Authors Note: I am so unbelievably sorry. I know I promised you faithful fans that I would post my third chapter about a month ago but my computer got a virus just before I finished this chapter so it erased ALL of it. It took a fortnight to get it up and running again and then a further two weeks to rewrite it. And you know how once you've written something and you have to write it again from memory, it takes twice as long because you want it just like the original one. Well that's what happened.
You have my deepest apologies.
Hope you like it.
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Identical Grief
King Francis died late July. He suffered from what seemed like influenza and cancerous disease for quite some time. Developing the illness two years before requesting that his only son Prince Henry marry. His fear of leaving before Henry was properly wed grew as soon as his son made regular trips to the outside world without his permission or appropriate security.
Henry did not know of his disease until it was too late. His father had managed to keep his secrets very well hidden. He didn't find out until Francis collapsed one chilly autumn morning. His mother, Marie, had known all along but was sworn to secrecy. She confessed a week subsequent to his collapse.
Overwhelmed by his rapidly increasing number of responsibilities, no more did Henry need to search for something to keep him occupied. It was handed over to him willingly.
A doctor visited the castle on a regular basis. He confirmed that The King's days were numbered. Upon learning this, Francis took the opportunity to educate his son of his duties.
"It is vital to maintain the significance of your status. The men of our family have carried the burden of royal prominence for six generations. You must not falter!" The King said whilst lying in bed. The room, that almost always had at least a dozen servants scuttling about the place, was relatively silent. Containing only Henry and the sick man.
"I know, Father." I replied.
He sighed. "I know you know. But it must be branded with hot coals into your head. It must be as simple to remember, as it is to breathe. You must not forget, Henry!" he said fiercely. His face grew red as he began a coughing fit.
I moved closer to the edge of the bed and felt the coals had turned cold. I removed them and walked over to the blazing flames to replace them. My father saw this and was not pleased.
"You do not have to do that! Call in a servant."
"I am happy to do it for you father." I replied.
"I said leave it!" he yelled, pushing himself up to see better, "It is not your place to do that for me. What have I told you not two minutes before? Remain in your high status! If I wished for you to become a commoner I would not have worked so hard to leave you with everything. Now SERVANT!"
The coughing returned, worse that earlier. The King slumped down onto his pillow, his face still crimson. I walked over with the coal coals and put them back under the covers near his feet.
"There, it is done. Why trouble the servants when it is a simple task that can be over and done with?" I said calmly while sitting back down on the edge of the bed.
A servant came into the room looking flushed. I presumed he had been running to get here. "You are no longer needed." I explained. I looked over at my father and saw a look of disappointment in his weary eyes.
Before the servant could leave I told him to wait outside just in case they required him again.
"I do not understand you Henry. You have changed in the last year. That is not entirely terrible, I see you have cared for your wife better than I had expected. You have matured very quickly but you must comprehend that when I die you will become the rightful King. You will do things that you may not want to." The King explained.
I dropped my head. Beset by what my father had just said. I had received the first bitter taste of what life might feel like when I took the throne. I glanced over at the old man and realised that for once in my life I did not want my father to walk into the world of the spirits.
Francis waved his hand, "Now go away, I need my rest. We will finish this discussion tomorrow."
I was glad to leave his father's side. I needed time to think. That night, per usual, I waited until the castle was still and my wife was asleep, until I crawled out of the bedroom window. I had done this many times so I no longer needed the aid of a rope or bed sheets.
I paid a shilling to Marcus the guard. We had made an agreement long ago that whenever I left at night, a shilling would allow me to pass through the gates without being detected.
I generally walk in the direction of the woods by the lake. This is the only time I get to myself. It gives me a time to think and to breathe.
I return to the castle before day breaks. Normally everybody is still asleep but when I returned this morning, the servants were in a commotion. Some were even crying.
I sprinted to my parent's bedchamber only to find a lump covered with a long golden-lined cloth on the bed. Gabriella was desperately trying to sooth my distraught mother.
A priest came to take the body away. Henry made arrangements for the funeral and planned when to announce his father's death to the country.
Also Henry needed to make preparations for his becoming King but that was last on his list. Eventually Marie had to do it for him.
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Danielle was also suffering from grief. One of her oldest friends, Maurice, passed suddenly while tending to the chickens.
His wife Louise was in hysterics. She could not bear to make the burial arrangements so Danielle and Paulette did it for her. They made sure that everything was ready and that Louise kept to her bed to recover.
They had not heard of the King's death. Paulette was too busy to go to the town gathering and Danielle avoided them anyway.
Coincidentally, both funerals were on the same day. Although neither of them knew that.
Ever since she was named a countess, Danielle busied herself to her managing the estate, caring for her friends and the animals, reading her novels and of course, doing more than her fair share of housework. She wasn't about to hand over all her work to the servants now that she was given a new title.
Danielle and Jacqueline, now known as sisters, were more like confidants. They told each other everything… well Jacqueline did anyway. Danielle didn't like to express what she was really feeling.
Jacqueline recently confessed her fondness of Captain Laurent. I wasn't surprised. They would make such a darling couple!
I, myself, rather not attract any attention what so ever from the male sex. Life has been more pleasant without Monsieur Le Peau breathing down my neck. He is still somewhat fearful of me now.
Also I have removed all objects that remind me of the prince. Even though every trace of him ever being near me has vanished, he somehow comes back to haunt me, especially when the moon reveals itself at night. I usually take this opportunity to wander the through the empty forest.
This, however, can to an end when Maurice passed on. With the increase in the workload, managing his funeral arrangements and caring after Louise, I could not muster up the energy to go for a midnight stroll.
It took Paulette, Jacqueline and I five whole days until Maurice could be put beneath the Earth's surface.
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The crowd below drew their breaths as they received the news of The King's death. A few women shed a tear or two but the majority of the people bowed their heads in sorrow.
It was always a distressing time for the people, who adored their King so dearly. Also the adjustment to the new leader normally took a few months. They would just have to cope… silently.
Nevertheless it wasn't close to the amount of adjusting it would take Henry to fulfil the king of France's duties that were passed down to him. It usually took several years before Henry could run his country without hitches.
"My father devoted his life to this country. I can only hope I can live up to his example. With that, could you please spare the time to grieve with us at his funeral at the Mémorial De Charlemagne, four days from now?
King Francis once said 'What ever the strife or famine, come to France and you'll be home."
I trust you will all do the absolute best you can to abide by what he had once said. He is gone but not forgotten!"
With this I turned and left. I saw my mother smiling at me through her tears. She will be better soon enough, they all will.
King Francis' funeral was a bleak one. It was safe to say that at least half of the town was surrounding his coffin. Paying their debt to him by just being there.
Not many people witnessed the death of a public figure. This was more of a social event than it was the commemoration of a king. Some of these people attended the service not because they want to show their respect to the past leader but because it was what seemed to be trendy to be witnessed there.
It was a very formal funeral. All four priests were there even if it was only the oldest of the four who organized what was to happen.
Many tears were shed, most of which were from my mother. She tried her best to keep them under control; it was only twenty minutes through that she became more noticeable. It was difficult to believe that she had any tears left for her to spill.
I was the complete opposite. I wasn't that be fond of crying, especially not in public. I remember when my father instructed me never to cry. I was about ten years of age at the time. I have kept my promise to him. The only time I disobeyed him (unintentionally) was a single year ago.
I couldn't think about that now! Glancing over at Gabriella, I saw her looking sheepish and out of place. She did not know enough about King Francis to detest him nor did she know him long enough to feel any sort of affection towards him. This was evident as she shifted uncomfortably, trying to eliminate any attention that might be in her direction. I reached out to hold her hand but she jerked it away, averting the eyes of the people nearby.
Simultaneously we moved away from each other. Her cheeks were that of a rose. I felt so ashamed! I even remembered wishing it were I, lying in the coffin at that particular moment. And what's more, I felt a certain hint of desolation. I had often hoped that some day we would have a content relationship. She and I have not yet reached that point in our marriage.
This was the moment in time that I desperately wanted out more than anything. At times I fantasised about what my life would be like if I was not apart of the royal family. Would I be as unhappy as I am right now?
At the end of the ceremony, I was one of the first to leave. Most people were heading in the direction of the town, market place or the castle. I, however, stumbled to what I thought was the route leading into deeper woods.
Repeatedly tripping over rocks, tree branches, boulders and such was the only indication that I had travelled too far into unknown territory after what seemed like an hour of walking.
Slumping onto a large stone, defeated against the mental notions creeping its way inside my head. Not only was I invaded with thoughts and physically exhausted but now lost.
Five minutes more brought me too my senses. If I stayed here any longer, guards will be ordered to find me. The castle would be in a frenzy. My disappearance would bring unnecessary strife not only to my family but also to my future nation's people.
Presuming I moved in an easterly direction, I needed to be behind the setting sun. Half an hour through my journey, I came across a small cemetery. It was a pitiful little thing really. Barely enough room to contain any more than 25 bodies yet 40 or more were squeezed in beside each other to eliminate any excess space. I assumed it was used to bury the dead bodies of servants.
I noticed a quarter of a dozen individuals finishing memorial service of one of their friends. They were clinging to each other for support especially the oldest female of the lot. Underneath her tear sodden face, I had the faintest glimmer of familiarity. However, a scrawny young male blocked her from view.
Not wanting to disturb them, I carefully sneaked behind the trees. Not long afterwards, I was burdened by my feeling of guilt. I had invaded them during a distressing time in their lives. The loss of someone dear should never be overrun by strangers. Although I could hardly describe myself as a stranger. More of an intruder.
Thinking about this I had not taken notice of a particular someone crossing my path. Bumping into her was the only indication that she was there at all. I was so lost in my thoughts that I did not even have the decency to apologise. Only her voice jolted me awake.
Pausing almost immediately, wondering if what I heard was correct. It took me several moments before I could summon up the nerve to turn around and prove myself right.
Her long chestnut hair dangled loosely around her waist. Her black-laced indigo dress was crumpled and smeared with dirt. She had taken short and meaningless steps away from where we had collided but was still within reach. Her shaking hand indicated that she was clearly troubled.
Before she could walk any further I called out her name. Her actual name not her mothers. I had practised numerous times, never imagining that I would have to use it.
Ever so slowly, she turned to face me. It was her! It was Danielle!
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