Elegy for Francis, Duke of Dukes | An Alternate History

The Horrible Truth

FINAL STANZA, VERSE IV

Despite rapid advances in the fields of health and medicine over the last three centuries, little could be done to save Francis's eyesight. In the last decade of his life he was almost completely blind. Similarly to his early years, he was followed at all times by a retinue of doctors and bodyguards. As his body decayed so too did his mind. In all matters he was increasingly reclusive. He shut out friends and advisors alike, never leaving his room for days at a time.

Whenever he'd come out he would be thin, parched, and decrepit. Sometimes crying and howling could be heard coming from within his chambers. Servants were under explicit orders to not enter no matter what sounds they heard him make, which took great restraint on their part.

I stayed with him in his last months. By the time arrived he was already unresponsive, the only sign he was alive being the occasional hacking fit. The hospital staff struggled to keep him alive as his lungs slowly filled with fluid over the course of several days. It was in the final moments of his existence that the miracle happened. As I was discussing his prospects with one of the doctors, he looked at me. "I see you," he croaked, "You've been here all along, haven't you?"

"I came as soon as I heard. You haven't got much longer left." He made his best attempt at a chuckle.

"I'm aware. I saw what lies beyond. It's beautiful and awful all at once. Do you have the book?"

"I do."

"And the boat?"

"I'm afraid she was sunk in the war."

"Nonsense. I know it's still out there somewhere, waiting to be reunited with the book. Keep the two together always. They hold the key—" The light in his eyes began to fade. "Quickly, I must tell you a secret, the horrible truth. I have been cursed with a great lineage. My father, he... He was a Habsburg. I am a Habsburg." And just like that, he died.