Chapter 8 – The Question
The thirtieth morning began with the wool already under my knees.
I woke before the light entered the room. My knees felt normal. I went through the routine.
She entered, drank the tea, opened her book.
"Come closer."
I stepped forward. She checked the gloves.
"Kneel."
I knelt on the wool.
There was no pain.
The silence between pages was longer. I counted one hundred and thirty breaths.
She turned a page.
"You are very still," she said.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Good."
She continued reading.
I knelt longer.
When she closed the book, she said, "Stand."
I stood. My legs were steady.
"Go and rest."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
I went to the cot, folded the wool, lay down.
---
The thirty-first morning the wool was under my knees before she entered.
I went through the routine.
She entered, drank the tea, opened her book.
"Come closer."
I stepped forward. She checked the gloves.
"Kneel."
I knelt on the wool.
There was no pain.
The silence between pages was longer. I counted one hundred and forty breaths.
She turned a page.
"You are very still," she said.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Good."
She continued reading.
I knelt longer.
When she closed the book, she said, "Stand."
I stood. My legs were steady.
"Go and rest."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
I went to the cot, folded the wool, lay down.
---
The thirty-second morning the wool was under my knees before she entered.
I went through the routine.
She entered, drank the tea, opened her book.
"Come closer."
I stepped forward. She checked the gloves.
"Kneel."
I knelt on the wool.
There was no pain.
The silence between pages was longer. I counted one hundred and fifty breaths.
She turned a page.
"You are very still," she said.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Good."
She continued reading.
I knelt longer.
When she closed the book, she said, "Stand."
I stood. My legs were steady.
"Go and rest."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
I went to the cot, folded the wool, lay down.
---
The thirty-third morning the wool was under my knees before she entered.
I woke even earlier. The room was still dark, the air cool against my skin.
I went through the routine.
She entered, drank the tea, opened her book.
"Come closer."
I stepped forward. She checked the gloves.
"Kneel."
I knelt on the wool.
There was no pain.
The silence between pages was longer. I counted one hundred and sixty breaths.
She turned a page.
"You are very still," she said.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Good."
She continued reading.
I knelt longer.
The silence stretched further. I could hear the faint movement of air through the window, the quiet settling of the room, the steady rhythm of my own heartbeat.
When she closed the book, she said, "Stand."
I stood. My legs were steady.
"Go and rest."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
I went to the cot, folded the wool, lay down.
---
The thirty-fourth morning the wool was under my knees before she entered.
I woke before the light entered the room.
I went through the routine.
She entered, drank the tea, opened her book.
"Come closer."
I stepped forward. She checked the gloves.
"Kneel."
I knelt on the wool.
There was no pain.
The silence between pages was longer. I counted one hundred and seventy breaths.
She turned a page.
"You are very still," she said.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Good."
She continued reading.
I knelt longer.
The silence stretched further. I could hear the faint scratch of the pen as she marked a page, the soft rustle of paper.
When she closed the book, she said, "Stand."
I stood. My legs were steady.
"Go and rest."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
I went to the cot, folded the wool, lay down.
---
The thirty-fifth morning the wool was under my knees before she entered.
I woke before the light entered the room.
I went through the routine.
She entered, drank the tea, opened her book.
"Come closer."
I stepped forward. She checked the gloves.
"Kneel."
I knelt on the wool.
There was no pain.
The silence between pages was longer. I counted one hundred and eighty breaths.
She turned a page.
"You are very still," she said.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Good."
She continued reading.
I knelt longer.
The silence stretched further. I could feel the texture of the wool beneath my knees, the stillness of my hands on my thighs, the steadiness of my posture.
When she closed the book, she said, "Stand."
I stood. My legs were steady.
"Go and rest."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
I went to the cot, folded the wool, lay down.
---
The thirty-sixth morning the wool was under my knees before she entered.
I woke before the light entered the room.
I went through the routine.
She entered, drank the tea, opened her book.
"Come closer."
I stepped forward. She checked the gloves.
"Kneel."
I knelt on the wool.
There was no pain.
The silence between pages was longer. I counted one hundred and ninety breaths.
She turned a page.
"You are very still," she said.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Good."
She continued reading.
I knelt longer.
The silence stretched further. I could hear the faint tick of the clock down the corridor, the quiet of the room.
When she closed the book, she said, "Stand."
I stood. My legs were steady.
"Go and rest."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
I went to the cot, folded the wool, lay down.
---
The thirty-seventh morning the wool was under my knees before she entered.
I woke before the light entered the room.
I went through the routine.
She entered, drank the tea, opened her book.
"Come closer."
I stepped forward. She checked the gloves.
"Kneel."
I knelt on the wool.
There was no pain.
The silence between pages was longer. I counted two hundred breaths.
She turned a page.
"You are very still," she said.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Good."
She closed the book.
"Why do you stay still?"
The question stopped me.
I had expected "Stand." Instead she asked *why*.
I kept my eyes lowered.
"Because you told me to, Your Majesty," I said.
She was silent for a moment.
"Is that the only reason?" she asked.
I thought for a second. The truth was simpler than I expected.
"No, Your Majesty. The pain is gone when I stay still."
She nodded once.
"Stand."
I stood. My legs were steady.
"Go and rest."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
I went to the cot, folded the wool, lay down.
It was the first time she had asked me a question that wasn't an order.
I lay back and stared at the ceiling.
My knees felt normal.
My body had learned.
I closed my eyes.