strat, strat . . .”
Stephen acknowledged them with a wave, relaxed, smiling. He liked his identity as a rugby player. It made him an everyday man.
He felt quite sure he’d surrendered his essence as a prince when men died for him.
“Settle down or we’ll never get to chat.” Hyacinth walked past the cameras into the bleachers, patting the air down with her hands. “We’ve only five minutes with him and you’ve used one already.”
The audience laughed but complied, yielding to Hyacinth’s remarkable charm.
As Hyacinth returned to her chair, Madeline pressed her hand on Stephen’s arm. “We are thrilled to have you. Tell us, what have you been up to, Your Highness?”
“Stephen, please, call me Stephen.” He’d hear from Mum about omitting his title.
“Prince Stephen is your name. Who you are. His Royal Highness, Prince Stephen Marc Kenneth Leopold of Brighton Kingdom.”
“Prince Stephen.” Hyacinth had been around. She knew better. “How’s your ankle? We’re so missing you on the pitch for the summer games.”
“It’s coming on. Still a bit of physio yet to go, but I’ll be back for the fall Premiership.”
Cheers and whistles from the audience.
“Will you be coronated as Prince of Brighton in this downtime?” Madeline read the question from her cue cards. It felt odd, out of place, and perhaps strategized by the King’s Office to get him to yield.
“We’re still talking.” A nonanswer always worked.
“So you’ll be patron of the new War Memorial? We’re so proud you served king and country along with the other chaps.” Hyacinth applauded toward the crowd, stirring them to join in. “He’s a hero on and off the rugby pitch.”
