…when the daylight returned the king was dead…
He was dying and lately liked to be among the late queen’s flowers in the greenhouse. He said he could still feel her when he sat, smelling the sweet perfumes of the blooms. I woke up one night angry and upset. I needed to see him right away. He was asleep on the day bed. The moon shone over his face. I hurried to his side and gently laid my head on his chest. “Everything will be fine, my dove,” he promised again. I listened to his heart beat until it went still with the rise of the sun.
This is part of a story I’ve been messing around with.