Hail

Twenty-six

The king is dying. The king is dying. The king is dying. The king is dying. The words circle over and over in my mind on a vicious, taunting loop. When I enter the hall outside of my father's chambers, they are waiting for me. I am already short of breath from running, but it feels like whatever breath I have left was sucked from my lungs. The physician stands at the front with Tomas and Broderick slightly behind him, all three with their eyes trained on me as I round the corner of the hall. Their sadness is palpable. For the first time I can remember, I am not filled with joy at Broderick's appearance, knowing that they have sent for him because the news is bad enough they do not wish for me to be alone when they tell me. I can see the apology on their faces before he ever begins to speak, I can see the truth in their eyes before a single syllable is uttered. My mind whispers to me what they are going to tell me, but still I need to hear it myself. I need to hear Horace say the words that are written so clearly on his face before I can convince my heart to believe them. 

He makes many apologies and gives a thorough explanation, something about infection in the wound that is spreading and fever, but I can't listen. I cannot understand anything after he says the word dying. Nothing else matters. I cannot believe that this is happening; part of me refuses to believe it. I want to shout at them that they are wrong. I have just said my final words to my brother as I stood beside his cold body, and that is all the death I can handle. I cannot walk into my father's chambers and say my final goodbye to him as well. It is too much. My heart rebels at the thought.

I lower myself onto the bench where Broderick sits and I am grateful that we are alone. I do not know where Tomas and Horace have suddenly gone; it does not matter. Elisa is already in with our father and I refuse to take away this moment from her. She was here with the physician, she was the first one told that he was dying. I am sorry that I was not here for her when she was dealt that blow. I feel it will be a forever regret that I was not by her side when I know she needed me. She knows that I am here now, but I will give her the time to have her own farewell with our father. Broderick's hand reaches for mine. I turn to look at him. "How is this happening? How do I lose them both in one day?" My voice is full of the disbelief I feel. He does not speak. He knows there is no answer for why. I look into his bright eyes, now clouded with sadness. "I cannot do this. I cannot say goodbye to him too. It is more than I can endure." My voice breaks and I must work to keep the tears at bay.

He presses a soft kiss to my temple. "Yes, you can. You have more strength than you realize, you will survive all of this. I will be here for you. You are not facing all of this alone." He touches my chin pulling my gaze to his, helping me to see the promise in his words. "You will regret it all of your days if you do not."

I know he is right. While I feel the urge to run away, to hide from it all, I know that if I miss this one chance to say goodbye, I will never forgive myself. I will spend the rest of my days wishing for one more moment with my father. Running and hiding will not change the truth of what is happening. It will not cause all of this to become a dream from which I can wake.

The tears burn my eyes and I cannot stop them from falling. "I do not know what to say. I feel that there should be things that I know I want to say, but I cannot think of the words. We have been at odds so often in my life, but he is my father, my only living parent. I have never questioned his love for me. He has been the anchor of life, the constant that keeps me secure in knowing what is expected of me. What happens to me now when that is gone?"

Broderick's fingertips brush away the tears that are falling down my cheeks. "You hold onto me. I will not let you feel adrift."

He pulls me to him and I let myself fall against him. I bury my face in his chest, his arms holding me as he continues to press soft kisses to my hair. I take a deep breath trying to steady myself. I can feel the pain start to pull at me, the flood of tears that burn and wish to be set free. I push them away and listen to the steady beat of his heart against my ear and try to get lost in its rhythm, but the words still circle, making all other thought impossible. The king is dying. The king is dying. The king is dying. The king is dying.