All language subtitles for The Royals s01e03 Beasts.eng

If you could have been anything
at all, what would you have been?

King.

- I'm Liam's girlfriend.
- Ex-girlfriend.

From now on, Rachel will be
your social media adviser.

If we keep having coffee together,
it might turn into a real date.

I'm not posh. I don't speak French.

I've never owned a
designer dress in my life.

- None of which matters.
- I think it does.

Hey, Robbie...

... I miss you.

Look out for Liam, though.
I think he's gonna need it.

I know I've made mistakes.

I'd give it all up to have Robert back.

I've been told that I might
make a great king one day.

Just give me a chance.

Okay.

I am reconsidering
disbanding the Monarchy...

giving Liam some time to prove himself.

I'm reconsidering some things as well,

Your Majesty.

The Royals 01x03
We Are Pictures, or Mere Beasts

Synced & Corrected by Laulau
www.addic7ed.com

That is so your move.

If you're going to be completely
preoccupied by another woman,

you could at least fake it until I'm gone.

It's complicated.

It always is.

She have anything for you yet?

- Who?
- Ophelia.

You're texting her to try and find
out something to use against me.

I'm not texting Ophelia.

Ophelia has access to
Ted who has access to me.

That would be my play.

I'm from Nevada.

I grew up outside Las Vegas.

My parents were grifters and
thieves whose hearts were broken

when their only son decided to
work security in the casinos.

Eventually he became the best there was,

they disowned him - not that it mattered -

and he wound up in the bed of a princess.

The princess.

And not that I believe
you, why did you leave?

If you had it so good in Las Vegas.

Because Las Vegas is a
goddamn impossible way of life.

So is blackmail.

You have a panic button right there.

All you have to do is press it.

You might have the upper hand
right now, Jasper from wherever...

... but what you don't have is
permission to be here in the morning,

wearing that smug, arrogant,
"I win" look on your face.

Now get off.

And get out!

Now!

Last night was fun.

Let me know what Ophelia finds out.

Ophelia! Over here!

- Let go of me!
- Ophelia, it's me.

- It's Nick.
- Who?

Nick Roane from...

I write the music you rehearse to.

Oh. Sorry, I...

I clearly made an impression.

Uh, we better go. You need a ride?

Uh... yeah. I guess I do.

I'm not a stalker, Ophelia.

I have to imagine all stalkers
say that... before they stalk.

Likely true.

Who are you, anyway?

What? I'm... You just said...

To them. The paps. It
doesn't really matter.

I pretty much just live in my
studio and avoid social media.

That's odd.

You're being chased by desperate
overweight men with digital cameras,

and I'm the odd one?

Hop on.

Fantastic. No, that's great news.

Her Majesty will be pleased.

Goodbye.

Good news. Tom Ford just personally
delivered a few new pieces.

- What's Eleanor wearing?
- Whatever she woke up in, I assume.

Minus the knickers.

My predecessors saved Prussia, and
I'm posing for London Fashion Week.

- You're promoting British designers.
- Why do I have to wear this?

- Someone needs to look royal.
- Ridiculous.

I don't even get to wear Alexander McQueen.

Ah. Liam.

You look tired, Darling. Come here.

Mm.

I smell super model. Poor Gemma.

Bonj.

Good God. You can't wear
that for the photo-shoot.

What, this? I haven't changed yet.

Mine's supposed to be ironic.

Come on, Frosty.

Liam, I know this is normally the week
you feed, but your schedule is exhaustive.

Welcome to the rare air, my son.

If it's any consolation,
your father is in a foul mood.

I think you and Liberace might
have something to do with that.

Oh, my peacock. Any news?

The seeds you planted at the
garden party have flowered nicely.

Chancellor Moody has given an interview

extolling the virtues and importance
of the Monarchy, now more than ever.

What in God's name did you promise him?

Liam's wedding. And nine billion
British pounds. Front cover?

We're trying. You know they always reserve
the cover for some slut in lingerie.

I want the front page.
Let me know when it runs.

This is perfect. Thank you.

You live in a cheese shop?

Uh... no. I just...

You still think I'm a stalker.

- No... I um...
- It's fine.

It was good to finally talk to you.

I've wanted to.

Thank you. I appreciate it.

That's what I do. Well,
actually it's not but...

... I'm glad I did.

I'll see you.

Just me.

Classic or avant garde?

Either way, you'll look stunning in purple.

It's regal. It's elegant. It's...

- Taken.
- Absolutely not.

You know I'm wearing
purple. You purposely...

- Bagsy.
- You can't call bagsy.

I can and I did. I called bagsy on purple.

So purple is mine. Bagsy.

- Lucius?
- Well, um...

regrettably, there is no higher
authority than bagsy, Your Majesty.

Oh, for God's sake.

- The cover?
- Page two.

Who got the cover?
Another slut in lingerie?

Your words, not mine.

Oh! Oh.

"... Her Majesty the Queen recently
wasted the people's hard-earned money,

over 50,000 pounds,

on a small batch of overpriced lingerie.

How did they get this? It
has to be an inside job.

It certainly was.

It seems their informant is
standing in this very room.

Wearing purple.

- Well?
- That's for messing with my social media.

At least they photoshopped your face
on a younger woman's body, Mother.

Walk away. Everyone but you. Go.

Do you think this hurts me?

It seems like it somewhat upsets you. Yes.

It doesn't. It hurts you.

'Cause when the people read this

and when they vote to disband the Monarchy,

you're gonna realize that you need
this world more than any of us.

Remind me what your talents are,

other than ingesting other people's drugs

and being young and... somewhat attractive?

For now.

You do nothing.

You contribute nothing.

And when all this goes
away, you're gonna be...

nothing.

Yes, and you'll be the same.

Only older.

No, I'll be fine.

But we both know you won't be.

Dad, I'm home!

What's "bagsy"?

Well, you should know,
Jasper from Shoreditch.

I mean Nevada.

Bagsy is like "dibs" in America.

So I called bagsy on the
color purple so purple is mine.

No matter what.

The purple looks nice, but for what
it's worth, you look sexier in black.

Yes, well, that might be worth something
if it weren't coming from you, Jasper.

But as it is, it's worth
nothing. Off you go.

So, Princess, still licking your
wounds after our little tiff?

Far too busy to lick my wounds, Mother.

I have a fashion show to plan.

- You've a what?
- A fashion show.

My fashion show.

Which just so happens to be on the
same night as your fashion show.

Don't be so ridiculous.

You know my event is the
pinnacle of Fashion Week.

You'll be setting yourself up
for illicit public scrutiny.

Not to mention global ridicule from the
press when your show is less than mine.

Mm. Unless, of course, it's more
than yours... which it will be.

You want to call me nothing?
You say I have no talent?

Okay, well, I guess now we'll see.

Game on, Queen.

Oh. Look.

It's my location scout for my fashion show.

I'll have to take this.

Speak.

I love it. Yep, best location ever.

Our show's gonna be the
talk of Fashion Week.

Excuse me.

- You're late.
- Sorry.

You said you wanted to dedicate
yourself to the Monarchy,

and you show up drunk and tardy.

I'm not drunk. I'm... hung-over.

And I'm five minutes late
because Mom insisted I try on

every last Matthew Owens suit
in England for the photo-shoot.

- You're wearing Matthew Owens?
- Yes.

- What's Cyrus wearing?
- Alexander McQueen, I suppose.

Son of a bitch.

They get under my skin...
your mother and Cyrus.

I can see that.

Tomorrow I want you to accompany me

to a meeting with the leader
of the antimonarchists.

Why? Those people hate us.

Maybe they hate us, maybe
they hate the institution.

Regardless, as in most matters, son, it's
important to have both points of view.

I'd like to hear theirs.
I think you should, too.

Now...

Now we're about to meet
the Dragon King of Maruvia.

He's traveled quite a distance
to spend a few minutes with us.

The least we can do is be on time.

Your Majesty. My apologies
for keeping you waiting.

Please. It is an honor
to be in your home...

and a pleasure to see you again.

May I introduce you to my son,
His Royal Highness Prince Liam.

- It's a pleasure to meet you, sir.
- The pleasure is mine.

I would like to present you with
this handcrafted bow and arrow.

The bow steady and true, like your father.

The arrows strong and sure like the son.

Alone... ineffective.

But together... undeniable.

Please accept these gifts,

and know that your family inspires us all.

Normally, tourists gather here

to witness the changing of the guard.

Soon, the fashion world may witness
its own changing of the guard,

as Her Royal Highness Princess Eleanor

looks set to upstage Her Majesty the Queen

with her own look at couture British
designs, something the global...

For decades I've been
promoting British fashion.

I've made countless
designers household names.

Now my spoiled daughter throws a
tantrum and it's international news.

Your show takes place in the Palace.

No-one can better that.

Mm. Perhaps it's time for a change.

Find out where her show is taking place.

See what Tweedledee
and Tweedledumbass know.

Ah. My daughter's security detail.

You wouldn't happen to know where the
Princess is having her fashion show?

Regrettably no, Your Majesty.

- Your name's Jasper?
- Yes, Your Majesty.

Repeat this back to me.

The thieving thief thought
he thrilled the throne.

The thieving thief thought
he thrilled the throne.

- Where were you raised, Jasper?
- Shoreditch, Your Majesty.

Funny. I don't hear the slightest
hint of Shoreditch in your accent.

I had elocution lessons, Ma'am.

Who has elocution lessons?

Someone with something to hide.

We all keep our secrets.

But, inevitably, our secrets keep us.

I'll be watching you, bodyguard.

- So this is it, huh?
- Hey.

Yeah. So, what do you think?

And also you can do this. Hello.

It's not bad.

Yeah, okay, so does that mean we can...

I don't know, um, be in the Fashion Show?

Can I trust you?

- Absolutely.
- Well, mostly me.

Fine.

But you two dum dums better pluck, wax
and laser everything. And not a word.

Have a plan?

Sorry.

Yeah. I have... these. Sunglasses.

Mm. You look like you...
in large sunglasses.

Maybe try a funny nose and moustache.

Do you have a better idea?

Is it okay if I have to make a stop?

Laundry can't talk.

Ophelia!

- Ophelia!
- Ophelia!

After this I want you to sit in on my
weekly audience with the Prime Minister.

You'll be riveted.

You'll forgive me if I don't bow.

- No, we won't forgive you.
- Son.

It's disrespectful.

And what have you done that
merits my respect, young prince?

Apart from make a few
headlines and stain the flag?

I understand what you stand for

and while I disagree with you, I
haven't come here to disrespect you.

But as this is Great Britain and you
are, in fact, one of its children,

you will not disrespect your King.

As you can understand, it's
not often the King of England

asks to sit down with the very people
whose mission it is to end his reign.

We do acknowledge that you're a fine King.

A great King.

A great King.

But, you see, Prince Liam,
you advance our argument.

Who we bow down to shouldn't
be left to chance or bloodline.

We have the right to choose
our own leaders, our own kings.

And when your father is
gone, who will be our King?

Hm. You?

Appointed. Not elected.

And with what merit?

Ooh. That's... not entirely uncomfortable.

Oh, quite nice, actually.

All the King's men.

What could you possibly need that for?

We're meant to be in Lenny's show.

Modeling what, Ed Hardy butt plugs?

- He has a point.
- Just keep going.

Where is the fashion show?

- Oh.
- Dear... Dethroned...

Oh.

We'll need a backstage area
over there, and a VIP...

- Darling.
- What are you doing here?

This is the site of my fashion show.

- No, this is the site of my...
- Bagsy.

You took purple, I take tunnel.

So, now I have a location
and you have... nothing.

Here we are. Home sweet cheese shop.

Or I could walk you to the palace.

I Googled you.

Do you know you can use the
internet to find all kinds of stuff?

- It's amazing, really.
- Welcome to 1996.

What are they saying?

They're saying you're a
coffee-swilling American

who's dating the next King of England.

I'm not American. Just raised there.

It's not coffee, it's chai.

And we're not dating.
We're just hanging out.

Sounds paparazzi worthy.

Which, if you knew my life, you'd
know how completely ridiculous that is.

My father is the King's head of security.

The first time I brought you home,

I thought you didn't want me to see
your house because you were embarrassed.

Who says I'm not?

Normally, this is the moment
I'd ask you out, but...

to be honest, I'm more of a
dating not hanging out kind of guy.

It's a problem. I know.

It's nice, actually.

If you get it all sorted and want to
have a proper date, you have my number.

Good luck with the paps.

Our daughter finally dedicates herself

to something other than self-sabotage

and you pilfer her location
as well as her enthusiasm.

Have you not challenged Liam this week?

But I haven't competed with him.

Eleanor does her best when she feels
her whole life is one great injustice.

She needs a good adversary.

She needs a good mother.

She needs an adversary more.

I don't know how Robert did it.

Maybe he did loads of drugs
that we never knew about.

Here.

I have a ton of stuff left on my
royal calendar. I can't get high.

I got news for you, big
brother by four minutes.

That calendar is the very reason
they invented getting high.

Hit the bong. You want to. You need to.

Here's a thought.

Why don't we go out
tonight, like old times?

Yeah. I could do that.

Yeah, that's the spirit.

I can tell when you need to get out
of your head, especially about Ophelia.

So whatever you did, or whoever you did...

... we'll go out and we'll do something
worse and it won't seem so bad.

It's just been one of
those weeks, you know.

Yeah. Of course it has.

It's Fashion Week, you know,
which makes everyone horny.

Really?

What?

This is to forget Ophelia.

- Who?
- Well done.

And these are for whatever
whore you wake up with tomorrow.

Oh, hello, Gemma.

I heard that and I'm okay with it.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

You have a problem.

The King and Prince Liam have
recently met with the antimonarchists.

- And?
- If things develop, you'll know about it.

They trust me. For now.

Someone's proving himself to be as
capable outside the bedroom, as in.

And someone's been to the esthetician.

No use wasting a good bleaching.

Back to the palace, Your Highness?

Nice try.

We're following Liam and
Gemma to an after hours.

So blackmail sex will have to
wait tonight, Jasper from Nevada.

Or is it Jasper from Shoreditch?

Or is it little orphan Jasper

from the orphanage in Camden?

Oh.

Advantage Eleanor and Ophelia.

You don't want me to drive, sir?

You are not driving my car, Marcus.

So sit back and disappear
like you're supposed to.

I'm fine.

And you're fine tonight too, baby.

You look sexy in that suit.

I'll bet you taste sexy, too.

Gemma. Whoa.

- Just drive the car.
- I don't think this is very prudent, sir.

Gemma, seriously. Look out!

- Are you okay, sir?
- I'm fine.

- Are you sure?
- I'm fine.

- Gem, you okay?
- Ouch.

- Let's get you some air.
- We should go, sir.

- I'm not leaving her.
- I'll make a call. We need to go.

- How can you suggest that?
- You're the next King, sir.

I'm not leaving her.

Remove your hands from His Royal Highness.

You gonna shoot me for
following extraction protocol?

- Is he okay?
- He was until Jasper knocked him out.

- Why?
- I'm trying to get him out of here.

I suggested extraction and
he made a decision to stay.

Well, he's an idiot, but you
aren't. You know we can't stay here.

Let's go.

He's right. Go.

You didn't have to punch me.

In crises, we need to
initiate extraction protocol.

- Gemma could have been injured.
- Gemma wasn't injured.

She was just horny. I blame Fashion Week.

My apologies if my
actions seemed aggressive.

I needed to remove you from the scene.

He did get you out of
there before anyone saw us.

Sir. His Majesty the King would
like to see you immediately.

Maybe someone did see us.

Liam...

If Dad calls you on it,
just tell him the truth.

Except the part about Jasper punching you.

It would be a shame for
this little game of yours

to end on a technicality

right before I defeat you fair and square.

Close the door behind you.

I need to find a new
location for my fashion show.

One of the most important lessons
I learned from my time in Vegas...

Allegedly.

Don't just play your hand.

Play your opponent's hand against them.

Disappointing news about Gemma.

She's okay, though.

- Did you see her last night?
- Yeah. I saw her.

Page five. I don't have to tell
you where the article appears

had you been in the car.
I'm glad you weren't.

For more reasons than just the headline.

- Thanks, Dad.
- Fashion Week, eh?

- Makes everyone crazy.
- Yeah.

I heard something like that.

Son...

I asked you here... because I know...

... the effort you've been making.

The dedication to the Crown.

I know how hard you've been working...

... and I'm proud of you.

I'm not doing that great.

Hello, darling.

You're a bit early. Are
you here for the open bar?

No, actually I came to thank
you... for taking the bait.

And to give you an invitation to my show.

At the palace? My old location.

My new location.

See, I knew those two dimwits
couldn't keep a secret.

It was your spot I wanted all along.

Well, as long as you're happy.

For me, tunnel is the new palace.

Well, we'll let the press decide.

Until then, Mother, I'll
be at the palace, and you...

you enjoy your time down here
with the rest of the rats.

Eleanor.

This was something I cared about.

It was prestigious to
be selected for my show.

If that doesn't matter
to you... maybe this will.

I've spent my life cultivating
the image of this family,

deciding who sees us and how they see us.

Living your life in the public eye
and making mistakes is one thing.

But to maliciously undo the work I've done,

the steps I've taken to
protect you and this family,

it's unforgivable. You
want the press to decide?

Fine.

But as far as I'm concerned, the
press shouldn't decide anything for us.

Or about us. Ever.

Yeah, you bitches better applaud.

- Hey. Oph.
- Hey, Gemma. Are you okay?

Of course. Why wouldn't I be?

- The car accident.
- Oh, that.

Our lawyers will fix it.

- First Fashion Week?
- First fashion show.

That's so cute.

Have you seen Liam?

He's over there, with that
insanely beautiful woman.

Tiara. Right. They have sex.

Doesn't that bother you?

He's the heir to the throne.

Women love power. Liam loves women.

Comes with the territory.

Always ducking me in a crowd.

I was just... I mean, this is all so...

I agree.

Come on.

- How have you been?
- Good.

- How have you been?
- Busy.

But it's been good. There's
a lot to learn and...

I've been busy, too. School and rehearsing.

Same as ever, I guess.

I don't want to do this, you know?

Not with you.

- Do what?
- Make small talk.

Gemma's car accident...

I was with her.

I didn't lie to my father...

... but I didn't tell
him the truth, either.

I'm not proud of that.

I'm not proud of any of it.

I don't even know why
I'm telling you all this.

I don't know either. But
it's okay that you are.

It's just um...

I don't want to lie to you about it.

Even when I'm not proud of it, it's
important to me that you know the truth.

Can I ask you something?

How did the press not
know about you and Gemma?

There's an extraction protocol.

So you just left her there?

I have to.

It's good seeing you.

It always is.

So what's your impression
of Liam's efforts so far?

He cares now. He has something to lose.

We all have something to lose.

Then he has something to gain.

Let's put him on the plane tour,

see how the people respond to him.

The plane tour. My plane tour?

It's more important for Liam.

The plane tour is the one chance I
have to curry favor with the people.

I understand.

But you're not the next King of England.

Enjoying your victory?

The press certainly had nice
things to say about your work.

They had nice things to
say about your show, too.

Yes.

But they raved about yours.

Princess becomes Queen of Fashion Week.

- Who wrote that one?
- Charlemagne Cullingford.

Oh, Charlemagne. Did
you see him at your show?

No, but, you know, I was
really busy backstage, so...

Mm. Funny.

I saw him at mine.

But how could he...

It was your first fashion show, sweetheart.

You told them to print these?

When you succeed, the Monarchy succeeds.

See? I can plant stories, too.

- Just get out.
- I heard what she said.

She's lying.

Well, you'd know about that.

I don't even know who you are.

I'm a British orphan.

Or... an American grifter.

One thing I do know is that
I'm lying about something.

The Queen...

is lying about everything.

But those reviewers...
they're telling the truth.

A simple thank you would suffice.

- For what?
- For cleaning up your mess

when you leave your drunk diamond
heiress at the scene of the crime.

"Drunken heiress destroys
quaint telephone box

and Heir to the Throne emerges
with his trousers undone."

There are security cameras everywhere.

- It wasn't like that.
- When will you learn?

It doesn't matter what it was
like, it matters what it looks like.

And even that no longer matters
because I took care of it.

Okay.

You don't have to say thank you.

You don't have to show
an ounce of gratitude.

But the next time you look at me
with such disdain in your eyes,

you consider how similar we are.

- I'm nothing like you.
- No?

The spare who sleeps around,

drinks to excess,

slinks away from an accident
and then lies about it.

No, you're nothing like me at all.

I know I haven't been at my best this week.

The truth is, it's the first family
photo we've taken without Robert.

You need to be better to your children.

We may not always be a Monarchy...

... but we'll always be a family.

It's a little late for that, isn't it?

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