Marching On

Dearest Harry,
It is hard for me to say. . . . but those words I said to you in the barn just before our polo match have proved to be a lie. Nothing hurts me worse than to hurt you again.
My father's cancer is worse than before. The doctors are hopeful for his recovery, but I can see him wasting away before our eyes. He's lost all color and his hair. The man in my parent's bedroom no longer looks like my father or the King of Denmark.
I am handling it well enough. I can't bare the sight of him but I must endure for my family's sake; for my country's sake.
And it is these reason why we can't be together once more. I'm so sorry but there can be no other way. This is the last time I'll say I love you.
Do not hate me. My life is and will forever be devoted to my country. My heart forever to you. I love you.
-L

Lavin expeditiously stuffed the delicate stationary into its envelope; she somehow managed to keep her tears from falling onto it. She wrote out Harry's address and placed the correct amount of stamps in the right hand corner before pressing it into her private secretary's hand.

"Get this out with the morning post, Clara," instructed Lavin, wiping the back of her hand against her nose.

"Are you sure?" Clara asked timidly.

Lavin only nodded before turning away from Clara, wrapping her robe more tightly around her; the thin fabric was doing everything but keeping her skin warm.

She looked to her bed, unmade and still warm. She longed to crawl back into its cozy depths, but sleep had become a stranger to Lavin since the night they learned of her father's worsening condition.

Lavin could hear the commotion from beyond her bedroom door. Family members were pouring in by the dozens, some of them she hadn't even heard of or hadn't seen in a decade. She knew someone would be calling on her to interact with them, to listen to condolences.

Just as she was about to drop her robe there was a knock at her door.

"Yes?" she called irritably, retying the sash.

The door opened just slightly to expose Ben whose hair was unkempt and eyes bloodshot. He stared at her.

"What?" she asked accusingly.

"May I come in?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Lavin closed her eyes. "Not this moment, Ben. I need to get dressed."

"Oh," Ben said, his tone confused and hurt. "Okay, I'll see you soon then."

Ben retracted his head and the door closed.

Lavin pushed the guilty feelings aside and dropped her robe as she stood in front of the ancient floor-length mirror. She, like her father, seemed to be wasting away. Her eyes were dark with circles, her cheeks were no longer full, and her breasts had shrunken.

Her appetite escaped her every time she saw her father or her thoughts passed to the responsibilities that were now hers along with the burden of carrying the weight of her entire family on her shoulders.

She tried with all her might to not let her mind wander to Harry, another stressful topic.

Lavin dressed in a summer dress, brightly colored in hopes to offset the dark mood that had been cast over the entirety of Fredensborg Palace. The family hadn't bothered to move to Marselisborg for the summer holiday because her mother did not want to be far from the hospital.

With hair brushed into a bouncy ponytail and makeup done to look as if she had been enjoying the warm weather she left her room.

Ben was sitting beside her door, waiting. He jumped to his feet by the time she closed her door.

"What relatives have showed up today?" she asked just for the sake of knowing.

They began to descend the stairs when Ben told her.

"Gen is here."

"What!?"

Lavin's heart nearly burst.

"Where is she?" she asked.

"In the dining room having breakfast with Grandpa and Grandma and Alex."

Lavin left Ben on the steps as she ran to the dining room. Nearly breathless, she stood in the doorway eyes finding Gen at once.

"GEN!"

"Lavin," Gen said happily, getting up from her seat.

They embraced tightly. Gen smelled of the soap from the guest bathrooms.

"What are you doing here?" Lavin asked. "No one was expecting you."

"I know. I only stayed in Africa this long to help with the children's summer camp the school holds each year but I need to be here now."

Ignoring the obvious hint at her ailing father, Lavin continued the conversation. "You'll have to tell me everything! I want to know what it's like to live in Africa."

"Oh, I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to catch up."

"How long are you here?" questioned Lavin eagerly.

Alex interceded here. "Until mid-September!"

"Really?" exclaimed Lavin, beaming.

Gen proved to be the uplifting spirit the palace needed. Lavin mood improved significantly over breakfast but had tapered off considerably when Gen had to meet her parents and brother at the airport and she was summoned to her father's bedroom.

She stepped in almost walking on her tiptoes, not wanting to fully be present in the room. Her eyes observed everything but her father. The curtains had been drawn like every day, but today the windows were cracked; a cool breeze swept across the room now and again.

Her father was propped up in his bed with a tray table across him. On it sat a steaming cup of tea and an apple tart on a small porcelain dish.

"Up for a cuppa?" Fredrick said, his pajama-covered arm offering her the seat beside his bed, tea and tart waiting for her.

"Sounds wonderful."

Lavin took the seat beside her father, thankful there was a table between them. As horrible as she was for feeling disgust every time she looked at her father she could not help it, the man in the bed looked only like a shadow of her father; his eyes seemed to have sunken in, his cheeks gaunt, and his hair entirely gone. Thick blue veins could be seen traveling up his neck and there was a breathing tube permanently inserted into his nose.

Lavin tipped the teacup to her lips.

"Blueberry," her father said excitedly before she even fully got to taste her tea. "It's always been my favorite."

"One of mine too," she said, trying hard to act normal.

Lavin looked around the bedroom once more and it was then that she noticed her mother was not to be found.

"Where's Mum?"

"Mother took her out to the gardens. The roses were ready to be picked or something of that sort. Thank goodness too; your mother has been acting like she's the one that's dying."

"Dad!" Lavin scolded, nearly dropping her cup.

"What? It's true."

"She's worried, Dad. We all are."

It was the first time Lavin had talked about Fredrick's illness with Fredrick.

"I'm hopeful and, more importantly, so are the doctors."

"Yeah, I know. That's really great."

"It is great, but you know what else has been great these past three weeks?" he said, grinning down at Lavin.

"Hm?" she wondered aloud.

"You. You've really done well every time you've stepped in for me. I've heard nothing but excellent things from Clara and Mikkel. Even the tabloids and newspaper are raving about their future queen."

Lavin blushed. "It's nothing."

"It's everything," Fredrick corrected. "You're going to be a great queen."

Lavin was saved from saying something by a knock on the bedroom door.

"Who is it?"

"Your sweetest, most wonderful, kindest, devastingly handsome brother," the voice behind the door sang.

"Grant," called Fredrick happily, shaking his head in quiet laughter.

The door swung open and Grant stepped in carrying two packages. Probably full of chocolate from his recent business trip to Belgium.

Grant swept Lavin into a one-armed hug and extracted a small box of caramels for her.

"For you, sweetheart."

Lavin thanked him for the chocolates and swiftly excused herself from the bedroom, stating that the two brothers had much to catch up on.

With the door closed behind her, she exhaled greatly, thankful for her uncle's distraction.

Lavin made her way through the maze of a palace.

She found Alex in the study, wildly typing away at his laptop.

"You've graduated, you can't be doing any work?" she asked incredulously.

"I'm not. Just researching, you know," replied Alex vaguely, his eyes not leaving the computer screen.

He had taken to searching the web for information on Fredrick's cancer. Just in three weeks time Alex had become knowledgeable enough to converse coherently with the numerous doctors that traveled through the front door each day.

Lavin caught Temperance and Lucy in the dining room arranging flowers, discussing passionately the inaccuracies of Downton Abbey. It was the first time she'd heard Temperance discuss a light-hearted subject.

She found Ben sitting by himself on the expansive back deck. The afternoon was beating harshly, heating up the stone underneath their feet.

She sat in the lounge chair beside him.

"Sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to be so. . . . cold."

Ben waved her apology away. "No worries, Lavin. I understand. All of our heads aren't in the right places."

"Uncle Grant brought sweets," she told him, offering the box. "From Belgium."

Ben eagerly took the box. "Excellent!"

They continued to share the chocolates until the box was empty. They sat in silence watching their grandfather, Sebastian, in the distance, hands clasped behind his back, walking the grounds. He'd been getting a lot of exercise lately, so much so that he was even strong enough to walk without his cane.

"I said my goodbye to Harry today," Lavin said evenly.

Ben just turned to look at her wide-eyed.

Lavin forced a straight smile.

"That's gonna make things awkward."

"What?"

"I'm headed to London this weekend to party with old uni mates and I'm sure Harry will be tagging along," Ben said.

Lavin didn't say anything.