Kit gulped. He had known his father was ill, but he had never allowed himself to believe that their time together would be so limited. "Father," Kit started, sounding like a young boy. "What's happened?"

Kit entered his father's bedroom. His heart pounded in his ears, and his vision blurred as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. The curtains had been drawn on the windows of the round chamber. The royal physician was kneeling by the king's bed, finishing his examination. Hearing Kit, the doctor stood up and moved toward the door. Kit saw the expression on the doctor's face, and he knew what it meant: the king had little time left.

When they were alone, Kit strode to his father's bedside. The older man struggled to open his eyes. Upon seeing Kit, King Frederick smiled. "You've come," he said weakly. "Good."

"What happens to us all in time, my boy," King Frederick replied.

"Not to you," Kit said, trying to boost his father's spirits, even though they both knew it was futile. "Not to my king. Not to my father. You will recover."

The king smiled. "You must learn to lie better than that if you will be a good statesman."

"I must," the king said. "But you needn't be alone. Take a bride." When Kit began to shake his head, the king went on. "What if I commanded you to do so?"

Overwhelmed, Kit sank down on the bed, taking his father's hand in his. The hand he held was frail, the fingers thin and trembling. This was the hand that had held him when he was little. The hand that had signed peace treaties and the hand that had carried a sword. And now…"Father," Kit pleaded, tears welling in his eyes, "don't go."

That is unfair, Kit thought. But he had no desire to argue with his father on the man's deathbed. "I know that you want me to marry for advantage," Kit began.

"And…?" his father said.

"And I will not." The words came out in a rush. "I'm sorry. I love and respect you, but I won't. I believe we need not look outside of our borders for strength or guidance. What we need is right before us. We need only…" He paused, remembering what the mystery princess had said to him when they first met. "We need only have courage and be kind to see it."

"You must not marry for advantage," the king said. "You must marry for love. Find that girl they are all talking about. The forgetful one who loses her shoes."

Silence filled the chamber. King Frederick closed his eyes, and for one moment of panic, Kit worried he had said too much. Then King Frederick's eyes opened again. And to Kit's surprise, he nodded. "Just so," the king said, pride in his voice. "You have become your own man. Good. And perhaps, in the little time left to me, I can become the father you deserve."

This was not what Kit had expected. What did his father mean, become the father he deserved? While they didn't always see eye to eye, the king had been a loving and good father.

Kit broke into a sad smile. "But the Grand Duke…"

Kit smiled at the familiar words. He had just been given the greatest gift -- freedom. Freedom to choose and freedom to love. He didn't know what to say except "Thank you, Father."

"He will never rule so long as you are not mastered by him," King Frederick said, his voice growing weaker. "Be cheerful, my boy. Have courage, and be kind."

With great effort, King Frederick pushed himself up on the bed so he could look his son in the eye. "I love you."

As night fell beyond the curtains, father and son, king and prince, sat together in silence, happy to have this moment and aware they needed to cherish it for as long as they both could.