01x09 - In My Heart There Was a Kind of Fighting

'Previously on The Royals...'

The King is down!

Security level one. His Majesty the King was attacked.

I need you to be my alibi.

Are you in love with my mother, so you tried to kill my father?

Armed police! Get on the floor! Nobody move!

Who the hell are you?

You are the acting King of England.

All this I promise to do, so help me, God.

It is always gonna be you and me, Liam.

Look into your heart and truly ask yourself where you belong.

Ballantine his company... I mean if I even got in...

But it is in New York.

These children are illegitimate.

I am the rightful heir to the Crown.

I am the next King of England.

Tell us it isn't true.

It can't be true. It just can't be. Mum wouldn't do that.

Mum's a whore.

To the next King of England.

Long live the Queen.

(Monitor beeping)

TV: Thank you all for coming this morning.

We have the results of these tests.

I'll make a brief opening statement, after which I will throw the floor open to questions.

Scientifically, each genetic marker is assigned with a paternity index, showing the degree of relatedness between the alleged father and the child. After examining these genetic markers, I can say with absolute and complete certainty... that Princess Eleanor and His Royal Highness Prince Liam... are not the genetic descendants of His Royal Majesty King Simon.

♪ A fragile heart of glass ♪
♪ Shattered once before ♪
♪ The walls start to break and crack ♪
♪ Nothing is built to last ♪ (Ringtone)

Simon: 'Something is definitely rotten.'

The Royals
In My Heart There Was a Kind of Fighting

'There's no need for retesting. We're happy with the results...'

Bravo, Queen.

Darling, I want to explain.

Explain what?

Oh. Oh, that you and Cyrus fixed this whole thing?

If only that were true.

I think we both know that you did.

But what kind of person... would allow herself to face this kind of global ridicule if it weren't true?

Eleanor! That pillow was older than America.

Someone who couldn't give it up.

The money. The power.

The pillows.

You know how much I care about this family's image.

Not the family's image, though, Mother.

The Monarchy's image.

No Monarchy... no Queen... no pillows.


I've been up all night thinking about it.

I walked the streets that my father walked, and somewhere out there in the middle of the night... it all made perfect sense.

The paternity test.

The King's attack.

Robert's death.

Did you kill Robert, Mum?

Walk away.

I think you did.

I think you and Cyrus have been planning this for a long time.

Military accident, wasn't it?

I said, get out before I get angry.

Not until you admit it.

You killed your son... and then you tried to kill your husband.

I said, walk away.

Admit it.

Maybe it will help you if you just say it out loud.

No-one killed Robert... because Robert killed himself.

He committed suicide.

Now... you tell me.

Does that make you feel better, hearing me say it out loud?


Your Highness asked for me?

I want a full briefing on where we're at with the King's attack.

We're preparing...

In an hour.

I also removed the security detail from Liam and Eleanor, and I could use another drink.

You removed their security detail?

They're illegitimate.

They're the Queen's children.

They are not successors to the throne and as such, do not merit nor deserve protection.

Not to mention the cost. Is it any wonder I'm running low on cognac?

And would Your Highness like an update on the King's condition?

Be careful, Pryce.

You're insinuating that I don't care about my brother's condition.

You're wrong. Have it all in one hour.

Of course, Your Highness.

I believe you meant, "Your Majesty", as I'm now the acting King.

With all due respect, His Majesty the King is still alive.

You're not officially Prince Regent...

Until the ceremony.

Right. Archbishop, give me the book.

Prince Cyrus, do you solemnly promise...

There. I'm the acting King.

Walk away.

One hour, Pryce.

Make the hems a little shorter.

You think I wear these socks for no-one to see?

What do you mean, you're not on his detail any more?

You've been with him for...

Six years.

Six years. Who's guarding him?

No-one is. - How is that possible?

Someone attacked the King, and I've been calling and texting, and he hasn't responded.

What if he's in trouble?

I'm just following orders.

I was told to stand down from Liam's detail, and take you to the airport.

I can't go without seeing him. Or at least hearing his voice.

I'll find him and have him call you.

But right now your flight is leaving. We have to go.

And he never asked about me?

Can you help me with my bags?

I know you're worried about him, but I really think...


♪ No-one saying be there ♪
♪ No-one saying stop that ♪
♪ No-one saying see here ♪
♪ Free to run around all day ♪
♪ Free to do it all my way ♪
♪ Oh, I just can't wait to be King ♪
♪ No, I just can't wait to be King ♪
♪ Oh, I just can't wait to be King ♪

(Feedback squeal)

I love that song.

Did she ever love you?

You'd have to ask her that.

Did you ever love her?

If you're asking if your mother was the love of my life, then, no, she wasn't.

But we did have some good years together.

But were the two of you ever in love?

I suppose we were.

Over the years that faded.

We became more of a partnership.

A strategic alliance.

Eventually, a quiet understanding.

Why? What changed it?

It's always the little things.

Never the big things.

Like anniversaries or holidays.

Or affairs?

Oh, no.

Affairs will do it.

Have you spoken to Alistair yet?

Not yet.

Cyrus, do you think we've gone too far this time?

He was going to disband the Monarchy. It had to be done.

You should've seen the look in Eleanor's eyes.

I knew it would be bad, but I'll never recover from this.

And... there's no going back.

On the other hand, you're the Queen of England and you'll remain the Queen of England until I marry again.

As if.

And what about Simon?

Ah, Pryce. What do you have for us?

The King remains in a critical condition.

He is unresponsive and his breathing is assisted.

And his assailant?

This man has become a person of interest.

He stands like that for hours.

Who is he?

We've looped in MI5 and MI6, as well as American intelligence.

We should have an answer shortly.


I want to tell the people the King's attacker is in hand.

Like I said, he's merely a suspect.

A psychotic in a hooded sweatshirt lingers for hours outside the gates, and you don't see a connection?

If we arrested everyone who dressed poorly, the Prince Regent would also be in custody.

I can't wait to fire you.

What are we doing about security for the King?

We have guards posted at each entrance to the building, on his floor, and at the entrance to his room.

When he's well enough, I'd like to move him home.

Lucius will make the arrangements.

The King's condition... Ls critical.

When he's well enough, we're bringing him home.

I expect you to have a plan for that.

Do you understand me?

As you wish.

The closer he is, the better we can monitor him.

See? That's the spirit.

Everything's going to work out.

Cyrus, have you heard anything I've said?

My children hate me.

Boring. My children have always hated me.

That's what those little bastards do.

I can't stop thinking about Liam and Lenny.

It's all so scandalous.

And to think we curtsied to those halfies.

Can you imagine it?

One day you're royal and the next day you're just people.

I feel terrible for them.

Yeah, I guess I do, too.

That would be a nightmare.

At least the Queen is still their mum.

Yeah, but who cares about that?

It only matters if your father's the King, those poor bastards.

That's the only way you can inherit the...

Our father's the King.

You know what that means?

I'm the next Queen of England.

I'm the next Queen of England if you die.

Come on, let's go erase Daddy's surveillance tapes.

Wouldn't it be great if he died soon?

Gemma. Hi. Are you looking for Liam?

I have an audience with the Queen.


I'm looking for Liam.

Have you spoken with him?


I should go. The Queen doesn't like to wait.

Gemma, if you see Liam or hear from him, will you ask him to call me?

No. I won't.

Great. Thanks. It's very telling, though.

Liam's suddenly not the Heir to the throne, and you move on.

Maybe you'll sleep with Cyrus.

I didn't say I've moved on from Liam, you said that.

I said I wouldn't ask him to call you, because I won't.

I stood by and let you have your moment with him.

I let your romance be whatever it was going to be.

And for a girl in my position, I was fairly gracious about it all.

How many times have you called him, or texted him, or sent word to him through Marcus or your father, since the King was attacked?

And how many times has he replied?

He's moved on.

Just as he did with all the others.

Eventually he'll call me.

Because he always does.

And when he does, I will tell him nothing of your concern.

Why would I? You had your chance.

You took your turn.

And when you did, how relevant were my feelings to you?

And now you know.

I'm trying to find him because I'm concerned about him.

I'm worried that his world has just been destroyed and he's alone.

Maybe you can sit back and wait for him to call you, but I can't.

And I won't.

Not for me. For him.

If that's your story.

I can't imagine how hard this has all been for you.

The guilt and pain you've been carrying around about Robert.

But, Dad... it wasn't your fault.

It wasn't.

I was supposed to call him. I told him I'd call him.

But instead, I...

You went clubbing in Paris.

It wasn't your fault either, Lenny.

Your Majesty asked for me.

Please sit.

How long were you with my son?

Six years, Your Majesty.

You've done well. I know he likes you very much.

What do you know about this?

Perhaps Her Majesty would prefer an audience with Mr. Pryce.

I've heard from Mr. Pryce.

I'm asking you.

The subject in question was observed standing essentially immobile for several hours on three separate occasions.

As far as I know, his identity is unknown.

What else?


Who the hell is this, Marcus?

Your Majesty, with all due respect...

You'd prefer not to speak out of turn.

So, let me speak first.

We are at war, Mr. Jeffreys, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to tell the heroes from the villains.

I know your service record, I know what you've meant to my son, and my instincts tell me you can be trusted.

So, please, in your professional opinion, what am I looking at?

The standing is very disciplined, so he's likely ex-military.

Possibly King's Guard.

He's carrying a weapon on his left side, so he's right-handed, and he knows where the cameras are, which suggests he wants someone to know he's there.

He's there to provoke a response.

I want you to investigate this further, independent of Mr. Pryce, the MI's, or anyone else.

Is that a direct order, Your Majesty?

Yes, it is.

Good luck.

Oh, Rachel.

I want you to arrange a meeting with Nigel Moorefield.

Of the anti-monarchist movement?

That very one. See if he can come here. As soon as possible.

Of course.


Where do you go when you're not here?

What do you do?

I'm a dominatrix, Your Majesty.


I'll bet you're a good one.

The best, Your Majesty.

Discreet. Keeper of secrets.

Silent as a grave.


Nigel Moorefield.

Yes, Ma'am.

Now you're hiding from me?

I can't leave without seeing him.

You could have just told me that.

I tried.

Will you help me find him?

I have direct orders from the Queen.

I'm sorry.

But, if I could, I'd start by tracking his phone using your father's access.

I don't know why you're asking me this again.

I'm the Prince Regent, and I've already answered these questions.

You've asked me to be thorough in this investigation.

I've asked you to dedicate your time and energy into discovering the identity of the man at the gates.

Yet here we are.

You don't like me, do you, Pryce?

Prince Liam stated you were in the tunnels before him.

And your daughter claimed she saw me lurking in the shadows.

Which you denied.

But you confirmed on the security footage.

Then why lie?

(He sighs)

Because I was with James Holloway. We were having s*x. He's a married man. I was trying to be honorable.

Well, as honorable as one can be while sneaking around and having s*x with a married man.

But these things are always a little... sticky.

Should I spell "fellatio" for you?

I'll speak with Mr. Holloway.

As always, I appreciate your time.

Pryce... I answered all of your questions twice. But you never answered mine.

No. I didn't. And, no, I don't like you.

Well done, you.

Tell Holloway I said hello.

If you're looking for him, you might try his closet.

(Rapid typing)

"Location not found"

You were waiting in the tunnel and I was with Ophelia... and I'll never forgive myself.

It's not your fault.

It's not Ophelia's fault.

And I think you already know that.

Besides, what was it I told you after Robert died?

Choose love.

Choose your own path.


I'm choosing my own path.

And that own path leads directly to a hangover.

Are you okay, fella?

Fella? Believe that?

One day it's Your Highness, the next day fella.

Who the hell are you talking to?

Just pour the drinks, Gogmagog.

What did you call me?

Google it... fella.

With all due respect, Your Majesty, may I ask what this is regarding?

You have a very unlikable face, Mr. Moorefield. You look shifty.

I've been told that, Your Majesty.

But if you're thinking I had anything to do with the King's attack...

No, I'm not.

Because, while you look shifty, you also look cowardly.

Besides, no-one named Nigel could ever, or will ever, fell a King.

I assume that isn't news to you.

I didn't ask you here to accuse you or to insult you.

I asked you here because should His Majesty not recover, changes to the succession plan must be made.

You want to deny Cyrus the throne.

Cyrus can have the throne.

But have you considered what happens following the reign of King Cyrus?

Mr. Moorefield... meet the two most important British subjects next to the King and the Prince Regent.

Which one of you is next in line?

I am.

But she was born in a leap year, so technically she's six.

Your name's "Moorefield", isn't it?

I'd like a little more in my field...

By "field", she means her v*g1n*.

Very good. Walk away.

I see your point.

But surely you understand that this entire scenario greatly enhances my position.

Not to mention Her Majesty's current position in the court of public opinion.

The anti-monarchist movement will never succeed.

You're like children casting stones at warships.

But what if I were to tell you you could have the very thing you seek?

The dismantling of the Monarchy.

With your name attached to it for the rest of time.

Should the King not recover, and should something befall Cyrus, I'm going to ask Parliament to place the Queen in power.

I shall need your support.

And, if I'm successful, in return... you'll have my support.

You'll be England's final monarch.

And you'll be the architect of whatever is to follow.

Would you really do that to your family?

My family's gone, Mr. Moorefield.

Once I'm also gone, you can burn it to the ground.

How's New York?

I have to find him.

Ophelia, I'm barely holding it together here.

You're supposed to be in New York.

Everything you're chasing is in New York.

Not everything.

Not the most important thing.

But are you the most important thing to him? He's royalty.

That will always come first.

You don't know that.

He's not the Heir to the throne now.

It doesn't matter. He'll continue to put himself first.

When are you going to start putting yourself first?

I am, Dad. Right now.

It's worth everything, Dad.

I have to try.

(Monitor beeping)

I'm sorry, Your Highness. I can't let you in.


Ross, it's me. Step aside.

We've been told, family only. I'm sorry.

"Family only"?

Says who?

Just a little eyebrow shaping and one of those bee pollen facials...


I have to go.

I am gonna kick your ass!

All the King's men...

It's that half-breed blood in her.

You're sitting on the throne.

You got what you wanted.

What does it matter to you if I am at my father's bedside?

He's not your father. You must let it go.

This is going to come back to you.

When the King wakes up - and he will - your little reign of terror will be over, so you better enjoy it.

Oh, I will. I am.

And I think you mean "if", not "when".

You think you're good at this?

You think you're the only one that can mess with people's lives?

You're not.

Are you threatening me?

No, I'm promising you.

Your day of reckoning is coming.

So dramatic.


Well, you can suck my dramatic dick, you desperate, reprehensible failure.

You better watch your back.

The hell is this?

We're redecorating...

Our new room.


Tell them we'll have a statement when we have a statement.

Oh, the King is dying and all they want to talk about is who I slept with 20 years ago.

I am the goddamn Queen of England.


His name is Brandon Boone.

24 years old, military, but he's recently gone AWOL from his unit.

Which was also Robert's unit.

MI5 has confirmed this information.

Agent Jeffreys is correct.

Brandon Boone was a member of Robert's military company.

And do we still think it's all a coincidence, Mr. Pryce?

What's going on here?

I asked Mr. Jeffreys to look into our suspect, independent of your investigation.

While you were busy focusing on me, it seems your young charge has done your job for you, Pryce.

Good work. But if you could give us a moment?

For more than 20 years, I've given my life to this family.

The King believed in me. He trusted me.

And look where that got him.

Find this Boone, Mr. Pryce.

Earn that trust. Walk away.

And tell your daughter the Prince Regent is now accepting apologies.

He was a giant. Gogmagog.

A detestable monster. They threw him off the cliff.

You can read.

Well done, you.

I can also add.

Time for you to close up your bar tab.

Here's the thing.

Yesterday I was supposed to become...

The next King of England. So?

So, people usually take care of these things for me...


Ask my security detail...

I don't actually have security any longer.

Shame. You could have used them.

You come into my bar, you sit there talking to yourself, you insult me, and now you don't want to pay for your drinks.

Perhaps I could make a call...

Right. (Laughs)

You know, some people liked the Gogmagog.

(Onlookers gasp)

Stay down! Your Highness.


Stay down!

Sit down, kid.

Have a pint.

On me.

You see that, Dad?

Daddy, will you tell Eleanor to give us back our new room?

Tell her yourself.

We tried, but she yelled at us.

And she pushed our faces.

She can't do that, can she?

No, but I can.

I just don't think it's fair that I am next in line to the throne after you die - hopefully soon and she acts like she's the princess.

She is a princess.

But the Queen told that sexy Moorefield guy that we were the most important people next to you and the King.

What Moorefield guy? Nigel Moorefield?

More like Nigel Yumfield.

When was this?

A while ago. He was nice.

You've done well, my incredibly dumb daughters.

Very well.

Let me ask you a question. Why did you keep getting up?

Where'd you get that strength?

My father.

He's dying. I don't think he's gonna make it.

Well, if that's where your fight comes from, I wouldn't count him out.

(Door opens)


(Door closes)

Well, you look like sh1t.

Yeah, well, your timing sucks.

You need to return to the palace.

There are some... things happening regarding the King's attack.

Not to mention, Ophelia's worried about you.

I can't go back. Not yet.


Marcus, don't call me Sir. Okay?

I can't go back just yet.

But I know you'll do everything you can to find justice for the King.

And Ophelia?

Just tell her I'm okay.

You should tell her yourself.

I would tell the truth.

I know you've been waiting.

I wanted to see you because I know this news affects you, as well.

You must be upset with me.

Why would I be upset with you?

Liam was this close to being the next King.

You might have been his Queen.

I really don't appreciate how everyone is underestimating me today.

Did you ever think maybe I actually had feelings for him?



Because you're a lot like me.

And because you said "had".

He's no longer in line for the throne.

If you loved him, you would have said "have".

Have, then.

I do love him, whether anyone believes it or understands it or not.

A girl has that prerogative when it comes to love.

Which is what you should say to the press.

The King was attacked. The people don't want to hear about love.

The people always want to hear about love.

They want their Queen to be honest and raw and vulnerable.

They want to see you as one of them.

I'm the Queen of England.

You are now, but once upon a time, you were simply a young girl who placed the duties of her family before her own heart's desire.

Eventually, your heart got the better of you and you slipped.

I was married to the King by then - and we had a son.

The heart wants what it wants.

But the marriage was arranged and you honored the pact like a dutiful daughter of England.

The people won't accept the idea of an arranged marriage.

They love the King.

And so do you.

With time, you found love again with your husband, the King of England.

You ask for time with your family, space for the children, and prayers for the King, blah blah blah.

Do you really love my son?

I don't know. Do I?


I thought I could do it.

Do what?

Be King.

Be great.

Turns out you're not even my father.

At least, now it's over.

It's hard sometimes, isn't it?

It's hard for all of us.

Why can't life be fair, reward the just... and the kind... and the good?

Life doesn't care about justice.

The world kicks your ass sometimes.

But you work through it.

You ask for help.

You try again.

And sometimes you have to fight back.

Sometimes you have to fight your way in.

This is where the plot thickens.


Don't leave me!



They've moved him back to the palace. I'm sorry.


I want to do a television interview, something seemingly informal, but controlled.

Call the team together.

If I could speak candidly, Your Majesty.

More candidly than revealing you're a dominatrix?

Please do.

People pay me excessive amounts of money because their bodies and hearts need things.

The two things most people have are secrets... and desires.

And quietly, behind all the noise and the facade of their daily lives, they'll understand those things... and forgive them.

I understand you had a visitor today. Nigel Moorefield?

Simply keeping our enemies close.

And is that what I'm doing, as well?

You're not even technically on the throne yet.

It's a little early to be so paranoid.

I simply thought we had a full disclosure relationship.

Full disclosure works both ways.

Meaning what, exactly?

Meaning I know where you went that night.

When I said I was disappointed in you... it's because I see what you can be.

Robert used to say the same thing.

But when he needed me, I wasn't there.

I told him I'd call.

Knowing what you meant to Robert... knowing how much he loved you... do you really think he would've chosen to leave you?

You already know the answer.

You just have to believe it.


In 30 seconds, that alarm goes off, so listen to me.

I have information for you.

(She moans)

Is this about my father?

It's about Robert.

You need to know you're not safe.

Who are you?

That's not important.

The St. Christina Bridge in Holborn.

Meet me beneath it tomorrow at midnight.

Trust no-one - especially not in the palace.

You expect me to just meet some psycho at midnight?

If you want to know about Robert's death, you will.

My brother didn't kill himself, did he?


He was murdered.


How do you know this?

'Cause I'm the one who killed him.