The king rules over his town with a generous smile and a sharp mind. His smile never dies and his mind never dulls over the long years he has ruled over the town and the many years to come. His face wrinkled with age and his hands lift with ever such a tremor as he points at me.
“Who are you?” He croaks out slowly, word by word as if he has forgotten the meaning of each letter.
“I am your daughter, your Highness.” I smile.
I learnt how to smile like him as a child. I used to sneak in to the throne room and watch as he addressed the town’s issues with a warm smile. I admired how he would always remain calm and smiling as all the issues of the town piled on as one person spoke, announcing one problem after another. I remember the times when everyone would leave, leaving the king sat on his golden throne in the middle of an empty stone hall. He would always spot me peeking behind a pillar, he would smile at me and open his arms. I would run up to him with a wide grin on my face and hug the king, hug my Father.
He knew who I was then, but now I am just a person who wonders the hall of the castle. He has forgotten me and my name that he has always said so lovingly. He has forgotten his daughters name but still rules over his people with a calming air about him and a voice that echoes in the great hall as he speaks his wise decisions.
My father always looked out for me, more so when my mother died. He would teach me how to fight and rule over a kingdom as I made him sit in a chair too small for his size and drink water from a cup that made him look like a giant. He taught me not to be queen but to be a king just like him. But on this day, I believe he forgets me each time he asks the same question he asks every day.
“Who are you?” He asks.
“I am your daughter, your Highness.” I smile. Knowing his presence will soon be gone and missed by all.
He nods, accepting the answer as he sits back in his chair and look onward, across the hall.