XVI. Confidante

I am attending to Gertrude in her apartments. She looks weary – the stress of reorganizing a kingdom is taking its toll on her, and she has many other concerns than King Claudius' coronation and their marriage.

"Ophelia, I have a request for you."

"Anything, my lady."

She beckons, and I sit beside her. "I have a great need to pretend I am another today," she says, taking my hand. "Let us imagine that we are but ordinary women enjoying each other's company without all the troubles of royalty weighing on my mind."

It would be very difficult to keep up with such a fantasy when surrounded by a queen's finery, but I play along. We discuss endless trivialities, ignoring any ties to the court. Style and jewels may be mentioned, as long as certain ladies' names are not given. These are the simple, unnamed rules of this game we have created.

After a while, we both grow quiet.

"I cannot pretend such a fiction is real," Gertrude says.

"It is pleasant, though," I offer.

"Yes," she sighs. "A pleasant fiction." She passes a hand across her face. "Regardless, I cannot ignore my troubles."

I purse my lips. "What bothers you, Gertrude?"

"What constantly bothers a mother?" Her tone is sharp. "My son. When you have children of your own, perhaps you will come to understand how aggravating their opinions can be. My actions still do displease him and I cannot fathom why—" She cuts herself off. "No… no. I lie to myself to say such a thing. I can fathom why."

I sit and remain quiet, inviting her to tell me. I am an ear she needs right now.

"Ophelia," she says, "I must ask that what passes between you and me here must not come to the attention of anyone else. Are my decisions incestuous? I cannot speak of this to Claudius: think of what that would do!" Her cheeks redden. "I have spoken to priests, but even they would not dare to advise me to walk away from the future king, not even before God. But the whispers of the court… the whispers! They all wonder and gossip and I must pretend to ignore them, pretend that I have done nothing—" She stops herself once again. "I have done nothing wrong. Is that not true, Ophelia?"

I swallow – my throat seems to be stuck. I do not want to anger her, but I want to be honest. Why do I find myself in these positions so frequently? Have I unwittingly become Ophelia the Confidant? I shake the idea from my mind as it proves distracting. I must answer Gertrude's question.

"You love him, my lady. I do not think you should be ashamed for that."

She smiles sadly at me.

"The court will gossip, as it always has," I continue. "Should you doubt yourself because of them?"

"It is not them," she says. "It is my son. I never meant to hurt him. He did so love his father."

"Then why do you not wait?"

"I cannot wait."

"Why?"

"It is… better this way." She breathes in sharply. "Ophelia, can you not convince my son that this is how it will be?"

"His opinion will forever remain his, not mine," I say. "I cannot mend the breach between you and your son—"

"I do think so, in blind faith," she says. "It is only when he speaks of you when his gloom is lifted. You can change his mind—"

"I cannot!" I insist. "Why do you think I can? I am a simple noblewoman. I have my own ideas and opinions, but I am not some great negotiator who can change the minds of men. This issue cannot be fixed by me. It will only be restored when the two of you decide to yourselves."

"He refuses to speak to me," she says plainly.

"There is nothing I can do about that. He makes his own decisions."

"I know he will listen to you!"

"Listen, yes, but I cannot give him orders!"

"Ophelia—"

I shake my head. "Please do not force me to choose between you, my lady."

Gertrude sighs. "I suppose I must not," she muses quietly. Her fingers twist around each other. "This is not how I wished my Hamlet's homecoming to be."

I did not wish it either, my lady. I do not voice the thoughts aloud.

"He barely speaks to me now," she says coldly, staring at her hands.

"Reach out to him, my lady," I say. "Go to him instead of waiting for him to come to you. If anything, it shows that you still love him and perhaps he will learn to forgive you for what he perceives to be a trespass." I look at her sadly. "If you wish for my opinion, my lady, I would have waited for your husband's state funeral to pass before you had your second marriage announced."

Gertrude bows her head in silence.