The situation surrounding Meghan Markle and the ongoing mystery of the Sussex children remains increasingly strange.
It’s worth considering how Meghan and Harry manage their children and why they remain so hidden from the public eye. This isn’t about targeting innocent kids—that’s precisely the issue. Where are they? Why are they so rarely seen while their mother, who thrives on publicity, is constantly in the spotlight? The few images that have been released raise even more questions. Look closely—these children seem to be growing at an unusual rate, yet they are conspicuously absent from nearly every major event or trip their parents embark on. It’s as if they only exist when a photo opportunity or PR stunt calls for their presence.
Analyzing the situation logically, the inconsistencies become even more apparent. The Sussexes attended the Invictus Games in January 2025, an event specifically celebrating families supporting wounded warriors. Other attendees brought their children, and kids were present everywhere. Yet Archie and Lilibet, supposedly five and three years old, were nowhere to be seen. Why? These are no longer fragile newborns but children perfectly capable of traveling—something Meghan herself has implied. So why weren’t they there to support their father at an event so central to his identity? The same question applies to their trips to Colombia, Nigeria, and Jamaica. Reports indicate that Meghan and Harry have taken nearly 100 trips over the past two years without their children. That’s an astounding number. With unlimited resources, private jets, and an army of nannies at their disposal, why are the kids consistently left behind?
Beyond their absence, the contradictions in Meghan and Harry’s narratives are striking. Harry once told Oprah that Archie’s first word was "crocodile"—a remarkably complex word for a baby. Parents immediately recognized how unlikely that was. Then, there’s the shifting timeline of Lilibet’s first steps, changing depending on the interview. Meghan’s recent appearance on The Drew Barrymore Show only added to the theatrics. She spoke about baking hundreds of cookies with her children for the audience—yet another instance of performative virtue signaling. It’s the same strategy influencers use when they film themselves giving money to the homeless. The act itself isn't the focus; the attention it generates is.
The photos released of Archie and Lilibet also invite scrutiny. Full, clear images of their faces are rare. There’s often something slightly off—whether it’s the timing, their appearance, or the overall resemblance. While there’s no direct claim of Photoshop manipulation, the possibility lingers. For a couple who left the royal family citing privacy concerns, they seem to strategically use their children to garner media sympathy when it suits them.
Meanwhile, in the UK, the real royals continue to lead by example. William and Catherine maintain a balance between protecting their children’s privacy and acknowledging their public roles. They bring them to appropriate events, share genuine milestones, and—most importantly—never exploit them for PR. Catherine’s handling of her recent health struggles stands in stark contrast to Meghan’s approach. She has navigated her challenges with grace, dignity, and no self-pity. There have been no leaks, no sensationalism—just quiet strength and a commitment to privacy until she was ready to share. That is true class.
In contrast, Meghan and Harry appear to use their children as leverage—whether against the King, the royal family, or the institution itself. It’s a game of emotional manipulation: give us what we want, or we’ll continue this charade and create further embarrassment. Why doesn’t King Charles demand proof of his grandchildren’s existence or even a DNA test? Because he’s trapped. Imagine the media frenzy: Cruel King Demands Proof of Grandchildren! Meghan and Harry have constructed the perfect no-win scenario, where any attempt to question them can be spun into yet another victimhood narrative.
What we are witnessing may be one of the most calculated PR maneuvers in modern history. By keeping their children largely out of sight, they cultivate an air of mystery. By releasing only selective images, they provide just enough visibility to prevent too many questions. By continuously referencing them in interviews without showing them, they maintain their portrayal as protective parents—while simultaneously using their children for emotional leverage.
The saddest part is the missed opportunities. If these children are truly royal, they are being denied so much. No bond with their cousins, no relationship with their grandfather—who isn’t getting any younger—and no connection to their rich heritage. All of it sacrificed for Meghan’s ambition and Harry’s resentment.
This situation cannot continue indefinitely. Eventually, these children will grow up. If they are who they are claimed to be, they will start asking questions. Why were we hidden? Why didn’t we know our family? What will Meghan and Harry say then? The cracks are already showing. Their Netflix and Spotify deals have not panned out as expected. Their books had initial success but faded quickly. What remains to be monetized? Their children. When public interest wanes, when sympathy dries up, and when new contracts need to be secured, we may suddenly see much more of Archie and Lilibet.
Meanwhile, the real working royals will continue their duties. William and Catherine will focus on meaningful charity work, responsible patronages, and supporting the King. They will continue to represent Britain with dignity while raising their children with both privacy and a sense of duty. That is what true royalty looks like. Meghan and Harry’s game will last only as long as people are willing to play along. Eventually, the public will move on, the royal family will endure, and the Sussexes will be left to deal with the consequences of their own choices.
As for these elusive royal children who appear and disappear like shadows, one can only hope they are real, truly loved, and, one day, free from being pawns in their parents’ never-ending drama.
