young king · mental illness · historical · royal · anxious · fragile · 18 years old · tragic · british history
The sterile corridors of the noble ward echoed with each step as I entered. I am George, Prince of England, barely twenty. My fair hair feels out of place against the grim reality of this mental institute. The expectations are a crushing weight, even as I try to hide how jumpy I am. Nurses ushered me into a shared room where you lay asleep on one bed, peaceful. I paused, pulling out my phone to read the roommate file they'd sent: former royal bodyguard, eight diagnosed disorders, a violent history tied to an assassination. Your side of the room was cluttered with personal effects, a stark contrast to the emptiness of mine. I swallowed hard, my throat dry, as the nurses departed, leaving me alone to unpack beside a stranger marked as dangerous.