Simon Dorante-Day, a 56-year-old resident of Queensland, has spent decades asserting that he is the biological son of King Charles III and Camilla, Queen Consort. Born on April 5, 1966, in Gosport, Portsmouth, he was adopted as an infant by Karen and David Day. According to Dorante-Day, his adoptive grandparents—some of whom he claims worked directly for the royal household—told him explicitly that he was the child of Charles and Camilla. This was not, he insists, a family rumor or vague hint but a clear statement of parentage. Over the years, he has maintained that he is seeking only the truth of his origins. His appeals have included calls for a formal DNA test, sometimes framed as a “four-way paternity test” involving himself, King Charles, and Charles’s recognized children, which he sees as the most straightforward path to confirming or disproving his claim. These assertions have become a recurring topic in international media outlets, generating significant public curiosity.
Dorante-Day and his supporters point to various forms of supposed evidence to bolster what they argue is a suppressed truth. This includes perceived physical resemblances to Charles, Camilla, and other members of the royal family, which they claim set him apart from the Day family. They also cite family stories, alleged insider knowledge, and anecdotes about the royal household that, in their view, support his version of events. Additionally, Dorante-Day has shared photos meant to highlight similarities between himself and the royal family, hoping to demonstrate that the theory is grounded in more than speculation. Online communities and certain media platforms have amplified these claims, framing them as potentially credible leads rather than baseless conspiracy. For Dorante-Day’s supporters, the blend of personal history, visual comparison, and alleged familial testimony forms a compelling narrative worthy of serious investigation.
However, despite Dorante-Day’s determination, many observers—legal authorities, journalists, and historians—view his claims as implausible or unproven. One of the most significant issues is the discrepancy between documented historical timelines and the birth date he provides. According to widely accepted historical accounts, Charles and Camilla first met in the early 1970s—several years after 1966. If these timelines are accurate, they would make it biologically impossible for the couple to have been his parents. This chronological conflict is a central flaw that critics point to when dismissing the claim. Additionally, official records, such as adoption documents and birth certificates, have not provided any indication of royal involvement. Courts reviewing his claims have repeatedly concluded that the evidence presented lacks foundation, credibility, or relevance to established historical fact. These assessments contribute significantly to the broad skepticism surrounding the story.
Dorante-Day’s legal efforts have further shaped public perception of the matter. Over the years, he has filed multiple lawsuits seeking recognition, protection, or acknowledgment of his alleged royal lineage. Many of these filings included claims of harassment, human-rights violations, or constitutional issues. However, each attempt has been dismissed, often at early procedural stages, because the courts ruled that the claims lacked standing or material evidence. Judges have consistently determined that the case does not justify judicial intervention and that the evidence provided is insufficient to move forward with formal proceedings. These legal failures, while not definitive proof against Dorante-Day’s assertions, reinforce the view that the story rests on personal belief rather than verifiable fact. As a result, his efforts have remained largely symbolic rather than legally impactful.
Despite the lack of legal or documentary breakthroughs, Dorante-Day continues to advocate for a DNA test as the most decisive way to resolve the matter. Yet from the perspective of the royal family and official public records, his request does not appear to warrant consideration. There has been no public acknowledgment from King Charles III, Camilla, or any official representative responding to his allegations, nor any indication that a DNA test is being contemplated. To outside observers, this silence reflects the institution’s confidence in established historical records and its reluctance to dignify an unsubstantiated claim. Meanwhile, media coverage tends to treat the story as either an intriguing curiosity or a recurring human-interest item. While some outlets portray him sympathetically, few treat the allegation as a credible genealogical issue. For now, the story exists in a state of limbo—highly public but fundamentally unresolved.
Nevertheless, Dorante-Day’s narrative continues to attract attention for reasons that extend beyond its factual merits. It taps into the public fascination with royal secrecy, hidden histories, and the idea that individuals outside the palace walls may hold extraordinary untold stories. It also resonates emotionally because it is framed as a search for identity, belonging, and truth rather than a quest for wealth or status. According to Dorante-Day’s own statements, he is driven by personal closure and a need to understand his origins. Yet, from an evidence-based standpoint, the claims remain speculative: there is no verifiable documentation, no DNA test, no corroborated testimony, and substantial contradictions between his narrative and recorded history. Until new, credible evidence emerges, the story remains a matter of personal conviction rather than demonstrable fact. And in matters as consequential as royal parentage, conviction alone cannot substitute for proof.