Ontogeny

Chapter 1b

The morose atmosphere of anger and fear still permeated the whole palace. The chatter and gossip that had filled the marble corridors during every one of the Brigadier's previous visits was absent and the silence with which servants and courtiers went about their duties hung over everything like a shroud. It was as if the Princess had already died. The King had no doubt tried to keep his daughter's condition secret for as long as possible, not just from the general population but from most of the palace staff as well, but someone must have spoken. Maybe just a whispered comment between two of the girl's personal attendants that had been accidentally overheard. Even if that had not happened, though, the truth would have gotten out sooner or later as her public appearances ceased. As her condition progressed, even a glimpse of her from a distance would have revealed the truth. The King would eventually have had to make a public statement to put a stop to gossip and speculation.

Snatches of half heard conversation did occasionally come to the two men as they made their way back to the main building, but it was never anything cheerful. People offered words of condolence to each other in sniffly voices, vain attempts to ease each other's grief. It was in their eyes as the King and the Brigadier walked past, and only the universal protocol of never speaking to royalty unless spoken to first kept them from saying the same things to him.

The Brigadier sensed the King growing more tense and angry as they made their way along the gold and white corridor, past the house plants on their pedestals and the beautifully painted landscapes that hung on the walls. The need to maintain appearances prevented the sovereign from saying what he was thinking, the thoughts that made his hands clench to fists by his sides and set his face in an expressionless mask, but when they passed a chambermaid who was actually in tears the Brigadier decided to say what the King could not. "The princess is not dead," he told her sternly. "She has an illness from which she will recover. Your grief is premature, and is an insult to those searching for a cure for her condition."

"Yes, yes, of course," the woman said, her eyes darting fearfully to the King. "She has the prayers of everyone in the palace."

"Make sure you tell everyone you meet," the Brigadier continued. "The Princess will make a full recovery. I will personally see to it. Now go about your business." The woman bobbed her head to the two men and scurried off down the corridor.

"Thank you," said the King. "Sometimes my duties feel like an iron collar about my neck. People think a King can do things they cannot, but more often it is the other way around."

The Brigadier nodded back. "It is only that they love you so much," he said. "You and the whole royal family. The whole kingdom recognises your devotion to them and knows there is no other land in the world so fortunate in their leadership. How fares the Queen, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

"She seems to age a year for every day that passes. She spends every moment the healers allow by her side, and then longer besides. She has to be torn from her side. She would be there now if I hadn't ordered her go take some rest."

As if being mentioned had summoned her, the Queen suddenly appeared from around a corner, dressed in a nightgown and pursued by a handmaid wringing her hands at her failure to keep her in her bed. The Brigadier's eyes widened with alarm at the lines that had appeared around her eyes and the grey hairs on her head as she hurried towards them. She grasped the Brigadier's arms tightly as she stared pleadingly up into his eyes. "Is it true?" she said. "You can save our daughter?"

"I'm sorry, your Majesty!" said the handmaid in terror. "She heard people talking in the corridor."

"It's alright, Brigitte," said the King. "You can go."

The Handmaid glanced between the Queen and the Brigadier and her face shone with relief and gratitude. Then she turned and hurried back towards the Queen's private chambers.