Every time the dust seems to settle, another wave of tension crashes over the House of Windsor—and more often than not, it comes from the Sussexes. Prince Harry and Meghan Markle, once hailed as the modernizers who could breathe fresh life into the monarchy, have instead become its most relentless critics. For King Charles and Prince William, the cruelty feels never-ending, a steady drip of accusations, grievances, and public attacks that leave the monarchy scrambling to defend itself. But the bigger question remains: why do Harry and Meghan keep piling on?
To understand, you have to look back at the root of their departure. For Harry, leaving the UK was never just about seeking freedom; it was about escaping what he saw as a toxic environment that failed to protect Meghan and, by extension, their children. He believes the Crown, led by his father and upheld by his brother, stood by while Meghan was torn apart by the press. That sense of betrayal has hardened into a narrative where Charles and William represent not just family but the institution that abandoned him.
Meghan’s motivations are different, yet they intertwine with Harry’s. For her, the monarchy symbolized endless scrutiny and rules that clipped her independence. Every clash with courtiers, every story in the press that painted her as difficult, every icy reception at palace events became fuel for her resentment. In her eyes, Charles and William were not just bystanders—they were enforcers of the same system that, she believes, pushed her to breaking point.
What makes their criticism sting all the more is its consistency. Whether in interviews, documentaries, or carefully chosen leaks, the Sussexes’ attacks are rarely direct but always cutting. They suggest coldness in Charles, jealousy in William, and an institution more concerned with image than humanity. To the public, these revelations are dramatic and compelling; to the royals, they feel like cruelty disguised as “truth-telling.”
For William, the toll is immense. He has carried the burden of preparing for kingship while watching his brother dismantle their bond in public. For Charles, it is more than a son’s rebellion—it is a threat to the unity of a monarchy he has fought decades to steady. Every new comment from Harry and Meghan keeps old wounds open, making reconciliation almost impossible.
But why keep going? The answer lies in power. Outside the royal bubble, the Sussexes have built a brand on their story of struggle and survival. Their narrative relies on positioning themselves as victims of an uncaring institution, and that means Charles and William inevitably become the villains. The more dramatic the rift, the more compelling their platform. Silence, for them, risks irrelevance.
So the cruelty continues, not because the Sussexes have nothing left to say, but because saying it keeps them alive in the spotlight. For Charles and William, it is a never-ending cycle of damage control. And for the world watching, it is the tragic unraveling of a once unshakable royal bond—now fractured into something darker, colder, and painfully permanent.