THE ROOT OF BITTERNESS

People of the palace remained busy deep into the night as preparations for Arthur’s victory feast went on. This reading gave the play the tension that it so desired even though the doctor pretends to be sick. Consequently Alfred made a carefully crafted plan of action which had nicely slotted into operation, all that was left for Arthur was to fake a performance which was believable.

Arthur remained seated in his room, all the while feigning he was too ill to physically get out of his bed. His cheeks rather pallid and his face looked tired, but he was inimitable enough to make all the servants gossip about what ailed the prince. On the other hand, Alfred used appearance to ensure that he passed by certain people to gain their sympathy on the status of Arthur.

When finally King Frederic called Alfred to meet him and ask about health of his son, the later performed his part well. “Your Majesty, Arthur is rather sick; he’s not eaten much, even getting up from the bed is a challenge for him now He said, maybe if Diana could cook something for him that would cheer him up”.

In order to preserve the facade of family harmony, which is greatly valued in Denmark King Frederic had no objection to the marriage. If that’s what he thinks will do the trick then fine it is agreed Diana will cook a meal for Arthur.

Annoyed by the sudden urge of Andy to see her naked, but also equally lost in her dilemma, Diana agreed. She went into the kitchens and spent much time cooking for all of them a very basic but healthy meal. She was thinking about Arthur and she was also a bit apprehensive, although she could not tell why.

Diana brought a tray full of food to Arthur before dusk came. She rapped gently on the door and opened it, and there he lay on the pillows looking weak, but with that pathetic eagerness in his eyes which women find so irresistible. “Arthur, I’ve come to bring you food,” said she in a low tone and placed the tray on the bedside table.

Arthur smiled weakly. “It means a lot that you came, Diana,” he said, grateful for the sight of her and regretting at the same time that she was going. He knew this was his time, the end of Alfred’s plan which he had been waiting for quite some time.

“But Diana, could you sv to me for a while?” Arthur asked as he sounded almost begging. ”It’s been days now and I never felt this lonely till today, this alone now knowing you are around has made me feel comforted in a big way.

Diana paused, but then quietly agreed and sat in a chair next to the bed where he lay. They spoke for a while and Arthur tried to look as believable as possible as a man who is broken inside. Gradually, he changed the topics of the conversation to more personal ones in the hope of making Diana open up to him.

Arthur stretched out and carefully made the foot-and-a-half journey and took her hand, and enclosed it in both of his. “Diana, I was standing in the shower this morning and I started thinking a lot today, I thought about family, I thought about us, I thought about you.”

Diana now had a chill down her spine. “Arthur, I do not understand what you are saying,” she said before quickly withdrawing her hand.

Before she could do anything, Arthur grabbed her wrist and squeezed rather tightly. “I want you, Diana. I was still option you over and over again I can’t seem to stop.”

Seeing this Diana froze, her eyes teary and widened in fear as she attempted to struggle free from Arthur’s grip; fully aware of his sickness the Briton was amazingly muscular. Arthur did not let her go; he only held her wrists tightly while she screamed at him:

Regardless, Arthur’s desperation had seeped in by then, which was why he would not let her go. He’s moving her, now closer, and the look in his eyes, the way he’s holding her…he wants her. “Diana, please,” he said almost choking on his words. "I need you. "

Diana’s screams remained unheard as she had tried pulling the attention of everyone around her for a long time, but the square walls of the palace absorbed the sounds made by her. Alfred had made sure they would not be interrupted and had left for the door to be guarding it from any inquisitive souls that might wander in. In the room Arthur yielded to the desire and left the last shred of control.

By the later part of the day the deed was completed. Diana was on the bed now, crying, her body shivering from the impact of the information she received and the physical pain. What Arthur was beginning to see was the magnitude of what he had done, he started feeling a surge of shame and disgust. He stretched out a hand towards her, but she flinched back, her stare positively venomous , as if she harbored both hatred and of fear towards him.

“Diana, I. .. “ Arthur started a phrase but was helpless. He began to realize what he had done and the feeling of nausea rose from his stomach to his throat.

Diana instead of lying down and screaming at the top of her lungs like any sane person would do at this point, clawed herself up from the bed, summoned all the energy that was left in her and limped towards the door. She opened it to find Alfred standing there with an expression of satisfaction of the face. “You’re done?” he questioned, but, without any reply, Diana pushed him violently and rushed out of the building where the horrific experience of the sitting had just taken place.

After what had happened Arthur was left all alone in his room feeling the consequences of what he did. He learnt there was no turning back from this and he realized there was nothing he could do to reverse the damage done. His mind was a whirl of actions that he would take next, the returns that came with it.

Absorbing the cruel comment, Diana followed swiftly and as she turned and walked rapidly towards the door her steps were inter parody with Williams’. His face grimaced in worry when he found her hair unkempt, and tears rolling down her face. “Diana, what is it?” he demanded, worriedly but Diana’s reply was cut short by her crying.

Something told Williams that what he was going to see was terrible and with anger and fear pumping through his veins, he marched himself to Arthur’s quarters. He threw open the door having likely heard of the commotion and saw Arthur seated on the bed with his head resting on his hands.

“Arthur, what have you done?” Williams asked furiously, his tone turning into growl. Arthur raised his eyes; his countenance was fairly written with misery; but he could not articulate a word.

Williams advanced and with clenched fists, he was fuming mad. ‘You will answer for this,’ he said threateningly, although his voice quivers with the rage that was barely contained. Of all of them, only you will answer both to Father and to me.