Ragtag Daily Prompt: Tired

Poor old King rose from his bed every morning at seven sharp. His chief gentleman of the bedchamber would pull the curtain aside on his bedside and say, “Your Majesty, it is time!” Poor old King who could never sleep more than a few hours at a time would groan and thank his gentleman. Next came the royal dressers who would pull his nightshirt over his head and begin dressing him from head to toe. With half a dozen hands to help him, it still took His Majesty nearly an hour to dress fully from his wig to his shoes. The gentleman of the mirror would drag the full-length mirror to his bedside so that His Majesty could inspect the work. At this point in his life, he barely gave it a glance. “Thank you, all,” he would intone and with a wave of his hand, the royal dressers would leave.

As his chamberlain would lead him to the chapel to hear mass, the poor old King would look wistfully at his bed and then, leaning heavily on the chamberlain’s arm and with the assistance of a cane, he would proceed to hear mass. Sometimes, he would be so tired that he would sleep through the entire ceremony. After Princess Pirouette entered the court, nobody dared disturb the old King while he snored through the Agnus dei. One stern glance from the Princess would belay any would be beadle from nudging the King.