Once upon a time there was a kingdom that was struggling to
recover from a long war. A young princess was about to become Queen and she
gave birth to a son who would be heir to throne. He was a quiet, pensive young
lad. He loved being outdoors. He enjoyed nature and all it offered. He was a
cultured boy who enjoyed sitting peacefully in the countryside painting, or
hiking. He played the cello and rode horses. He was a good sportsman. And as he
grew, he joined the Navy for a period of service.
As a young man, he became concerned about harmful changes he
was seeing in the environment. He was an observer. The world was dying and
people were killing it. Killing their own future. People thought his warnings
were those of a mad man. He was a voice crying out in the wilderness: A man
ahead of his time. They thought he was a bit daft and said he talked to the
flowers. They liked to make fun of him.
He was a working Prince who was disturbed by urban sprawl and
the dehumanizing affect it had on the people. He devoted much of his time to neglected
urban youth and advanced the rights of people of all colours and faiths. He
advocated for sustainable agriculture and industry, and practiced it. He worked
with those who wanted to make cities and towns more friendly to its citizens,
and designed and built model towns.
He enjoyed people who were thinkers and doers. He did not like
to be idle or frivolous in his ways. And then he met a young woman who was
educated, a thinker in her own right, with a wicked sense of humour. She shared
his interests and had her own. He fell I love. But, she was not of Royal or
Aristocratic blood and, at the time, she was not deemed a suitable consort for
a future King. The relationship was deemed unacceptable.
But the Prince was ageing. He was expected to marry and have
children. The Queen expected it. The people expected it and the Press expected
it. It had to be. The young daughter of an ancient noble line was deemed
suitable. She was shy, not very intelligent but she was very demure and beautiful.
She was young, much younger than the Prince, but her dreams of life as a
princess were based on fairytales, not reality. She was an urban girl enamored
with money and privilege and the things she thought they would provide. She
liked fancy clothes and parties and the life of the jet setters. She wanted to
be loved and spoiled. She wanted to be the centre of attention. She wanted a
life that her prince could never provide her.
And so the marriage was doomed from the start. She did not
like the outdoors or country living. She wanted nightclubs and glamour. Hers
was a Hollywood vision. She did not like the Royal discipline. Her temper flared.
She became hostile. She did not want to walk behind her husband. She wanted
centre stage. And the media gave it to her. She courted them and they followed her.
The marriage was a prison both for her and the Prince. She rarely joined him at
his work and never supported him in it. He was not a movie star prince. He was
a worker prince. She felt imprisoned and she struck out on her own. She felt
let down. And she sought to undermine her husband.
It is hard to say they drifted apart, because in reality
they were never together. Their worlds were separate. Their aspirations were
different. And their interests were irreconcilable.
The Princess sought out friends of her own liking, and
teased the press. Meanwhile, the Prince had retreated and found comfort in the
woman he had loved as a young man. Both were locked in unhappy marriages. They
had remained friends and were true soul mates. They could comfort each other,
even if only as friends.
It is unclear who was unfaithful to the other first. In
reality, neither had been faithful to the other from the start. They existed on
different plains. They were an irritation, the one to the other. But the media,
loved the Hollywood-style princess as she struck out on her own and at the old-fashioned
Prince. She was good press. They played her and she played them. She became the
jet setter she had always wanted to be. And soon enough it killed her.
It is a sad story. But the Prince kept at his task. It
became acknowledged that his foresight was indeed accurate. The laugh was on
the world, which had reluctantly awoken at a time that may be too late.
Eventually, the Prince married the woman he had always
loved. The soap opera public wanted to despise her. But she became his devoted
partner, shared his work, suffered the slings and arrows of a shallow media and
brought a stalwart dignity back to their lives.
