Let me tell you what happened in Leicester Square tonight, because it was better than the film. The Princess of Wales has not walked a red carpet since May 2022. In between came the year the family does not discuss: the surgery, the diagnosis, the video from the garden bench, the chemotherapy, the months when the country quietly counted the days. Tonight she walked one again. She wore purple. Deep plum, Jenny Packham, cut lower than she has ever dared, the colour of queens. Her hair was half up, so that you could see the earrings, and the earrings were Diana's pearls. At her throat, on a rope of pearls to the waist, hung an amethyst heart the size of a walnut. Queen Alexandra gave it to the Queen Mother in 1923, the year she married into the family. It has been worn through a war, an abdication and a century of clever men underestimating the women who wore it. This morning a book went on sale calling that Queen petty and the King a lottery winner on the morning Diana died. The family's reply to a week of it has been one sentence. Tonight the future Queen answered without one: she wore the Queen Mother's heart and Diana's pearls at the same time, and let the flashbulbs do the talking. And William. Black tie, half a step behind her on the carpet, in her light rather than his own, with the look of a man who walked behind a coffin at fifteen and has spent every year since making sure she would never be alone on a carpet, or in a hospital, or anywhere. She looked magnificent. Not because of the dress, though it was perfect, and not because of the necklace, though it was a hundred years of the family on a single strand. She looked magnificent because she looked well, and happy, and unafraid. The book will be in the bargain bins by Christmas. The amethyst goes back to the vault, until another woman wears it on another night for reasons nobody will need to explain. That is the difference between a family and a grievance. One of them lasts.

Prince Harry's lawsuits have a side effect nobody warns you about. The people near them keep going under. This week's entry, as reported by the Telegraph: Thomson Heath Jenkins, the law firm at the centre of his failed privacy case against the Daily Mail's publisher, has shut its doors and called in the insolvency practitioners. Seven claimants, seven solicitors, one firm, and a £50 million costs bill still to be divided up, with the Mail asking for it on the indemnity basis, which is the legal term for 'all of it.' Now scroll back. 2020: the Sussexes sue the Splash picture agency over the Canada photos. Splash UK goes into administration. They sue the US arm. It files for bankruptcy and cites the case. 2025: Sentebale, the charity he founded in his mother's memory, sues him for defamation. This week it paused the case because the legal costs threatened to close the charity itself. The HIV charity. For children. In Lesotho. 2026: the Daily Mail case, five years and seven celebrities in the making, thrown out after a High Court trial. The one firm holding it all together has now gone the way of Splash. And the Mail? Still publishing. Still solvent. Still, presumably, enjoying this. There's a word for a litigant whose opponents, co-claimants, lawyers and charities all end up in the insolvency courts while the newspaper he sued walks away whole. The word is expensive. He has lost every big case he took to a judge on his own, and the bill for the biggest is about to land with the one firm that could have argued about it already gone. Sympathy for the solicitors who've lost their jobs; none of this is their fault. But if you're a professional in Britain and Prince Harry calls to say he has a grievance he'd like to take to court, there's now a decade of evidence about how that ends. Let it ring.

Prince Harry's lawsuits have a side effect nobody warns you about. The people near them keep going under. This week's entry, as reported by the Telegraph: Thomson Heath Jenkins, the law firm at the centre of his failed privacy case against the Daily Mail's publisher, has shut its doors and called in the insolvency practitioners. Seven claimants, seven solicitors, one firm, and a £50 million costs bill still to be divided up, with the Mail asking for it on the indemnity basis, which is the legal term for 'all of it.' Now scroll back. 2020: the Sussexes sue the Splash picture agency over the Canada photos. Splash UK goes into administration. They sue the US arm. It files for bankruptcy and cites the case. 2025: Sentebale, the charity he founded in his mother's memory, sues him for defamation. This week it paused the case because the legal costs threatened to close the charity itself. The HIV charity. For children. In Lesotho. 2026: the Daily Mail case, five years and seven celebrities in the making, thrown out after a High Court trial. The one firm holding it all together has now gone the way of Splash. And the Mail? Still publishing. Still solvent. Still, presumably, enjoying this. There's a word for a litigant whose opponents, co-claimants, lawyers and charities all end up in the insolvency courts while the newspaper he sued walks away whole. The word is expensive. He has lost every big case he took to a judge on his own, and the bill for the biggest is about to land with the one firm that could have argued about it already gone. Sympathy for the solicitors who've lost their jobs; none of this is their fault. But if you're a professional in Britain and Prince Harry calls to say he has a grievance he'd like to take to court, there's now a decade of evidence about how that ends. Let it ring.

Ha! LOBATAN. #Markled

Catherine is playing the piano with one of the youngsters at EACH Hospice.

A warm, non-performative hug

Authenticity and love.

The Princess of Wales is out for EACH Hospice.