He is the Prince of Wales' son, the grandson of a reigning monarch, and fourth in line to the British throne — yet Prince Louis came within a technicality of growing up as plain "Master Louis." The reason lies in a century-old royal decree, one late Queen's timely intervention, and a rulebook that most people assume is far simpler than it actually is.
The George V Rule That Started It All
Royal titles are governed by letters patent — legal instruments issued by monarchs — and the most consequential of the modern era was issued by King George V in 1917. In the middle of the First World War, George V modernized the honors system and set a strict limit: the style His or Her Royal Highness, along with the title of Prince or Princess, would automatically belong only to the children of the monarch, the grandchildren through the sons of the monarch, and the eldest son of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales. Everyone else in the extended family was out of luck.
The rule made dynastic sense in 1917 — it kept the pool of formal royals small and defined. But it created an odd wrinkle for future generations: royal status depended not just on who your parent was, but on who happened to be sitting on the throne the day you were born.
Louis' Birth Came One Reign Too Early
Prince Louis was born on April 23, 2018, while Queen Elizabeth II was still on the throne. That mattered enormously. Under the George V framework, Louis was a great-grandchild of the reigning monarch — a category the 1917 rules simply did not cover. His older siblings, Prince George and Princess Charlotte, were in exactly the same position. George had a carve-out (as future eldest son of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales), but Charlotte and Louis did not automatically qualify.
Had nothing changed, the Wales children might have carried the untitled courtesy style used by non-royal descendants: Master Louis Cambridge or Master Louis Windsor — names that would have rewritten every headline of the past seven years.
The Queen's One-Word Fix
Before George's birth in 2013, Queen Elizabeth II solved the problem with a new letters patent declaring that all children of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales would hold the title Prince or Princess with Royal Highness. It was a small document with enormous consequences: it guaranteed that Charlotte and Louis, like George, would be born royal. Without it, today's Prince Louis would be Master Louis of nowhere in particular.
The decision also reflected modernization the Queen had already endorsed — most notably the 2013 Succession to the Crown Act, which ended male-preference primogeniture so that Charlotte would not be leapfrogged by any future younger brother. Titles, order, and gender were being quietly brought into the twenty-first century.
Archie: The Same Rule, Different Outcome
The 1917 framework resurfaced dramatically in a newer generation. When Prince Harry and Meghan Markle's son Archie was born in 2019, he was a great-grandchild of the reigning monarch — and therefore, like Louis, not automatically a prince. In the couple's televised interview with Oprah Winfrey, Meghan described discussions during her pregnancy suggesting Archie would not receive a royal title, and voiced concern that if titles determined security protection, her son could lose out on safety arrangements. Her remarks became one of the most contested moments of the entire Sussex saga.
Palace sources maintained that titles would follow established rules automatically, and indeed, when Charles III became king in 2022, Archie and his sister Lilibet became grandchildren of the monarch — and thereby entitled, as a birthright, to become Prince Archie and Princess Lilibet. A statement from the Sussexes confirmed the children's titles were their birthright and that the matter had been settled in agreement with Buckingham Palace. The couple has since used the titles sparingly, while debates about their children's place in the royal structure continue to simmer.
Why It All Matters Less Than You'd Think
Here is the ironic footnote: Louis' parents are reportedly relaxed about titles, and have indicated they want their children to have as ordinary an upbringing as possible. Some royal commentators even expected William and Catherine to decline HRH styles for their younger children when the time comes for their own letters patent as king. The line between "Prince" and "Master" matters enormously to constitutional lawyers and tabloid headline writers — and remarkably little to an eight-year-old more interested in sandcastles than styles.
The Takeaway
Prince Louis' near-miss with royalty is a reminder that the monarchy's traditions are not ancient runes but living documents — edited by monarchs in real time, for reasons both political and personal. One signature from Elizabeth II in 2012 shaped every birthday photo, every school photograph, and every line of coverage of the Wales children since. Louis is a prince today because his great-grandmother chose, a century after George V, that her great-grandchildren deserved better than a technicality.
