Queen Camilla ‘outraged’ after Prince Harry’s visit to see his father for “loving son PR stunt”, claims source

Sensational reports claim that Queen Camilla was left enraged by Prince Harry‘s decision to rush home across the Atlantic after hearing of his father’s cancer diagnosis without first getting palace approval.

RadarOnline, citing the National Enquirer, have today made bold claims regarding the fractious relationship between Camilla and her stepson, including that the former was responsible for the meeting between Harry and Charles being held to only thirty minutes.

Harry flew back to the UK from the US upon being informed of Charles’s cancer diagnosis – reportedly by Charles himself – but his return did not seem to set the stage for any future peace talks, as some had hoped.

Rather, Harry’s actual meeting with his father was kept brief, with the King reportedly journeying by helicopter to the royal estate of Sandringham. Harry, it has been rumored, was not permitted to follow.

Exactly what father and son talked about is not known, nor is it likely to be shared with the public moving forward. Details of Charles’ cancer have also been held back from public knowledge; we know the King is receiving treatment, but very few are privy to what sort of cancer he is suffering from, or what stage he is in.

In any case Harry’s recent trip to the UK wasn’t a big hit with all the royals. It’s been heavily rumored that Prince William had no intention of seeing his younger brother, and RadarOnline have today published a report suggesting that Queen Camilla was left seething as a result of her stepson’s actions.

“Her Majesty was furious Harry flew in from his ritzy California home without getting palace approval — and came with an attitude,” a source is said to have told the National Enquirer.

The same report states that Harry ordered that Camilla leave the room before he talked to his father – needless to say, this was not well received by Camilla.

“I’m told Camilla was outraged,” the source went on. “She’s taken a lot of bile from Harry for years and couldn’t wait to let him have it.”

Harry and Camilla have been at odds with one another for years now, allegedly stemming from Harry’s insistence that she was to blame for breaking up the marriage between Charles and Princess Diana.

“Camilla has taken it all on the chin, but using her husband’s cancer as a ‘loving son’ PR stunt was the last straw,” the source continued.

“After the father-son reunion, I hear she told Harry he’s a disgrace to his father, the family and the monarchy — and she left no doubt he isn’t wanted back!”

What do you think about the alleged animosity between Queen Camilla and Prince Harry? Let us know in the comments!

I WENT FOR AN ULTRASOUND AND SAW MY HUSBAND HUGGING A PREGNANT WOMAN — SO I SECRETLY FOLLOWED THEM

The ultrasound image, blurry yet undeniably real, still swam before my eyes. Two pink lines. Two tiny flickering lines that promised a future I had yearned for, a future I had almost given up on. After five years of longing, of disappointment, of tears shed in the quiet hours of the night, it was finally happening. I was pregnant.

But the joy that should have consumed me was quickly replaced by a chilling dread. As I walked out of the clinic, my eyes fell upon a scene that shattered my world. Ronald, my husband, stood in the hallway, his arms wrapped around a woman with a swollen belly. It wasn’t just a casual hug; it was a tender, intimate embrace, his hands resting gently on her burgeoning stomach.

A wave of nausea washed over me. Who was she? What was he doing here? The questions raced through my mind, each one sharper than the last. My carefully constructed world, the world I had envisioned with Ronald at the center, was crumbling before my eyes.

Gripping my purse tightly, I felt a surge of adrenaline. I couldn’t just stand there, frozen in disbelief. I had to know. I had to understand.

And so, I did something I never thought I would do. I followed them.

My heart pounded like a drum as I trailed behind them, my breath catching in my throat with every step. They walked slowly, their conversation hushed and intimate. I stayed hidden, peering through shop windows, ducking behind parked cars, feeling like a ghost in their world.

They turned down a narrow street, the houses quaint and old-fashioned. My gaze followed them to a small, two-story house with a rose bush spilling over the fence. This was it. Their destination.

I found a secluded spot across the street, my eyes glued to the window. The living room was cozy, filled with sunlight and the scent of freshly baked bread. They sat on a worn-out sofa, the pregnant woman gently stroking her belly. Ronald leaned in, his face radiating a warmth I had rarely seen directed towards me. He spoke softly, his voice filled with a tenderness that made my chest ache.

“I’m so excited, darling,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re going to be parents.”

The woman smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Me too, love. I can’t wait to meet our little one.”

“Our little one,” he repeated, the word hanging in the air.

The scene before me played out like a cruel, twisted movie. Their happiness, their shared dreams, mirrored my own, yet they were a mockery of my own hopes. I felt a wave of dizziness, the world tilting precariously on its axis.

As the afternoon wore on, I watched them. They laughed, they argued playfully, they planned for the future. I saw a love story unfold before my eyes, a love story that did not include me.

Finally, as dusk began to settle, they left the house, hand in hand. I watched them walk down the street, their silhouettes bathed in the fading light. And as they disappeared from view, I was left alone with the shattered pieces of my heart.

The walk back to my apartment was a blur. The joy of my pregnancy, the hope that had bloomed within me, felt like a distant memory. Betrayal, anger, and a deep, suffocating sadness consumed me. How could he? How could he do this to me?

That night, I cried myself to sleep, the ultrasound image of my tiny baby a bittersweet reminder of the shattered dreams. The next morning, I woke up with a resolve I didn’t know I possessed. I would not be a victim. I would fight for myself, for my baby, and for the future I had always envisioned.

The road ahead was uncertain, filled with pain and uncertainty. But I knew, deep down, that I would find my way. I would heal, I would be strong, and I would build a life for myself and my child, a life filled with love, joy, and happiness, a life that had nothing to do with him.

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