In a rare moment of raw vulnerability, Prince William, the Prince of Wales, has peeled back the layers of his poised public persona to share the profound emotional toll of his wife, Catherine, Princess of Wales’s, battle with cancer. Speaking candidly in an upcoming episode of Apple TV+’s travel series The Reluctant Traveler with host Eugene Levy, William opened up about the whirlwind of 2024—a year he described as the most challenging of his life. What began as a shocking diagnosis for Catherine in early 2024, followed swiftly by King Charles III’s own health struggles, thrust the royal family into uncharted emotional territory. Yet, amid the darkness, William’s words paint a portrait of resilience, quiet heroism, and an unwavering commitment to family that has carried them through.

The interview, filmed during a trek through the Scottish Highlands, marks one of William’s most personal disclosures to date. At 43, the future king has long been known for his measured demeanor and dedication to duty, but here, away from the glare of official engagements, he confronts the human side of monarchy: the fear, the fragility, and the fierce love that binds it all. Catherine’s journey with cancer, announced publicly in March 2024 after months of speculation and surgery for what was initially described as a non-cancerous condition, became a global story of grace under pressure. What started as preventative chemotherapy revealed a more aggressive foe, forcing the princess to step back from her high-profile role while undergoing treatment. William, ever the steadfast partner, found himself thrust into the role of protector—not just for his wife, but for their three young children: Prince George, 12; Princess Charlotte, 10; and Prince Louis, 7.

Reflecting on the initial blow, William likened the diagnoses to having “the rug pulled from under our feet.” It was a sudden, disorienting shift that upended the stable world he had so carefully built. “We’ve been very lucky; we haven’t had many illnesses in the family for a very long time,” he admitted, his voice carrying the weight of that unexpected vulnerability. The prince explained how illness can “take you into some pretty not great places,” a stark reminder that even those in the most privileged positions are not immune to life’s capricious cruelties. For William, the double whammy of Catherine’s and his father’s cancers felt like a blindsiding ambush, compressing years of worry into mere months. “It was the hardest year that I’ve ever had,” he confessed, his words echoing the quiet desperation many families face in private crises.

At the heart of William’s narrative is his profound admiration for Catherine’s courage. Diagnosed just weeks after undergoing abdominal surgery in January 2024, the princess faced her illness with a poise that William credits as her greatest strength. “I’m so proud of my wife,” he said, his tone laced with a mix of awe and gratitude. Throughout her treatment, Catherine maintained a semblance of normalcy, issuing a deeply moving video message in March to explain her condition and quell rampant rumors. She spoke then of the shock of the diagnosis and her determination to focus on healing, but it was William who shouldered the invisible load: coordinating family logistics, shielding her from public scrutiny, and ensuring their children felt the warmth of routine amid the chaos.

Catherine’s treatment regimen was grueling—weeks of chemotherapy that left her fatigued and isolated from the spotlight she once commanded. Royal watchers recall the poignant images of her gradual return: a tentative appearance at Trooping the Colour in June, her first public outing since the announcement, where she beamed at her children from the Buckingham Palace balcony despite visible exhaustion. By summer, she had completed her course of treatment, and in a subtle yet powerful update during the interview, William shared that she is now in remission. “Things are good. Everything is progressing in the right way, which is all good news,” he told Levy, before confirming with quiet relief, “It’s great news.” This milestone, nine months after her public revelation, signals a turning point, though William was quick to note that recovery is an ongoing process, one marked by cautious optimism rather than outright celebration.

Yet, beneath the relief lies the scars of the ordeal. William delved into the psychological undercurrents, revealing how “stuff to do with family overwhelms me quite a bit.” The prince, who has spent decades advocating for mental health through initiatives like Heads Together, turned the lens inward. He spoke of the “worry or stress around the family side of things” as the true disruptor, more personal and piercing than any professional demand. “When it’s to do with family… that’s where I start getting a bit overwhelmed—as I think most people would, because it’s more about feeling, it’s more about upsetting the rhythm.” This admission humanizes a man often seen as unflappable, underscoring the universal truth that no title can armor one against the ache of loving deeply.

Central to William’s story is the delicate dance of parenting through crisis. How does one explain cancer to children on the cusp of adolescence and innocence? The Wales family, known for their close-knit dynamic, approached it with openness and honesty, a deliberate choice shaped by William’s own childhood traumas. Divorced parents at age eight, he and his brother Harry navigated a media storm that left lasting imprints. Determined not to repeat history, William emphasized creating “a happy, healthy, stable home” as his paramount priority. “If you don’t start the children off now… you’re setting them up for a bit of a hard time,” he reflected, a philosophy that guided their conversations with George, Charlotte, and Louis.

The prince didn’t recount the exact moment of disclosure but painted a vivid picture of their strategy: fostering security through dialogue. “We’re a very open family, so we talk about things that bother us, and things that trouble us,” he explained. Yet, he acknowledged the unpredictability of young minds. “You never quite know the knock-on effects that it can have… It’s just important to be there for each other and to reassure the children that everything is okay.” Everyone copes differently, William noted—children especially, who are “constantly learning and adapting.” George, the heir to the throne, might intellectualize his worries; Charlotte, ever the empathetic middle child, could channel them into quiet support; Louis, the spirited youngest, perhaps through play. Whatever their mechanisms, William praised their resilience: “My children have managed brilliantly as well.” This collective fortitude, he believes, stems from the “warmth, that feeling of safety, security, love” he strives to instill—lessons drawn from his parents’ mistakes, vowing, “I’ll do everything I can to make sure we don’t regress in that situation.”

The family’s trial also amplified William’s role as a bridge between duty and domesticity. While Catherine recuperated, he juggled solo outings—like attending the Euros final with George—and maintained a punishing schedule of engagements on homelessness and environmental causes. Yet, he admitted the strain of media intrusion, drawing a firm line against overreach. “If you let that creep in, the damage it can do to your family life is something that I vowed would never happen to my family,” he declared, his protective instincts flaring. This resolve echoes his broader mission: to safeguard his loved ones while evolving the monarchy into a more relatable institution.

Beyond the immediate shadows of illness, William’s reflections touch on brighter horizons. He spoke glowingly of everyday joys that anchored them—family dinners sans devices, where chatter flows freely; school runs timed to the rhythm of bells; and extracurricular whirlwinds of trampolining, netball, ballet, football, hockey, and music lessons. Even poignant losses, like the death of their beloved dog Lupo during the COVID lockdown, wove into their tapestry of growth, teaching the children about grief in gentle measures. These rituals, William insists, are the true legacy he wants to leave: not pomp, but presence.

Looking ahead, the prince’s candor extends to his vision as king. He envisions “change for good,” embracing evolution without radical upheaval. “I think it’s safe to say that change is on my agenda… I don’t fear it. That’s the bit that excites me.” For George, the next in line, William dreams of a world “in which my son is proud of what we do,” one that impacts lives positively while shedding outdated practices. “I hope we don’t go back to some of the practices in the past,” he said, alluding to the rigidities that shadowed his youth. History, he cautioned, can be “a real weight and an anchor,” urging instead a focus on the “here and now” and questioning traditions for modern relevance.

William’s interview is more than a royal revelation; it’s a testament to the alchemy of adversity. Through Catherine’s unyielding spirit, the children’s adaptability, and his own navigated vulnerabilities, the family emerged not unbroken, but reforged—stronger in their bonds, wiser in their priorities. As he put it, “Life is sent to test us… and being able to overcome that is what makes us who we are.” In sharing this, William doesn’t just console his family; he extends a hand to countless others grappling in silence, reminding us that even in the monarchy’s gilded halls, healing comes from the heart’s quiet revolutions.

Catherine’s remission is a beacon, but William’s words linger as the true light: a call to cherish health, nurture openness, and fight fiercely for those we love. In the Scottish mists where he spoke, the prince found not just respite, but renewal—a man, a father, a future king, forever changed by the woman who stands beside him.