Entry 219
Cultural event
8/2
I don't even know how the hell I should be writing this. I'm so filled with anger and hurt. Grandpapa and I had a meeting after lunch where he came with an actual fucking agenda, on Prince of Wales letterhead - to have a conversation with his grandson!
He decided that "since I can get off base when emotional, an agenda might keep us on track."
I didn't know how to reply to that so I just stared at him. Then he started.
"Sebastian, we all know how you treasure your independence and solitude," as if it was some kind of dangerous topic. "But I need to remind you of your obligations." He didn't actually name these obligations, but I could read his silence. He means a spouse.
After that, he actually said I'm probably our greatest PR weapon and the Firm can't afford for that weapon to get damaged. Some times I wonder what he was like when he was 22. Then again, I probably don't really want to know.
I must have gotten my anger across because when I left the meeting, I bowed once from the neck and thanked 'his highness' for his time, turning away just as he started to reach out for a hug.
I have lunch with Gran and Anne tomorrow to plan out some of our upcoming trip to New Zealand next month. At first I thought about talking to her about it but it feels wrong to go to her about this. She has enough to deal with.
