"Harry, why do you fret so about her treatment of William?" My mother says in her soft voice.

"Because she trains with him, takes walks with him, invites him over to the palace more than she does me," I count on my fingers.

This is one thing my mother has never explained away to me. I am eleven going on twelve and it is becoming more and more apparent that the Queen loves William more than she loves me. I snuggle deeper into her left side as we both look out my room window. We are spending some days at the cottage.

We are both in my room sitting on my bed, and she side hugs me, which I grudgingly allow. I mean, I'm getting too old for hugs and kisses from my mum. But it's okay when we're alone like this. I love these times with her. Unlike everyone else, she treats William and me the same even though I'll never be King, and he will someday.

My mother believes that the crown is a heavy burden that no one person should ever have to carry. Everything you do, say or the way you act is for the public. No action is for your family or happiness. They always think about how the public will perceive their actions.

"It's obvious she loves him more than me. Why, Mom? You don't love either me or William more than the other. Neither does Dad."

"William and I, " she corrects me. "Because she knows that William will do what she's doing someday. She is protecting him in her own way. She wrongly believes that molding William in the perfect image will make his rule easier."

"But Mom, you always said nothing is perfect," I nudge her.

"And nothing is my love." She grabs my cheeks loosely and twists them softly, lovingly. "Those who wear the crown believe they can perfect everything about themselves to please others. Never ever do that Harry. I made that mistake and I'm paying the price."

The door bangs open, and William hurries in.

"I'm going to the palace, Mom." William always barges into my room. I hate it when he does that. I asked for a lock on my door, but Mom says I can't have one.

"You have just a few days of holiday left and I'll like to spend it with you, so no, you cannot go to the palace."

"She insists I come tonight and return tomorrow."

"Tell her I said 'no'. You can visit her tomorrow. I want to spend a quiet night with my young men," she holds her hand out to William.

William walks over to us and sits on the other side of Mom.

"She will be angry with you." William whispers.

"She always is. Don't worry, everything will be all right. Just remember boys, always look out for each other. You'll both go in different directions but always make time to be brothers no matter what."

I lean forward and glance at William, who's on the other side of Mom. I hope we can always stay loving brothers. But something tells me we may not, and I feel a hurt deep in my heart.

"Okay, I'll go call her and tell her. What's for supper?" William asks and walks towards the door, expecting an answer.

"Me to make and you to find out," my mom says to his retreating form.

"He does that a lot, Mom." I watch my brother walk stiffly out of my room.

"What?"

"He asks questions, walks away, expecting total obedience. Quite infuriating, really."

"Don't worry. I'll make sure he stops doing that. I'll knock it out of him." She makes a boxing move with her hand, laughing.

"Unh, unh! Good luck, Mom. They are part of her lessons with him and I think William is enjoying them."

"He might enjoy them now because it's something new, but he'll tire of people always agreeing with him or catering to his every need, believe me. I know."

I notice one of my model airplanes is at a weird angle on my display case. I walk over and arrange it the way it should be. I wish the cleaning staff will leave my room alone. Mom says if I want them to, I should clean my room so there won't be a need for them to clean it and rearrange my things.

My love of model planes is one thing I share with my mom and brother. William is no longer collecting them and has less interest lately. Another thing my brother and I no longer have in common. Since the Queen started to 'train' him when he turned eleven, we have been losing things we have in common.

"Come here, Harry. I want to talk to you," Mom calls out to me.

I reluctantly walk back to her side. She pulls my bedside stool in front of her, pats the top, and I sit down. She leans forward, her forehead touches mine.

"If there's one thing, I need you to always remember as you go grow older and go through life's phases, it's this one thing."

"What's that mother?" I raise my head at her serious tone and look at her. She holds my hands in hers, a tiny frown above her brows, her lips pursed, and her gaze unflinchingly.

"A man's honor above all else starts with his love for and protection of his family."

"Honor, family, I don't understand."

"A man must always protect his family against all odds before he can call himself a man. And when he does that, he can protect the world. That is one thing that will separate you and William as you grow into your roles."

She bends her head, shakes it a little and looks back at me.

"I love you and your brother so very much. I wish I could infuse more love for family above role into William and more awareness and less naivety into you. Harry, people will always love William more and want to please him at all costs regardless of how it affects you. Don't let it eat you up. Live your life. Be good to yourself and others. And when you marry..."

"... eew! Girls? Gross." I interrupt her.

"I'll remind you of this statement when you find the one."

"The one?" I ask.

"The one you will move heaven and earth to protect at all costs. My dearest Harry, the one who makes you a man of honor."