Tarnished Crowns & Teetering Foundations
The Sovereign Standard
Exclusive: Revenge Porn Scandal Rocks Royal Family
Private Moment, Public Outrage: Princess Caitlyn Kiramman Targeted in Revenge Porn Leak
Leaked Image Sparks Privacy Debate as Young Royal Becomes Victim of Vile Attack
Image Caption: A censored image leaked online shows a censored image of a bare chest with the Kiramman crest necklace dangled in between.
In a shocking and deeply troubling invasion of privacy, an explicit image of what has been proven to be Princess Caitlyn Kiramman, 18, has been leaked online, making the young royal the latest victim of revenge porn. The image, which originated from an undisclosed source, has sparked outrage and calls for stricter laws protecting individuals against such malicious acts.
The photograph, taken in an intimate setting, was shared across various platforms with the caption "Not so proper after all, Princess Bratlyn." Although the image has since been removed from most social media platforms, the damage has been done, with discussions and memes circulating far beyond the original post.
Princess Caitlyn Kiramman, the daughter of Princess Cassandra Kiramman, a very prominent figure in the Kiramman lineage, has long been under the scrutiny of the public eye. Known for her reserved demeanour and commitment to her studies, this incident marks an abrupt and invasive shift in the narrative surrounding her.
A Royal Outcry
The Kirraman family has yet to release an official statement, but sources close to the palace report that security measures around Princess Caitlyn have been heightened in the wake of the leak.
"This is a clear violation of her privacy and dignity," Melanie Merdada, Head of the Palace's PR team commented. "Caitlyn has always conducted herself with grace, and it is disgraceful that she has been targeted in such a vile manner."
A Violation of Trust
Sources allege that the leak may have originated from the same perpetrators as the previous scandal involving Caitlyn, some even suspecting these two incidents to coincide with each other on the same night, though no suspects have been named.
The leak raises important questions about privacy and consent in the digital age, particularly for public figures who are often seen as commodities rather than individuals with rights.
For updates on this developing story, follow The Sovereign Standard.
-----------------------------------------------
The heavy door of the estate clicked shut behind Caitlyn as she stepped inside, just managing to make it before Elora’s loose curfew. Her heart pounded from the adrenaline of sneaking in – yes, the adrenaline of sneaking in – not from a certain pink-haired girl, though her face betrayed nothing but calm - a skill honed after years of public scrutiny. She barely had time to take off her shoes before Elora appeared from the shadows of the kitchen hallway, her expression tense and fixed.
“Conference room. Now,” Elora said, her tone was hushed but firm.
Caitlyn blinked, confused. “What? Why? What’s going on-”
“No time. Just go.”
Elora’s urgency sent a chill down Caitlyn’s spine. She followed her down the long corridor, her mind racing with possibilities. Had she been caught sneaking off? Had something happened to her family? Was she being taken back to England now that the dust had settled? As they reached the heavy conference room doors, Elora motioned for Caitlyn to enter alone, before shutting them again, her heels clipping on the cold polished floor.
The room was dimly lit, except for the large TV screen on the far wall, where a familiar face stared back at her.
Mel Medarda.
“Caitlyn,” Mel greeted, her voice calm but underpinned with sharp authority. Her expression, however, betrayed something more - anger laced with disappointment.
“Mel?” Caitlyn asked, stepping further into the room and sitting down on the sofa centred in front of the TV. “What’s going on?” she crossed her legs in the hope of concealing her uneasiness as her leg bounced with apprehension.
Mel’s jaw tightened. She folded her hands in front of her, her professionalism holding her fury barely at bay. “Out of all the reckless things you could do, You let those people take indecent pictures of you? You were allowed to go to that party with no security on one condition: you stay sober enough to make conscious decisions.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling as she tried to calm her speech.
Caitlyn froze, her confusion quickly giving way to a creeping dread. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice unsteady. “What are you talking about?”
Mel sighed, her composure fraying just slightly. “This.” She shared her screen, and within moments, the image filled the massive TV.
Caitlyn’s heart stopped.
There it was – her - naked from the waist up but just cut off at her chin, her breast on full display, with a faint blur that someone had added almost as an afterthought. The image was stark, invasive, and utterly humiliating. She could see her Navy-streaked hair cascading down onto her collarbone – and then dead centre lay the most obvious piece of evidence that this was in fact her – The Kiramman Crest necklace.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Caitlyn’s voice cracked, her panic bursting through her usual restraint. Her body felt like it was on fire, heat and cold rushing through her veins simultaneously. She stood up furiously before stumbling backwards, her hand flying to her mouth as if to hold back a scream.
Mel watched her carefully, the anger on her face softening as she took in Caitlyn’s genuine shock. “You didn’t know?” Mel said, more to herself than Caitlyn.
“No!” Caitlyn shot back, her voice trembling. “No, I didn’t know! What makes you think I would want that?! I… I wouldn’t…” She paced in a tight circle, her hands clutching at her hair. “They must’ve spiked my drink. I had like..TWO the whole night! I was with Maddie-” She froze mid-sentence, her eyes widening as realization struck.
“Maddie,” she spat, the name tasting like venom on her tongue. “That snake," she sneered. "She kept holding onto my drink for me whilst we sat and talked… she-she planned this.” Caitlyn was seething. She had met Maddie when they first started High school years ago, and poor Maddie was infatuated with the idea of the royal family and Caitlyn in particular. But when Caitlyn constantly declined her advances, they drifted apart, till she had invited her to her brother’s house party last year – a “Reconciliation for being petty” as Maddie had put it, Jokingly.
Mel’s brows furrowed, her professional demeanour briefly giving way to a flash of concern. “Caitlyn, I’m so sorry this happened to you,” she said firmly. “And I’m sorry for my earlier conviction; The palace is in chaos. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
But Caitlyn could barely hear her. The room was spinning, and the image burned into her brain. Her ears started ringing, drowning out Mel’s words. Her mind raced through the implications: her naked chest, online, worldwide. Every sneering comment, every click, every share, every save - it was too much.
“This is bad,” Caitlyn muttered to herself, her voice barely audible. “This is really, really bad.”
She stumbled toward the chair at the head of the table and collapsed into it, her hands trembling as they clutched the edge of the table. Her stomach churned violently, nausea rising in waves. “Oh my God,” she whispered, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.
“Caitlyn,” Mel’s voice cut through the static in her head, steady and deliberate. “Listen to me. We’re going to handle this. Do you hear me? This is horrible, but it’s not the end. You’re not alone in this.”
Caitlyn’s breath came in short, shallow gasps, and she shook her head, unable to process anything beyond the overwhelming humiliation.
“Caitlyn,” Mel said again, her tone softer now. “Look at me.”
Caitlyn forced herself to meet Mel’s gaze on the screen, tears brimming threatening to fall.
“We’ll make this go away,” Mel said firmly. “I promise you. But I need you to stay with me, alright? Breathe. Slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
Caitlyn tried to follow Mel’s instructions, her breaths shaky and uneven.
“You didn’t cause this,” Mel continued, her voice steady and reassuring. “You are the victim here. Do you understand? This wasn’t your fault.”
Caitlyn nodded weakly, though the guilt and shame clawing at her chest told a different story.
“We’ll be launching an investigation, okay?” Mel said. “And we’ll make sure the people responsible are held accountable. But for now, you need to focus on yourself. You’re going to get through this.”
Caitlyn swallowed hard, her hands still trembling. She didn’t feel like she was going to get through it, but she held onto Mel’s words like a lifeline, the only thing keeping her from spiralling completely.
“I…” Caitlyn started, her voice shaking. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t have to,” Mel replied. “That’s my job. Right now, you just need to trust me. Can you do that?”
Caitlyn hesitated, then nodded, trying to steady her breathing.
Mel’s expression softened further; her anger was completely replaced by compassion. “Good,” she said gently. “Now go rest up – it’s late where you are. I’ll call you tomorrow with a plan.”
Caitlyn didn’t sleep that night. Her thoughts raced between everything that she remembered from that night, and if she was going to be able to face Vi tomorrow – because this was it. This is how Vi would find out who she actually was - through her tits on the internet.
-----------------------------------------------
The days blurred together, Caitlyn was instructed to stay home. She sat on the plush yet cold sofa in the estate’s Conference room across from the TV, which projected on the screen a long, polished table in the palace conference room, the same one where she’d first seen the image that now consumed her life. The air inside felt heavy and suffocating as her online PR team shuffled through stacks of paperwork and spoke in clipped, professional tones, muting and unmuting and dissecting every possible strategy to ease the fallout.
“We’ll release a statement categorically denying the authenticity of the photos,” one of the advisors said, her tone brisk. “We’ll reinforce that these were maliciously fabricated and emphasize Caitlyn’s impeccable reputation—”
“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn interrupted, her voice flat but her eyes sharp. “But they’re not fake – it’s clear from the previous photos. That’s me.”
The room fell silent. Mel sighed and adjusted her dress as she stood up to address Caitlyn properly. “Caitlyn,” she began carefully, “the public doesn’t need to know the nuances of the truth. Denial is our strongest option right now. If we admit-”
“This is bullshit-“
“You need to be calm,” one advisor retorted, tapping on his tablet, and running some numbers. “We’ll release a statement that frames you as a victim of malicious attackers. Sympathy is the angle we’re going for.”
“Do not deviate from the timeline,” another chimed in. “You were chatting with Maddie. You had a drink. You don’t remember much after that. Repeat that exactly. No embellishments.”
When they moved on to drafting legal statements, the PR team became even more clinical. Every word she said was scrutinized, turned over, and rephrased to ensure maximum damage control.
“What do you remember after Maddie handed you the drink?” a lawyer asked, his pen poised over a legal pad.
Caitlyn stared at the table, her voice barely a whisper. “Nothing. I told you, it’s blank. I felt… dizzy, and then I was in a car going home.”
The lawyer nodded, jotting something down. “Good. Stick to that. We can’t have you speculating. Anything more could backfire.”
Hours bled into one another. Caitlyn gave statement after statement to the legal team, recounting what little she remembered of that night. Each time, her words felt like a slow drag through barbed wire.
“I don’t know how much I drank,” she admitted quietly during one of the sessions, her hands folded tightly in her lap. “Maddie kept refilling my glass… I didn’t think twice about it. I thought she was just-” She hesitated, the word catching in her throat. “I thought she was just being friendly.”
The team nodded, their pens scratching across their notebooks.
“Did you notice anyone else nearby when these photos might have been taken?” someone asked.
“No,” Caitlyn replied, her voice trembling. “I-I don’t even remember being in that state. I didn’t… I didn’t know until I saw the pictures.”
After each meeting, Caitlyn would retreat to her room, the four walls feeling simultaneously too vast and too small. The curtains were always drawn, the soft glow of her bedside lamp the only light. Her phone - the one she was allowed to use-stayed on her nightstand, ignored.
But her secret phone, the one she’d bought for Vi, buzzed constantly in the first few days.
Vi:
Hey, you okay? You weren’t at school today.
Vi:
You’re not sick, are you?
Vi:
Still nothing? Has something happened
Vi:
Day two of your vanishing act. What gives?
Vi:
If I pissed you off or something, you can tell me – I promise I can take it
Vi:
Princess, seriously you good??
Caitlyn sat on the edge of her bed, the phone in her lap. The sight of Vi calling her "Princess" made her chest tighten. It was their thing, their dynamic, and now she was breaking it by staying silent. Her thumb hovered over the screen, and for a moment, she thought she might type something – anything – to reassure Vi.
Instead, she placed the phone back under her pillow, the guilt suffocating her. What could she even say? How could she explain that the world was now tearing her apart piece by piece?
Vi:
Seriously, where are you?
Vi:
you're not even reading these anymore, are you?
Vi:
I guess you’re really not coming back, huh?
Vi:
whatever has happened – I hope you’re okay.
Vi:
But I get it. You’ve got your own life, and I guess I just misinterpreted where I fit into that.
The messages stopped by the fourth day. Caitlyn read them all, over and over, until the words blurred. She couldn’t bring herself to respond. How could she drag Vi into this chaos? What if Vi by association was also experiencing backlash?
This thought rocked Caitlyn to her core – From the little background Vi had given Caitlyn about her past, she knew she was being selfish shutting Vi completely out with no explanation.
It had been three days since Vi’s last message. Caitlyn was still in and out of meetings, barely keeping up with schoolwork, she locked herself in her room every night, refusing to eat dinner with the staff as she had been doing since she moved here. The loneliness ate away at her till she pulled out the stashed phone from under her pillow. Caitlyn stared at her phone for what felt like hours, rereading Vi’s messages until her eyes blurred. She wanted to tell her everything, to let her know how much she missed her, how sorry she was for the silence. But the thought of dragging Vi into this mess, of letting her see the broken pieces of Caitlyn’s life, stopped her every time.
Instead, she typed out a single message, her hands shaking as she stared at the screen.
Caitlyn: I’m sorry.
Her finger hovered over the send button, but she couldn’t press it. She locked the phone again, her chest heaving with the weight of her indecision.
A new message pinged through in the early hours of that morning:
Vi: I miss you, Cait.
For the first time since the scandal broke, Caitlyn sobbed.