She did it in the CUT article too, when she invited the writer to make guess as to why herself and Harry were not allowed the half in/half out option they requested:
“Meghan asserts that what they were asking for wasn’t “reinventing the wheel” and lists a handful of princes and princesses and dukes who have the very arrangement they wanted. “That, for whatever reason, is not something that we were allowed to do, even though several other members of the family do that exact thing.”
Why do you think that is? I ask.
“Why do you think that is?” she says right back with a side-eye that suggests I should understand without having to be told.
All right, Meghan, I’ll bite. It could be that the very reasons she was considered a breath of fresh air at first and then a supernova (biracial, divorcée, self-made millionaire, clotheshorse) only highlighted the ways in which the monarchy was becoming irrelevant to a younger generation — and worse, the ways that it was deeply flawed (and racist). To that, it could be just because she’s Black. Or perhaps it’s owed to the fact that Meghan, who jokes that “even my blood type is A-positive,” wouldn’t relinquish control over her own image and that image had the potential to be too big of a brand. Maybe, as Harry battled on her behalf with the tabloids one stern statement after another, it was all becoming too eerily reminiscent of Princess Diana. Or maybe it’s because by the time she met and married Harry, she was already a fully formed American woman: self-made, self-refined. She had desires and goals and a fan base. And while she was a fine actress, the job she is best at is envisioning a life for herself and getting it. That specific type of very American ambition just isn’t really compatible with being a princess. Though it is compatible with her current life, which seems to be the best of all worlds: a palace in a better climate, still culturally considered royalty while having freedom from the royal family, a level of celebrity that exceeds what she could have gotten through Suits or the Tig, a neighbor with mini-pigs.
Well, I can’t put words in your mouth, I say instead.
And then a pause as she looks down and inspects her hands; The Bachelor producer in her head deliberates how much should be said. “I don’t know,” she says, casting a knowing gaze out into the middle distance.”
She thinks shes clever if she gets others to do the dirty work for her. Luckily this writer was too smart to fall for that.