After three years of theatrical um-ing and ah-ing, the Prince and Princess of Wales have seemingly finally acceded to the obvious – Prince George would be going to Eton. For despite their perennial posturing at being a ‘modern’ royal family (is there such a thing?) there was really only one option. Eton is after all – somewhat paradoxically – the only place capable of offering any semblance of a normal adolescence for George, as well as mentally preparing him for kingship.

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To an outsider, this sounds ridiculous. How can prancing around in tailcoats while speaking unique slang (teachers are beaks; year 9 is F Block) have any bearing on normalcy? Yet normal is relative. One of the first things you realise at Eton is that the exceptional is unexceptional. You may have been the best batsman or mathematician at your prep school, but you’ve now got to settle for the C team or second set maths.

Even a sovereign wealth fund can’t help you on a muddy Field Game pitch (an Eton sport crossed between rugby and football where you have to keep running to stay onside) – house sport being the best means of proving your worth. Indeed, what’s a crown compared to getting to wear a natty........

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