Speak to his mother alone

Stewart takes his mother by her hands and has her stand. “Mother, what is this? Come, I must speak with you — alone.” He leads her to the private sitting room and closes the door.

“What do you mean Father is dead?” he asks.

“I know.... It is all so sudden,” she says, her voice beginning to show signs of tremor. “He had complained of feeling unwell last evening; we both assumed it was indigestion. This morning he seemed to be fine, although now that I think about it, his complexion was rather off.... We think it must have been a heart attack.”

“Where is he?”

“He is in the bedroom,” replied the queen. “The doctors are preparing his body for burial.”

“I must go see him,” said Stewart, moving toward the door.

“Wait, my son,” said the queen. “He is not in a fit state to be seen right now. Give them time to prepare him for viewing.”

“Not in a fit state?”

Embarassment flushes upon Caroline’s face, momentarily masking her grief. “We were — being affectionate — when he collapsed. He is not dressed.”

Stewart took in her words without comment. Inwardly, he comforted himself with the knowledge that his father went out of this life happy, and hoped he could earn the same pleasurable ****, albeit many decades in the future.

“You have more pressing things to concern yourself with,” said the queen. “All of this rests on you now.” She held up her hands and motioned all around them, referring to the weight of national administration. “There are many decisions that need to be made, and it’s up to you to make them.”

With these words, Stewart felt an immense weight press down on him. He had not yet come to grips with the **** of his father. He certainly had not taken time to reconcile with being the sovereign.

His mother sensed his concerns. “You have good men right outside that door who will advise you. Listen to their advice, but in the end, you are the one who must decide. Now, I believe I hear your brother and sister arriving; I must go speak with them.”

With that, the queen stepped out of the room, leaving to his own thoughts Stewart, King of Mirantia.