Marching On

Lavin lifted up her bottom from the chair she had been occupying for the last several hours. It had gone numb after the first two had elapsed.

She arched and curved her back, attempting to stretch it out. The papers in front of her had become a giant blur of words and nothing was making sense in her head anymore.

Making a grab at the teacup told her it had gone cold. Lavin moved the tea bag around in the water, the residue from the bottom stirring up and swirling.

Fredensborg Palace was silent this time of night. Her mother was asleep along with her brothers.

She glanced across the circular table at her father, King Fredrick. He was pouring over his own stack of papers.

Lavin let go of the string, letting the teabag to sink to the bottom and returned to her reading. It was a very large article about Denmark's foreign policy.

She read to herself: "A coherent EU performance in foreign policy matters is pivotal when trying to have a greater impact in the world..."

Lavin stopped reading, there was nothing particularly exciting when it came to reading about foreign policy, or any sort of policy.

The Tiffany lamps were more attention grabbing, with the colored glass reflecting off the wallpaper.

She looked at her father, the lights were reflecting off his reading glasses so that she couldn't see his eyes. Lavin could hear his feet shuffling on the carpet underneath and the pen he held in his left hand tapping against the wood.

Lavin looked back down at the article. "The European foreign policy is coordinated between the Member States."

She blinked and in that instant lost her spot. Scanning the page she quickly found it and read the same sentence again.

And again.

She huffed inaudibly and leaned against the back of the chair. The paper couldn't keep her attention but she hoped that something in her father's quarters would.

She watched the pendulum of the grandfather clock swing. She watched it swing for who knows how long, but, then Fredrick cleared his throat.

Her eyes, wide and feeling as if she'd misbehaved, instantly went back to staring down at her papers.

Peaking through her eyelashes she saw that he hadn't even glanced up. Then she saw him rub his Adam's apple and clear his throat again. The sound was gritty and rough.

Now he was coughing, covering his mouth with the corner of his elbow. The fit lasted longer than Lavin expected it would.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Fredrick swallowed thickly before answering. "Yes, a-okay. I think I'm just catching a bit of a cold."

"Sound more serious than a cold."

"Perhaps," Fredrick shrugged, stacking his paperwork neatly. "the flu then."

"Maybe we should call it a night...?" Lavin baited, pushing away the article.

"What time is it anyway?" Fredrick asked. He shook his wrist until his watch showed its face. "Past midnight!"

Lavin nodded languidly. "Way past midnight." Her eyes felt dry and sticky.

"Time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?" He smiled playfully now, but Lavin could see the edge of tiredness creep into his blue eyes.

"Yes, fun indeed," Lavin replied dryly. She stood from her chair and waited for her father.

Fredrick covered his mouth with a hand as he crouped again. "Excuse me," He muttered.

They stepped out of his large office and into the dimly lit corridors.

"Maybe you should get that checked out. Sounds pretty bad," she offered.

"If it persists, I will," Fredrick said, sticking out his pinky. "Swear."

Lavin laughed, wrapping her pinky around his. "I'm gonna hold you to it."

They began walking up the staircase towards their bedrooms.

"Christmas is soon," he commented as they stepped.

"I know." Lavin said.

"Anything particular you want this year?"

Lavin shook her head. "I haven't really thought of anything special. Although my Mercedes is in need of some new tires."

"How about you?" she asked him.

Fredrick smiled, shooting her a sideways glance. "I would really like to have a new painting from you."

"A painting?" Lavin said, her eyebrows raised. This was an unusual request since he knew she favored graphite over colored oil. "I haven't painted since I was -- what? -- fourteen?"

"All the more reason to do it. Just try and see what happens."

"I suppose I can," she said, mulling it over in her head. It would be fun to get back into it.

When they reached the top landing Fredrick changed the subject. "Have you decided on what you're getting Harry?"

Lavin didn't answered until they were in front of her bedroom door. She and Harry hadn't yet discussed Christmas or what they were getting each other.

"Not sure?" he assumed.

"I guess so. I'm sure I'll come up with something."

"Remember, a painting is always a good idea." He shot her a quick wink.

"Yeah, Dad. I'll keep that in mind," Lavin told him before retreating into her room after a goodnight kiss on her cheek.

But right before she closed her door she heard Fredrick coughing the entire way up the rest of the hallway.

I hope that goes away soon.