It was at school three weeks later that Prince Harold experienced an odd, nagging feeling in his mind, and it lasted from noon throughout the day. Upon coming home, he noticed a quiet ambiance throughout the kingdom; with candelabrum flickering softly in each room.
Coming into the den, he saw his mother facing away from him, looking out one of the windows. "Mother?" he asked softly. "What's happened?"
Her answer only confirmed that which he had suspected. "Your father...died, Harold," she replied, barely able to speak.
"How? When? Where?"
"Earlier today, at the wharf. He and his friends were goofing off...Playing, really. They got a little drunk, a little violent, and began pushing each other around...Except..." She roughly wiped at her eyes, refusing still to look at her son. "He fell off the pier and into the water, and hit his head."
Prince Harold leaned heavily against the wall. He didn't need further explanation. He knew his father hadn't known how to swim, and his friends hadn't, either. There had been no chance.
"Were they fishing?"
"Yes."
Prince Harold shuddered – so many times he had gone fishing with his old man. He could have seen him die...
"But let's not dwell on it." She turned from the window, peering at him through her tears. "You realize what this means, Harold. You're the man of the house now; and the king of Far Far Away." Abruptly she crossed the room. "Come, let's make the arrangements for your coronation."
"What about you?"
"I'm old, Harold, and I'm tired and alone. You and your Lillian are next in line for the throne..." Her voice began to fade as, without looking back, she left the room with hurried steps. Feeling overwhelmed and rushed, Prince Harold scrambled to catch up.
_
"People of our town, and our community; tonight, we bid farewell to a great man, and a noble king. Although he is far from our souls, our minds will see him and our hearts hold him for eternity." The queen turned her stone face to her son, taking from a satin pillow the crown her husband once wore. "Though there is an unmistakable emptiness now in his place; so too is there our son, who I now crown the new king of Far Far Away. May his reign be as fulfilling as my love is strong. Let the new era commence!"
She placed the crown on her son's bowed head, and as King Harold stood, he received a standing ovation that shattered into the night.
"Now," she continued, surprising King Harold, who had thought the speech was over, "Let us join our new king with his beloved, in betrothal."
More applause as King Harold and his mother peered out into the crowd, waiting to glimpse Princess Lillian as she walked toward the minister who had suddenly materialized beside the new king...
But neither could spot the princess.
"Lillian?" the queen called. "Lillian Pendragon, step forth!"
Into the silent night, a voice suddenly called out timidly. "She couldn't attend the ceremony, my Lady."
"Who said that?" The queen was squinting out at the crowd.
A petite and pretty woman raised her hand in response, "It was me."
"And you are?"
"I...I'm employed as a maid to the Pendragon kingdom, your Highness. I know she couldn't be here because I tended to the princess. She was very ill."
"Ill!" The queen put a hand over her heart. "With what? Smallpox? The plague?"
"Morning sickness, my Lady."
Gasps swept throughout the crowd and the queen turned her narrowed eyes to her son, who offered a lopsided smile of shy embarrassment. "Heh...Sorry," he mumbled.
"You should be! Well, then, on account of morning sickness, the betrothal is hereby postponed until further notice," the queen announced, and with disappointed looks on their faces, the guests began trickling out of the courtyard. The queen gave her son one last stern glance of disapproval before gliding into the kingdom.