Horatio, Ophelia and I all knew there would be hell to pay as letters were sent to all four corners of Denmark, proclaiming the new king, Claudius. Even worse was the announcement that King Claudius would, as soon as her grieving period was over, and not a day longer, Queen Gertrude, who was really no longer a queen, would remarry, and marry the new queen. Some of her ladies, including myself and Ophelia, were slightly disgusted and angry at the queen for betraying her dead husband in that way, but there was nothing anyone could do.
One of the much older ladies, the one who had taught me how to be a lady in waiting, said "She is a queen. She wouldn't know how to be anything else." I wondered if that was true. Did that mean it was all okay? She made it sound as if being a queen was only a job, and not connected to being a wife at all. And could I really be judging the queen at all in her grief? Maybe she was lost. Maybe she was pretending that Claudius wasn't as bad as he was. She didn't know about him being a murderer, but she had known that Claudius had hurt me.
But she hadn't just lost her husband. After the announcement of the queen's remarriage, Hamlet had begun to distance himself from his mother, not that I could blame him. If he had seen the ghost of his father yet, I didn't know about it. I was almost afraid to ask Horatio about it, since that would be the real beginning of the play, and there would be no stopping it. At least, that was what it felt like.
I got lucky on my second day outside of my bed. I was walking with Horatio, Hamlet and Ophelia when Claudius, with a large crown and more jewels than he had worn in the past, came upon us. I stiffened, my hands shaking. Ophelia and I curtsied, and the men bowed. "Your majesty," I murmured.
"Ah, Lady Corrine. I heard that you bumped your head on a late night walk. Are you feeling better?" That was what he was going with? Were Hamlet and Horatio my protection? Or maybe the queen?
I took a deep breath. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I am feeling much better. I don't remember what happened. I remember being sick, and then nothing until I woke up. I must have been sleepwalking and fell."
I watched him warily, trying to keep my face as blank and innocent as I could.
The two of us watched each other for several very long moments. "Of course. That would make sense," he said. "Well feel better." I nodded quickly, and we moved on. Horatio reached to squeeze my hand, and I let him reassure me.
I felt lost too. Despite having Horatio back, I felt like a failure. I felt like if my father could see me, he would be so disappointed in me, and I cared so much more about that than I ever had when he was alive.
It turned out that I didn't have to ask either Hamlet or Horatio if the ghost of King Hamlet had returned. One of the guards from the castle walls came running inside late at night, screaming about a ghost. "An apparition!" he yelled. "An omen of bad fortune for all of Denmark!"
The man woke up most of the castle with his screaming, and later, I heard he was brought to who will now be referred to as "the false king" if not by name. No one knew what happened after that, but he was back at guard duty before long, and much quieter than he had been before. It left me being the only one, besides the false king, who knew who and what the apparition was. That was, until the guard saw the ghost again, and asked Horatio to come see, several nights later. I think the guard was afraid to ask Hamlet. If I wasn't friends with the prince, I might have been afraid to talk to him as well.
But in the end, he asked Horatio, who was a skeptic when it came to that sort of thing. In any other circumstance, I would have been the same. But I knew how this play would go. I knew the ghost was real, at least in this world, and I knew the apparition was that of the dead King Hamlet.
I would have told Horatio, but then I would have to tell him where my knowledge came from. He had accepted my knowledge without question last time, but Claudius had always been sketchy and all about self-gratification, so it wasn't a stretch to believe me. But knowing that a ghost was real, that a whole different story. So I stayed quiet about what I knew, even when he told me about it.
"I saw the apparition," he murmured to me. We were out in the forest, resting and talking. We started doing that again, but without Hamlet and Ophelia. I wasn't sure how much those two had been talking lately. Hamlet seemed to spend more of his time alone, and I felt for him. I had barely known the old king. He had always been off in the distance, like a side character that is barely there.
"It was real," he continued. "I've never believed in ghosts, so I don't know what to do with this information. It's hard to process." I nodded. I could imagine how hard it was. I liked that I could talk about serious things with Horatio. I had always been horrible at small talk, and that seemed to be all the people of the court had wanted in those months without Horatio. This was much better. It didn't really matter what the rest of the court was saying about me, or about Claudius and I. I knew several of the ladies, the ones who had been jealous of me, must have been celebrating my fall from grace, and I almost wanted to tell them what he was really like. Girls that I liked or not, they didn't deserve to have to deal with mental or physical abuse. No one did. But I couldn't say anything. I just hoped none of them fell for his anything.
"And who was it?" I asked quietly, playing with the grass beneath me. I knew, but I had to hear him say it.
"I think it was the old king. It looked like him, and the ghost was wearing his armor. I made Bernardo promise that he wouldn't tell Hamlet. If anyone is going to tell him, it should be me, but I'm afraid it would be a bad idea. He seems different since his father died, which makes sense, but he's... almost willing to commit violence against his father's killer. And we know who that is, but all of the noble's like Claudius. Even if they knew the truth, I don't think it would make a difference."
I sighed. "That was his plan. Make sure everyone is on his side, he's in no danger. How is he, as king?" I asked. So far, I had been actively avoiding anywhere that Claudius might be. That meant no parties, which, to be honest, I wasn't exactly upset about. Maybe my feet would finally heal from the heels they were constantly being put in. I had time to relax, and be alone, which was definitely a new sensation since coming to Elsinore. I enjoyed the solitude at night. I still didn't understand the attraction of constant parties.
Since Claudius thought I didn't remember, I hoped that would keep me safe, as well as Gertrude's affection. Other than that, there was really nothing else I could do about it. "He's... pretty much the same as he was before. Cares more about satisfying his lust and hunger than actually ruling. Hopefully the people will realize their mistake and make Hamlet king."
I lay back in the grass. "Do you really think that will happen?" I asked.
He sighed and joined me, taking my hand. "No, I don't. But I hope. What do you think about the ghost?" he murmured.
"I'm not sure," I replied. "But Hamlet already has enough on his plate. Should we add the maybe ghost of his father to it?" I wanted to put this event off as long as possible. Despite my lack of hope, I couldn't just give up on my father's mission. At least, that was thought on a good day. I knew that Claudius wasn't done yet. And there was Prince Fortinbras, from Norway, as well. The Norwegian prince had always been a far off part of the plot. By the time he showed up, the show was over. But who knew how much I had changed by coming into the story? Maybe we would get there before the end. Maybe...
I shot up. "Fortinbras," I said quietly.
Horatio sat up, his brow furrowed. "What about him?"
"What do you know about him?" I asked, looking at him.
"Um... I know he wants revenge on the king... well the former king, for taking lands from his father. That's about it. I've never met him. Why?"
I bit my lip. This was probably another terrible idea. Maybe it would be better to keep it to myself. Wait. I had done that before, and my plan had failed. Maybe I DID need to confide in Horatio.
"If things get bad, and I mean very bad, maybe he's the answer. He wants revenge, we could give it to him."
"I still don't understand, Corrine, what are you talking about?"
"I'm saying that Claudius wouldn't have a problem killing Hamlet, if he's a threat. To save Hamlet's life, maybe we should talk to Prince Fortinbras of Norway. I'd rather have him as my king than Claudius. And the enemy of my enemy IS my friend."
