Princess Pirouette, at the time of His Majesty’s death, was standing at his beside. He looks so peaceful, she thought to herself. As if from nowhere, a memory popped into her mind of early childhood. There had been a boy, a brother perhaps, who was older than her. They would play knights and dragons. He would be the dragon and she, using a stick as a sword would slay him. It was a rollicking good time. Then one day, he was gone. Nobody thought it important to explain to her what had become of him. It was almost as if he’d never lived at all.
The same could not be said of the King. His face in profile adorned the currency. Statues of him were already erected in every corner of the Kingdom. Dozens of times, his portrait had been painted. By his subjects, he would be remembered as the longest reigning sovereign in the long history of their country. How long will my reign be? Thought Pirouette.