Why Prince Andrew Is Reportedly Upset Over Beatrice and Eugenie's Rising Royalty Status

Disgraced ex-prince Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor is reportedly upset over his daughters Princess Beatrice and Princess Eugenie retaining their royal titles, forcing him into the awkward spot of bowing to them at family gatherings, according to royal author Andrew Lownie.

This revelation comes barely a week after fresh reports of his relocation on the Sandringham Estate surfaced on 25 March 2026. Lownie, writing in his Substack newsletter The Lownie Report, claims the protocol shift wounds Andrew's obsession with hierarchy.

Andrew's fall from grace accelerated last October when King Charles stripped him of his prince title, Duke of York peerage, and other honours amid renewed scrutiny from the Jeffrey Epstein court files.

Though he has consistently denied any misconduct, his name in those documents—linked to allegations he has fought in court—prompted Buckingham Palace to act decisively, evicting him from Royal Lodge near Windsor too. The palace confirmed he is now plain Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor, a demotion that hit headlines worldwide.

Andrew's Title Loss Sparks Family Bowing Dilemma

What really sticks in the craw, insiders whisper, is the pecking order inside the family bubble. Beatrice, 37, and Eugenie, 36, keep their princess styles intact—no word from the palace suggesting otherwise.

Royal protocol demands bows or curtsies to titled royals, so picture Andrew dipping low to his own flesh and blood next Christmas at Sandringham. 'Andrew stands on ceremony; titles, the lot—it's all vital to him, that rigid bowing and curtseying business,' Lownie writes bluntly. 'This'll rile him proper: bowing to his daughters.'

Royal biographer Robert Hardman backs it up on the Daily Mail's Palace Confidential podcast, conceding Andrew 'will have to bow to everybody—assuming he's in the room with the family'.

He doesn't mince words on Andrew's likely reaction: 'No, I don't' think he'll take it well. It's a rare modern twist, experts note, unprecedented since titled royals started shedding excess baggage post-scandals.'

Sky News called it a 'protocol dilemma,' with no easy fix while the daughters hold firm.

Andrew's always doted on Beatrice and Eugenie, parading them at events even as his own star dimmed. They stuck by him through the 2019 Newsnight car crash interview and beyond, but this title cling feels like salt in the wound for a man who thrived on deference.

Without HRH or duke status, staff and strangers no longer genuflect; he's just another estate dweller now. Yet whispers persist he clings to the illusion—more on that shortly.​

Royal Author Pins Andrew's Fury on Protocol Snub

Lownie's take isn't pulled from thin air; he's penned books dissecting Andrew's entitled world, like his fall in the House of York saga. On Substack, he paints a vivid picture: Andrew, once sweating bullets in that Epstein photo, now diminished yet hypersensitive to slights. 'The pecking order matters,' he stresses, suggesting this daughter dynamic could fester.​

Hardman tempers it slightly—Andrew might dodge family dos altogether, nursing grudges from afar. But with Eugenie and Beatrice active in royal-adjacent circles, collisions loom inevitable. Palace sources stay schtum, as ever, but the optics sting: daughters elevated by default, dad sidelined. No official rebuttal from Andrew's camp, who maintain he did no wrong in the Epstein mess—a civil settlement with accuser Virginia Giuffre in 2022 notwithstanding.​

Clinging to HRH Ghosts at Sandringham New Dig

Adding irony, snaps from 20 March caught movers hauling boxes labelled 'HRH sitting room' and 'HRH office' into Marsh Farm, Andrew's impending Sandringham pad. He's bunkered temporarily at nearby Wood Farm—Prince Philip's old haunt—while renovations wrap: Sky broadband, electrics, CCTV beefed up. Lories from royal-warrant art shippers Gander & White rolled in artworks too, hinting permanence.

Those HRH stickers? A cheeky holdover from Royal Lodge days, or deliberate defiance? Fans gawped online, but no palace slapdown followed. Marsh Farm, a modest five-bedder seven miles from the big house, marks a sharp drop from Lodge grandeur—goodbye gables, hello farmhouse cosiness. Yet the labels scream reluctance to let go, mirroring Lownie's ceremony fixation claim.​

Buckingham Palace offered no fresh comment yesterday on the title kerfuffle or move, sticking to last year's stripped-honours line. Andrew's team, tight-lipped as protocol demands from non-royals, reiterate his innocence.

Still, with Epstein echoes refusing to fade—files unsealed, emails resurfaced—the family's managed decline rolls on. Beatrice and Eugenie, meanwhile, glide unscathed, their titles a quiet lifeline in the wreckage.