Fifty-two:
Prince Henry
Downing Street was a place that I’d hoped to avoid all my days. It was where the Prime Minister lived. I wasn’t set to inherit the throne so I wasn’t important enough to know what was going on most of the time. Everything that went through Downing Street went directly to the Queen, then to my brother. I was never supposed to see anything like that.
The car stopped, and Nigel opened the door for me. “The Prime Minister is in his study, sire.”
“Right. Thank you.”
Most of the lights of the Prime Minsters Downing Street home were off, except for one, lone window. The one that was presumably the Prime Ministers office. I was greeted by a butler, who took me up there.
He knocked on the door. “Prime Minister, Prin
