A Princess Prays (5 page)

She went into his room and found him awake and delighted to see her.

“Come and talk to me, my dearest,” he said. “I am bored with my own company.”

“You know that I always love to be with you, Papa. Shall we talk or would you like to play a game of chess?”

“I would like to talk about you,” the King said.

“That will bore me. Let us leave things as they are at the moment and let us reminisce about Mama.”

The King smiled and she continued,

“Do you remember how happy we were when you taught me to swim in the river? And Mama used to cook a picnic so we could all be together without a bodyguard or anyone interfering.”

The King sighed.

“The sun always seemed to shine and your mother and I were so happy.”

“So was I,” added Attila.

“I want you to be happy now, my dearest.”

“I do think, Papa, that you should pray and believe that you will get well.”

“The doctors all say there is nothing they can do for me.”

“Do you really think Mama would have listened to them or believed anything they said?”

There was silence for a moment and then the King replied,

“No, your mother would have made me a strong concoction of herbs and I would doubtless have been well again in a few days.”

“I think that is just what she wants you to be now,” Attila told him very softly.

Her father looked at her quizzically.

“Why do you say that?”

“I went to visit Father Jozsef this very morning and I prayed in his little Chapel. I was quite certain, Papa, that Mama was there telling me you had to believe you were going to get well.”

She saw her father was listening to her.

“Mama often said the secret of being healed was to
believe
you would be.”

“I can remember her saying that,” agreed the King.

“She always said it and I am sure she was right.”

“What you are telling me,” added the King slowly, “is that I should not accept what the doctors have said, but believe I shall recover.”

“If you believe, which is what Mama would want you to do, I am quite certain you will be well again soon.”

She pressed her hand over his.

“You are wanted, wanted desperately by everyone. Do you sincerely believe that I, Stepmama or anyone else could take your place?”

The King drew in his breath.

“It has been worrying me a great deal.”

“Do not waste your time and brain worrying, just believe you are going to recover and of course I know, almost as if I can hear her telling you, that is what Mama is praying you will do.”

There was silence and Attila knew her father was thinking of her mother and how much he had loved her.

After what seemed a long time the King said,

“I will do what you tell me to do, because I know it is what your mother would have wanted. But I have been thinking that if I were to die, I would be with her and that to me would be Heaven.”

“I don't think Mama is far away from any of us, Papa. Equally she would not want you to shirk your duty. As I have always said – Valdina needs you desperately.”

“You are quite right, my dearest, and I do admit to being rather feeble in accepting the verdict of those doctors without really querying it.”

“They just make it safe for themselves. If you die they will say they predicted it and if you recover they will say it is their brilliance that saved you!”

The King laughed as she wanted him to do.

“You are quite right, my dear, that is exactly what they are thinking and I never thought much of them as men let alone as physicians.”

“Then forget them and promise me, Papa, that you will say to yourself over and over again, ‘I am going to be well, I am going to be well!'”

“Now you are bullying me,” he protested. “At the same time because I love you, I will do what you tell me.”

Because she knew he would not break his promise, Attila then turned the conversation to other subjects.

They talked of the races they were going to have. One was to be in boats on the river, another would be over the mountains.

In the past the King had always taken part in these races and he had inevitably been the winner and Attila told him that some people in the country had been training racehorses and intended to challenge him.

This was true to some extent, but she exaggerated it to raise her father's interest, as he would have to decide which horses he would enter for the five mile race.

At the end of the race the winner would receive a very handsome trophy.

“I think tomorrow, if you feel strong enough, which I am sure you will be,” suggested Attila, “you might order the horses paraded in the garden so that you can see them from the window. There is one special horse I particularly want you to notice.”

She went on to describe the horses which had only been brought into the stables since her father's illness.

She knew when she had finished that he was just as interested as he always had been in good horse flesh.

The King would definitely make an effort to sit at the window tomorrow to see his horses and when she left her father he was not as limp and wan as usual.

He had talked animatedly to her of the races which had taken place in previous years.

There was a particular one which he and her mother had arranged when Attila was fifteen, when she had raced against children of her own age.

“I cannot think why we ever gave it up,” the King muttered.

Attila knew a great many things had been given up or neglected after her mother died, but she thought it would be unwise to say so.

Instead she urged,

“Hurry up and get well, dear Papa, I have so many new ideas which only you can put into operation. But I am not going to tell you about them now.”

“I want to hear them all and if they are for the good of our people, I must try and find someone interested who will arrange what you want.”

“The only one who could arrange anything I want is you, Papa. You know what old fuddy-duddies they are in Parliament and most of the courtiers say they don't like change.”

The King laughed.

“I can hear them saying it!”

“Mama always said that you had the most brilliant ideas and by sheer force of will you made them a success.”

“Did she really say that?”

“She told me many times and you know as well as I do, Papa, that if they can put their feet up and grumble ‘what was good enough for my grandfather is good enough for me,' that is the attitude of most of them in this Palace.”

The King laughed again.

“I can see I shall have to wake them all up, Attila!”

“Of course you must, Papa and the sooner the better or else we shall have moss growing all over the Palace and on the heads of most of the people in it!”

The King kept on laughing.

Just as Attila was going to say more her stepmother came into the room.

“You are not to tire your father, Attila,” she began in a scolding tone.

“She is not tiring me,” protested the King. “In fact I am feeling better.”

There was just a moment's pause before the Queen gushed,

“That is marvellous! But of course you must not do too much. Now lie still and rest. I am sure it is time for you to take your medicine.”

The King looked at his daughter and Attila shook her head.

The Queen had walked to a table at the side of the room and poured into a small medicine glass some rather dark concoction the doctor had prepared for him.

She took it to the bedside and handed it to the King.

“Now drink this,” she ordered, “you know we must do exactly as the doctors have told you.”

“Oh, look, Stepmama!” exclaimed Attila, “there is that beautiful bird you admired yesterday at the fountain.”

Queen Margit turned towards the window.

“Where?” she asked as she reached it.

“It is looking even prettier than when you first saw it,” added Attila.

As she spoke she quickly took away the medicine glass the King was holding in his hand.

She emptied it swiftly into a vase of flowers on the table next to his bed.

“I cannot see the bird,” the Queen grumbled as she turned from the window and walked back to the bed.

The King was holding the empty medicine glass in his hand and she took it from him saying,

“Now you will feel better and don't forget you have to take another glassful before you go to sleep.”

The King's eyes were twinkling as he glanced at his daughter.

“I will not forget,” he promised.

Attila kissed him and promised she would come back and say goodnight to him later.

Then she went to her bedroom and began to decide which clothes she would take with her on her pilgrimage with Father Jozsef.

She knew it would be a mistake to take any of the dresses she wore every day. These were all attractive as her father gave her a large dress allowance and most of them came from the best dressmakers in the City.

They used materials which had been woven in other parts of Europe and sometimes the gowns had particularly lovely embroidery imported from the East.

‘As a pilgrim I must look poor,' Attila decided.

There did not seem to be anything at all suitable in her wardrobe and then she suddenly remembered that in the attics there was a vast collection of clothes left by every generation of her family.

They had been kept just in case they came in useful and her mother had often laughed and said that one day they would be able to open a fashion museum.

She obtained the key from the housekeeper and said firmly she did not need her to accompany her as she was only looking for a small item she felt might be stored there.

The attics, which fortunately were dry, were packed with different clothes.

In one room there was the uniform and riding boots worn by her grandfather, as well as his evening clothes and even those he wore at his Coronation.

One complete attic was given over to the previous Kings, but there were many more rooms for everything that had been left behind by the Queens.

Their wedding dresses and all the many gowns they wore at Court and in mourning were hanging up neatly.

Attila passed from room to room seeing nothing but heavy embroidery, ermine and furs. There were trains she was sure required at least three stalwart pages to carry.

Finally she stopped at one dingy small room where things were different.

It took Attila a little time to remember that one of her unmarried great-aunts had become very religious in her old age. She recalled being told how Great-Aunt Louisa had visited Churches and Shrines all over Europe.

Attila looked around carefully to find that her great-aunt had worn a number of garments which she considered to be correct for a pilgrim.

In fact some of her clothes were very like those of a nun, except that they were actually made of more expensive materials and strangely enough they were rather becoming when Attila tried them on.

What she did admire was a cape her great-aunt had clearly covered herself with when she was travelling, which had a little hood that she could pull down over her face.

She picked up two capes and a number of plain dresses with long sleeves, and by the time she had finished she had a nice pile of clothes to take down to her bedroom.

Then she remembered that if she did so, her lady's maid would surely wonder why she required them, so she took another look round the attics and found just what she expected.

There were big stacks of old trunks, cases and even some bags.

She managed to squeeze everything she had chosen into a bag and a case and carried them downstairs without asking the help of any of the pages.

She put them in the bedroom next to her own, which was not in use, sure that no one would notice them there.

When she finally returned to her own room, it was time for her to have her bath before dinner.

*

Later that night she went to say goodnight to her father.

When she entered the room, the blinds were drawn and there was still a lighted candle by his bedside.

“I thought you would come to see me, my dearest,” he said when Attila appeared. “I want you to throw away these sleeping draughts the doctors always give me. I am certain, after what you said, it makes me feel drowsy in the morning.”

Attila picked up the glass and taking it to the open window, she emptied it into the garden.

“You know that Mama always said if you could not sleep, you should take a little honey.”

“I had forgotten her excellent advice and when the doctors insisted their medicine was good for me, I believed them.”

“I am certain their sleeping draughts make you feel muzzy, as you have just said, and they are also very bad for your brain, Papa.”

“You are quite right, my dearest, and I will not take one again. In fact after our talk this afternoon I feel better already.”

Attila hugged him.

“You are so sensible and intelligent, Papa. How could you possibly think those stupid men could ever know better than Mama?”

“I am going to get well,
I am going to get well
,” the King recited.

Attila hugged him again.

“That is so right, Papa, you have always got what you wanted even if you have had to fight for it. So you
will
win this battle.”

“I am certainly going to try and that, incidentally, is something I had not thought of before.”

“You
will
win,” Attila prophesised and kissed him again.

CHAPTER THREE

The butler knocked on the King's bedroom door.

“Come in,” he called.

“Father Jozsef, Your Majesty.”

The King pushed himself a little higher up in bed.

“I was much looking forward to seeing you, Father Jozsef,” he greeted him.

They shook hands and Father Jozsef sat down on a chair beside the bed.