Occasionally I think I should enjoy having the top spot in a royal family. That feeling always passes quite fast though. If my parents would have ever been king and queen, I should gladly have passed the crown on to my sister, even though she’s younger than I. Over the course of my lifetime I’ve always been the somewhat offbeat character in everyone’s crowd. It’s a role I’ve learned to handle quite exceptionally well by now. A regnant monarch, of course, is fully expected to be so terribly prim and proper, with all sorts of annoying obligations. As king, I should have to be constantly on my guard in order to avoid even the slightest of possible gaffes. Each and every single move I should make under such circumstances would always be hounded by the world’s absolutely undivided attention. As a mere family member I could count on all the glamour and gusto with none of the difficult things. I could even get quite a few laughs to be able to show for it. The media nabobs could count on me to make a few appearances every once in a while, and to recite a few enchanting witticisms. I could dine at the finest restaurants, imbibe the best of drinks, court the loveliest women, all the while having a good laugh at one and all because I shouldn’t ever have to be bothered with all the hoo ha that goes with being a head of state, or even a prospective one. Even though Elizabeth and Philip are mere figureheads, they’re still obligated, by definition, to behave in a manner proper to their station.