Silence

Elizabeth sat upright in her chair, holding a hand of each of her children. A silence had settled over the room. It was a silence she knew well—the silence of a group of people waiting for her husband to speak.

She had seen the doubt behind the polite smiles as she'd walked behind Bertie to the broadcast booth, a few minutes ago. Most of these people had worked with the king before, liked him, respected him. And had very little faith that he could get through this speech.

You don't know, she'd been thinking, as she graciously greeted the assorted dignitaries and technicians. You have no idea. All those lessons, all those hours and hours of practice, until he was hoarse. You don't know how hard he's worked, how determined he is. He can do this.

Now she sat holding her breath, wondering whether she would even be able to hear Bertie's voice over her pounding heart, if he started. When he started. She felt the unease in the silence around her. Stop it, her mind ordered. Don't you dare doubt him, any of you. He's ready. It will be different this time.

It will be.

It has to.