The changing of the guards echoed faintly through the courtyards, servants finished their final duties before withdrawing to their quarters, and throughout the kingdom the first stars had begun appearing above a realm that had now spent five days beneath its new ruler.
Inside the infirmary, however, none of that mattered.
A grandfather clock standing near the far wall ticked softly into the silence.
Its hands crept steadily toward the eighth hour of the evening.
Eight o'clock.
They had waited since dawn.
Every few minutes someone had looked toward the bed believing they had seen her fingers move, or believing her eyelids had fluttered, or convincing themselves her breathing had somehow changed. Each small hope dissolved beneath closer examination, leaving behind nothing except the same peaceful stillness that had endured for days.
The physicians had quietly convinced themselves that today would be different.
That today she would finally open her eyes.
