Kit entered his father's bedroom. His heart pounded in his ears, and his vision blurred as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. The curtains had been drawn on the windows of the round chamber. The royal physician was kneeling by the king's bed, finishing his examination. Hearing Kit, the doctor stood up and moved toward the door. Kit saw the expression on the doctor's face, and he knew what it meant: the king had little time left.

When they were alone, Kit strode to his father's bedside. The older man struggled to open his eyes. Upon seeing Kit, King Frederick smiled. "You've come," he said weakly. "Good."

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