Prince Harry has received a public show of support from a European royal (Image: Getty)

Prince Harry has received an outpouring of sympathy from a European royal, who says she “feels sorry” for the King’s youngest son. Princess Delphine of Belgium discussed Harry’s situation when appearing on It’s Reigning Men podcast, where she said she “understands” Prince Harry and “feels sorry for him” as “everyone is bullying him”.

In a new interview on the It’s Reigning Men podcast, the princess says: “I do follow a little bit of Harry because Lady Diana was just part of my life when I was in England… Then she had these children and everything, and then this death was just horrible… I feel very sorry for Harry because I think that was traumatic for him.

think Harry suffered so much, and I think he was traumatised and it’s coming out now.”

The Princess continued: “This thing about security. I think it’s to do with what happened to his mother.

“I understand the guy. He’s just traumatised. And I understand, so he’s doing these things, and everybody’s bullying him, but not thinking about his trauma. And I just find it terrible because he’s just been kind of left.”

Princess Delphine is the half-sister of King Philippe of Belgium, and the illegitimate daughter of the former monarch, King Albert II who had a near 20 year affair with Delphine’s mother.

After winning a court case for a DNA test which proved his paternity, Delphine won a separate landmark ruling five years ago entitling her to be titled a Princess and styled as ‘Her Royal Highness’

Although Princess Delphine claims it’s “still not right” she’s not included in the line of succession to the Belgian throne.

In a rare and heartfelt show of solidarity across royal lines, Prince Harry has found an unexpected ally in Princess Delphine of Belgium—a woman who knows all too well what it means to live in the shadow of royal controversy and public scrutiny. Her words, delivered on the “It’s Reigning Men” podcast, have struck a chord not just with Harry’s supporters, but with anyone who has ever felt the sting of exclusion, the ache of being misunderstood, or the loneliness of carrying a burden that the world seems determined to misinterpret.

Delphine, herself no stranger to the sharp edges of royal life, spoke with a candor and empathy that felt refreshingly honest in a world where palace walls are more often lined with silence than with support. “I do follow a little bit of Harry because Lady Diana was just part of my life when I was in England… Then she had these children and everything, and then this death was just horrible… I feel very sorry for Harry because I think that was traumatic for him,” she confided, her voice echoing the sentiments of millions who watched the young princes walk behind their mother’s coffin all those years ago.

It’s easy to forget, in the swirl of headlines and endless commentary, that Prince Harry is not just a headline or a tabloid fixture—he’s a man who lost his mother in the most public, brutal way imaginable. Princess Delphine, reflecting on her own complicated journey through the royal maze, seemed to see through the noise and into the heart of the matter. “I think Harry suffered so much, and I think he was traumatised and it’s coming out now,” she said, gently but firmly. Her words cut through the gossip and speculation, landing with the weight of someone who has walked a similar path.

Delphine’s own story is the stuff of modern royal legend. For decades, she lived as the secret daughter of King Albert II, the product of a nearly 20-year affair. Her fight for recognition was not just a legal battle but a deeply personal quest for truth and dignity. After a court-ordered DNA test confirmed her paternity, Delphine finally won the right to be called “Her Royal Highness” five years ago—a victory that was as much about belonging as it was about titles. Yet, as she herself has pointed out, she remains excluded from the Belgian line of succession, a reminder that even in victory, the wounds of exclusion can linger.

So when Delphine speaks of Harry’s pain, it’s not as an outsider looking in, but as a fellow traveler on the rocky road of royal life. “This thing about security. I think it’s to do with what happened to his mother,” she observed, referencing Harry’s well-publicized concerns about safety for himself and his family. It’s a point that’s often lost in the noise: for Harry, the fear isn’t abstract—it’s rooted in the trauma of losing his mother to a tragedy that many believe could have been prevented.

“I understand the guy. He’s just traumatised. And I understand, so he’s doing these things, and everybody’s bullying him, but not thinking about his trauma. And I just find it terrible because he’s just been kind of left,” Delphine continued, her words tinged with both sadness and frustration. It’s a sentiment that resonates far beyond the gilded halls of palaces and the pages of glossy magazines. In a world that so often demands stoicism from its men—especially those born into privilege—Delphine’s empathy is a reminder that pain is pain, no matter your postcode or pedigree.

It’s hard not to draw parallels between Delphine’s journey and Harry’s ongoing struggle for acceptance and understanding. Both have faced relentless media attention, both have been painted as troublemakers simply for telling their truths, and both have, at times, been left feeling like outsiders in the very families that should have sheltered them. For Delphine, the fight for her name and title was about more than protocol—it was about being seen, being heard, and being acknowledged. For Harry, the battle has been much the same, though played out on a far larger and more unforgiving stage.

What’s striking about Delphine’s comments is not just her sympathy, but her insight. She understands, perhaps better than most, that the wounds of childhood loss and public rejection can shape a person’s entire life. When she talks about Harry being “bullied,” she’s not just referring to the tabloid press or the trolls on social media—she’s talking about a culture that too often confuses vulnerability with weakness, and honesty with betrayal. In speaking out, Delphine is offering Harry—and, by extension, anyone who has ever felt alone in their pain—a lifeline, a reminder that empathy is possible, even in the most unlikely of places.

Of course, Delphine’s own royal credentials are as unconventional as they come. As the half-sister of King Philippe of Belgium, and the daughter of a king who denied her for years, she has had to carve out her own place in a family that was, for much of her life, determined to keep her out. Her victory in the courts was a watershed moment, not just for her but for anyone who has ever fought to be recognized for who they are. And yet, as she herself admits, “it’s still not right” that she remains excluded from the line of succession—a bittersweet reminder that some doors, once closed, are never fully opened.

For Harry, the parallels are impossible to ignore. Like Delphine, he has spent much of his life trying to balance loyalty to his family with the need to protect his own mental health and the well-being of his wife and children. Like Delphine, he has faced criticism at every turn—accused of being selfish, ungrateful, or even disloyal, simply for speaking his truth. And like Delphine, he has discovered that the price of honesty can be steep, but the cost of silence is even higher.

In the end, Princess Delphine’s words are a powerful reminder that the royal experience, for all its privilege and pageantry, can also be one of profound loneliness and pain. Her willingness to speak out, to offer not just sympathy but understanding, is a gift—not just to Harry, but to anyone who has ever felt like an outsider in their own story.

As the podcast episode made its way around the world, fans and commentators alike praised Delphine for her bravery and compassion. In a world that so often pits royals against each other, her decision to reach out across borders and bloodlines is a testament to the power of empathy. For Harry, it may not change the headlines or silence the critics, but it is a reminder that he is not alone—and that sometimes, the most unexpected voices can offer the most profound comfort.

For those who have watched Harry’s journey—from the heartbreak of Diana’s death, through the tumult of royal life, to his new chapter in America—Delphine’s words are a balm. They remind us that behind the titles and the tiaras, behind the duty and the drama, there are real people, with real wounds, doing their best to find their way in a world that is often anything but kind.

And perhaps, in the end, that is the lesson we should all take from this royal connection: that kindness, understanding, and the courage to speak out can bridge even the widest of divides. In a world hungry for compassion, Princess Delphine’s message rings clear—no one, not even a prince, should have to face their pain alone.