Journal Entry Nine

9. April 2020

It has been over three weeks since we have been in isolation at the palace. My fear of COVID-19 is finally starting to subside. The initial terror that I felt seems to fade by the day. Health experts here in Europe and the United States continue to report many of the virus-related deaths had underlying health conditions. Thankfully, I remain very healthy at 41 years of age.

King Jonas and I have been working non-stop from our offices in the castle. I find myself working more hours now than I had before the virus struck. I am not sure why that is; perhaps it is because I am trying to keep myself distracted from the pandemic’s uncertainty.

This afternoon, during an effort to get some exercise, I took a stroll around the palace. I decided to go into the lower levels of the palace. I find it humorous that there are still persistent rumors on the Internet that a dungeon lies beneath this enormous castle, but I can assure you there is no such thing. Now and then, urban legends rear their ugly heads regarding the purported dungeon. These stories used to upset me when I was younger, but now I secretly search them out on the Internet for a good laugh.

One outrageous legend tells of how King Friedrich kept his mistress and their three illegitimate children in the dungeon. According to this legend, they died of starvation after the assassination of Friedrich. Over the years, this legend has morphed into the belief that the palace is haunted. According to the myth, the mistress and the children still roam the palace looking for King Friedrich to avenge their deaths. What would a centuries-old castle be without a good ghost story?

I apologize for going off track. Now back to my stroll in the lower levels. I can concede that one may find these levels resembling a dungeon due to the cold, damp atmosphere of their stoned walls; however, I have nothing but fond memories of playing games down there, including a form of hide-and-seek that Jonas and I made up with our siblings. There are many locations in the lower levels for someone to hide, and that was precisely what I found two young adults doing this afternoon.

Behind a wooden door that was slightly ajar, I could hear the whispers of laughter. As I peered through the door’s opening, I could see a silhouette of two figures. Their shadows danced on the wall as the candle’s flame flickered in the tiny room. How I remember days like these, but, as a parent, I had adult responsibilities to uphold.

I knocked gently before opening the door wider. The two teenagers froze with embarrassment and horror when they saw my face. Before I had a chance to speak, the phrases “We were just talking” and “We weren’t doing anything” leaped from Otto and Princess Emily’s mouths. I responded with a slight smile and asked them to blow out the candle. The two followed me in silence as I led the way upstairs, guided only by the glow of my flashlight.

Young love. Now I must decide how to tell the king that the heir to his throne, his 16-year-old daughter, was with his private secretary’s 16-year-old son in the palace’s alleged dungeon.