Monarchy (13 page)

“Come on, we’ve always had this platonic relationship don’t go ruining it with titles now, please.” Gwen walked towards the stairs. “I’m going to join my family now.
 
Could you please arrange some coffee for us? Clear Elsie and the King’s schedules until further notice as well as mine.”

“Sure.
 
The chef has inquired about what we should do about the food?”

“Have the staff eat some and keep some on hand for us if somebody gets hungry through the night. Arrange for the rest to be delivered at the homeless shelter down in the Eastern Slums.
 
As for the four bouquets please send one each to the Countess of Struce and the Duchess of Nat thanking them for their support and give one to Grace. She’s been an angel. Send the last one up to my mother’s room.”

“Will do.” he nodded. “Gwen?” he called up to her.

“Yes?”

“You must be the bravest queen I’ve ever heard of.”

“Just on the outside, John” she said wearily.

It was quiet inside the room apart from the Queen’s rhythmic breathing. The King sat in a chair by the door looking out at the sun rising over the garden. Elsie was sleeping on another chair resting her head on the bed while the doctor was taking the Queen’s vital signs.

“Any change?” Gwen asked from where she sat on the floor against the wall.

The doctor looked up, tired. He had been doing two hourly examinations throughout the night.
 
He just shook his head. “You must get some rest, Your Majesty” he said to her.

“Will I be able to? I mean she won’t…”

“Not yet. I will call for you.”

Gwen got up stiffly and walked to her room. It has been 14 hours already.
 
She ordered Grace to switch of all phones after they started ringing since early that morning with friends calling for news. The garden looked bare, stripped of its pride for the ball. She fell back on her bed, exhausted and started to fall asleep.
 
Soft singing drifted up from the street. She got up part curious, part frustrated and peeked to the palace gates.
 

A group of about 5 young girls were singing a hymn surrounded by a small crowd that looked up to the palace respectfully in the walkway. Hoping that they weren’t the anti-monarchists again she stepped onto her balcony where the scene of hundreds of roses tied to the palace gate greeted her.
 
Some people were kneeling on the curb, lighting candles and praying. A small boy held up a placard saying:
 
‘Dear Mrs. Queen.
 
Get well soon.’
 
Gwen fought for her breath.

“They don’t hate us anymore” Elsie cried from the Queen’s balcony just above.

“They never hated us, Elsie. They hated what we did and in the end we are just human like the rest of them” she said to herself.

“Are you going to speak to them?” Elsie asked.

“Not yet. I’m sure they’ll understand that we need our privacy.”

There was a knock at her door and Sir Windsbury entered.
 
He wasn’t dressed in his usual uniform but in comfortable khaki pants and a white golf t. “Morning” he whispered and placed a mug of coffee on her bedside table. “Any news?” he said joining her on the balcony.

Gwen shook her head.

“You should sleep” he said and led her to the bed, tucking her in.

“I’m too scared” her voice broke for the first time.

“I’ll come and call you myself.” he said and kissed her on the forehead.

It was nearing noon when the doctor came for what was to be his last examination. He tried to take the Queen’s blood pressure twice and listened longer than usual to her heartbeat.

“I think it’s time to call for the bishop” he said to the King.

The King went to pajama lounge where Gwen, Elsie and Sir Windsbury sat waiting.

“It’s time…” his voice trailed off and he swallowed hard before continuing. “Would you please call for the bishop to come and perform the last rights?” he asked Sir Windsbury.

“Yes, sir” he answered and kept his head bowed as he left.

“Is this really it?” Elsie sobbed.

“Yes, Elsie” the King said pulling her closer to him.

Gwen walked to her mother’s bed alone and sat down upon it taking her hand.
 
It felt cold and unfamiliar as though the Queen’s soul had already gone.

“Even the gorgeous royal chariots wear out; and indeed the body too wears out. But the teaching of goodness does not age and so Goodness makes that known to the good ones” Gwen quoted a Buddhist verse softly to her mother.
 
“Embrace the light, mother. You’ve had a wonderful life.” She kissed her mother’s hand, who drew another deep raspy breath, her glassy eyes still on the garden.

The King and Elsie entered still holding each other followed by the bishop and Sir Windsbury who took his place next to Gwen and placed his hand supportively on her shoulder.

The bishop looked at Gwen for the sign that he may start. She nodded, tears streaming from her eyes.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul…”

The Queens lips formed what seemed to be a smile and a single tear rolled from her eye.

“He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me…”

The Queen drew a softer breath.

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord…forever.” The bishop concluded and the Queen’s breath grew silent.

Chapter 20

One month later…

Dew drops glistened on the dozens of ivory roses that adorned the Vendela bush in the middle of the Queen Marie Memorial Garden. It was to be a clear and sunny day and outside in the park spectators were arriving in anticipation of the coronation of Her Royal Majesty, Queen Guinevere.

The rubber soles of her sneakers squeaked on the marble and her loose hair fluttered behind her as she ran up to her room at full speed. She barged into her room that was a chaotic mess of clothes and accessories strewn about and started to throw things off her bed searching for her ringing cell phone.
    

 
“Hi Francesca? I’ve got!” Elsie finally answered when she found it hidden in the pocket of one of her jeans. “Yes, I am going to do it…No, not the whole outfit, just the hat…It’s going to be awesome…What are you going to wear?” she chatted happily on the phone.
 

Bouquets of roses were being brought into the throne room below that was transformed into a chapel for the archbishop to perform the ceremony.
 
A single throne had replaced the pair that once stood on the platform, flanked now by the newly created busts of the former King and Queen.

“I will need you to move my appointment with the Baron of Sign, to next week Sunday” the Queen Father said watching the arrangement unfold.

“Yes, Sir.”

“And could you please arrange for somebody to come and fix my nose.” He gestured to the bust to the throne’s left.

“Uhm, with the sculptor, Sir?”

“No, with the plastic surgeon, Gilbert” he answered snotty.

Gilbert was the Queen Father’s new chamber gent.
 
He was eighteen and a little jumpy (to Guinevere’s delight) but dashingly attractive which suited Elsie who couldn’t wait for diplomat’s with toddlers to come and visit.
 
Sir Windsbury resigned after Queen Marie’s death, but he was still a regular visitor at the palace, being the lucky man that had the honor of courting the Queen herself.

“And tonight we’re going to Cobain…Yes, the Queen has already given me permission, as long as we take Grace with to chaperone…I know, sure it’s going to be awesome to ask my sister for permission for everything from now on but she’s still treating me like a damn child….Okay, well I’ll see you after the coronation then…Kiss-kiss.” Elsie hung up after a very long conversation with Francesca, the Countess of
Struce’s
youngest daughter, and dropped her phone into the chaos once again.
 
Speaking about asking permission, she’s been thinking about discussing a world tour for herself with Gwen and her father for when she turns eighteen next year. She will concentrate on it actually being diplomatic in nature, or maybe she’ll go and study art in France.

“Gwen!” Elsie yelled.

She looked to the bathroom when there was no reply. The door was closed so curiously Elsie rolled off her bed and turned the knob. Bolted.

“Gwen, are you in there?”

Silence.

“Not again!” she screamed pulling at the door. She stomped out her room to Gwen’s door and pushed it open.

Gwen and Sir Windsbury were caught in a passionate embrace unaware of Elsie’s presence. Gwen’s hair was done but Elsie knew that her make-up would most probably need some touching up after that kiss. She still had her bathrobe on. Her wine colored dress was airing against the wardrobe. Sir Windsbury on the other hand was already in his new military uniform, as General of the Royal Guard.

“A-hem.” Elsie cleared her throat.

The two of them drew away from each other reluctantly.

“We need to get dressed. The proceedings are about to start” Elsie said.

“I’ll see you down stairs then, Your Majesty.”
 
The knight kissed Gwen’s hand and left with a smile and a courteous bow.
 
“Good morning, Elsie” he greeted.

“He looks hot in his uniform, doesn’t he?” Gwen smiled and took her dress from the wardrobe before disappearing into the bathroom to put it on. “Zip me up, please.” she called from inside.

Elsie looked at Gwen teary eyed.

“What’s wrong?” Gwen asked at Elsie’s reflection in the mirror.

“In two hours you’ll be Queen.”

“I’ve been Queen for more than a month already, Elsie…”

“But it will be official now. Everything’s going to change.”

“No it won’t.”

Elsie slowly zipped up the dress. “Yes it will. You’ll be in and out the country once again and you’ll move out of this room…”

“No, I’ve already told father that I would like to keep this room, thank you.”

“And when you get married?”

“A lot of water will have to run into the ocean before then and John knows it.”

“A dating Queen? That’s unheard of and a little intimidating if I may add” Elsie laughed.

 
“Times might be changing, but I’ll still be your sister” Gwen drew Elsie closer in a tight hug.

The wind blew in the smell of fresh roses and lavender through the balcony doors.
 
It was still a bit chilly but the suns bright rays was a clear indication that summer was almost here.

“Don’t cry” Elsie could feel wetness on her shoulder.

“Oh, my makeup’s already ruined” Gwen laughed.

Gwen was amused by Elsie’s choice of outfit when she emerged from the bathroom fully dressed in a pink skirt suit wearing Gwen’s infamous pink wide brimmed hat.

“It looks much better on you than it ever did on me” Gwen sniggered.

“Oh, I don’t know. You gave it certain flair.” Elsie pouted he lips at her sister.

“Shall we go?”

They walked down to the throne room hand in hand. Gilbert and Grace were waiting at the door for them.