One

The Buckingham Palace, Westminster, 2050

"She has requested bacon and eggs?" asked Max, surprised to see fried bacon on the Queen's breakfast plate.

Alfred gave a gentle nod, while peeping below the pan to carefully adjusting the flame. The sizzling of the eggs slowed down.

"This should be trending on Twitter!" chuckled Max. "I don't remember the last time she had a breakfast other than cereals and fruits." He wasn't exaggerating though. British were rather obsessed with their queen. And lately, a lot of nonsense about her had been making headlines.

Alfred, however, wasn't listening. Max leaned over to get a better look. He was the youngest chef in the kitchen and would not miss a chance to learn something new, even if it was as simple as frying eggs.

"Doesn't it baffle you?" asked Max, when the eggs were done and placed on a plate.

"What?" asked Alfred, not getting the context.

"The Queen's age," clarified Max. "She is now 124 - the oldest living person ever. And, she doesn't seem to be ageing at all. She has looked the same ever since I have seen her."

The question was not new to Alfred. As the Head Chef in the Royal Kitchen for 23 years, he had his share of discussions on the Queen's age. "Well," he said. "Your concern is not new. It used to be a hot topic of gossip in the Palace many years ago. Everyone had their ideas. Some said she wore special makeup, others said she ate fruits and vegetables grown in unpolluted soils of a distant island. I had even heard rumours that government tried to sanction a scientific research on her, but failed. Nevertheless, over the years people have got used to her not ageing. People now expect to see her the next day like sun rising after the night."

"And you? What do you think?" asked Max.

"I don't really care," replied Alfred. "And, I don't understand people's obsession with her."

"I used to feel the same," said Max. He was leaning by the kitchen slab, staring at the wall in front, as if lost in a deep thought. After a moment's pause, he added, "But, after Prince Edward died, I couldn't help feeling somewhat suspicious."

"Suspicious?" questioned Alfred. Prince Edward was her youngest son who died of age. What was suspicious about that?

"Yes. She has outlived all her children. Isn't that a big burden to carry? If it were my mom, she would probably lose all her desire to live."

"That's not right," said Alfred in strong disagreement. "She successfully raised her children, and all of them had a happy life. She has fulfilled her responsibilities well."

"Don't get me wrong, I am not judging her," clarified Max. "She has every right to live the life that has been gifted to her. But…" He was at loss of words to describe his intuitions for the Queen. After a short while, he continued, "I don't know. She doesn't seem to be affected at all by this. At times, I feel there is something extraordinary behind this."

Alfred had arranged the breakfast tray by then. He handed it over to Merry and instructed her to serve it to the Queen at once, for the eggs and bacon were getting cold.

Finished with preparing the breakfast, he seemed much more interested in what Max had to say. "Extraordinary? Like what?" he asked.

Max had a curious mind and loved conspiracy theories. For sure, he had already framed a few about the Queen. With a sudden excitement on his face, he said, "There are many possibilities. For one, there may be a secret team of doctors working to stop her ageing?"

"I highly doubt it," said Alfred. "It would be hard to assemble such a team, given so many eyes watching who goes in and out of the Palace."

"Hard, but not impossible," said Max at once.

"Even if she did, it's highly improbable that they would be the ones to discover the anti-ageing formula. There are teams around the world with better resources working on this since decades."

Max wasn't fully convinced. However, he was eager to propose more ideas, so he did not defend this one any further. "Maybe someone time travelled and gave her an immortality pill," he suggested next.

Time travelling was still science fiction in 2050. Alfred was quick to debunk this one. "There are more important things to do with such a discovery than to keep the old Queen of Britain alive." Max looked convinced this time.

"What if she is a vampire?" Max was going to propose next, but the words died on his lips. It sounded utterly stupid.

Max had numerous other theories buried somewhere in his memory. He stood silent for a while trying to recall them.

"If you are done with your wild theories," Alfred finally broke the silence, "can we get back to work? We have a lot of preparations to do for the lunch, the Queen is going to have guests."

Max, half lost in his thoughts, nodded and carried on with the lunch preparations.

***

It was a beautiful sunny day of April. The dawn had been a bit windy, but now the sun was high in the sky and the air was warm. Last few days had gone mostly cloudy, with occasional showers, so the day's clear sky was specially welcoming.

A lot of hustle and bustle could be seen in the Buckingham Palace since morning. Everyone was busy in preparations for the Queen's 125th birthday. Living one-and-a-quarter of a century was no small feat. A grand celebration was in plans since a few months and many stately events had been finalised.

The Queen wished to have a calm and a peaceful day as her birthday. But, you don't get that luxury being the queen of Britain. Guests from all across Europe had been paying her visit since early morning. Some of them were close to her and she was elated to meet them. The rest were more or less politically motivated, and meeting them was mere question of etiquettes. She was too polite to refuse them anyway, and greeted everyone with a smile.

At noon, she appeared in one of the Palace's front balconies and waved to her fans. They had been gathering in the Palace's gardens since morning. Everyone gave a loud cheer as soon as they saw their Queen standing strong by herself on her old legs. Some even cried. Over the years she had grown to become a symbol of strength for them. One could only imagine the difficulties she was facing at that age so bravely.

She returned after her fan's cheers faded and they started leaving to get comfort from the sun. She was feeling quite exhausted by then. Asking to postpone any scheduled events, she went straight to her bedroom and asked not to be disturbed. She requested a glass of orange juice before closing the door.

Max had been browsing Facebook on his phone when he was asked to prepare the glass by Alfred. Max did not like being given such a petty task and tried to refuse. Alfred, however, did not budge and sternly asked him, "Do it!" Actually, Max had over-baked the Queen's birthday cake in the morning which had set the whole kitchen at least a few hours back. Alfred was furious and had not been giving any significant work to him since then.

Max unwillingly picked up a few oranges and put them in the juicer. The oranges had been grown by the Queen herself. She was very fond of gardening and especially loved fresh juices of fruits from her greenhouse.

The glass was ready in a couple of minutes. However, there was no one available in the kitchen to serve it to the Queen. At first, Max tried to convince Merry, and then Jack to do the task. However, both knew it was a long walk to the Queen's bedroom. So, they promptly excused to being busy. Max frowned at them and tried to think of something else.

Alfred, however, wasn't appreciating the delay and asked him to get going immediately. Max, with knitted brows, removed his apron and dashed off to the Queen's bedroom.

***

By the time he reached there, he was panting and sweating. For no reason, he had been pacing throughout the way. Lucky for him, there was an armchair in the corridor that was probably being moved between rooms. He sat in it to catch his breath.

Max sprang back to his feet when this heart stopped pounding. The bedroom's door was just beside him. He turned the knob and walked straight in.

As soon as he did, a dire realisation struck him. He had forgotten to knock the door!

"My apologies, your majesty, ma'am," he said nervously. "I forgot to knock."

The Queen was standing by the bed and Max could only see her back. She was wearing the same lavender coat she had worn during the fan-meet. For no apparent reason, she had a crown on her head, which was certainly one of the Crown Jewels. Her hair emerging from beneath the crown appeared smoke grey instead of familiar perl white.

She was standing still as a statue. Her normal stance was rounded-shouldered, but at that time she was upright like a tree. She was gazing out of the room's window. When Max's curious glance went to the window, he could see nothing but blinding sunlight. He doubted if she was able to see anything outside at all.

There was a queer silence in the room, broken only by an occasional breeze coming from the open window. A sense of uneasiness filled Max.

Max waited for the Queen to respond, but she remained quiet. Max feared he had disturbed her and she wasn't appreciating it.

"I am here with the glass of juice you requested," said Max, almost stammering. "Where should I keep it?"

There was still no response from her.

Max was about to ask again, when, all of a sudden, the Queen's hand swung out and the next moment she was pointing to the console table in the right corner of the room.

Max went to the table at once and placed the glass on it. He turned and glanced back at the Queen.

"Would you need anything else, ma'am?" he asked.

While waiting for an answer, a sparkling light caught his attention. Max's searching eyes found it coming from a painting on the wall beside the window. He narrowed his eyes and looked closely.

It was reflection of the diamond in middle of the Queen's crown. In the brilliance of sunlight it glittered as if the brightest stars in the sky had been put together in an orb. There were numerous other gems and diamonds, beautifully crafted together, all around the crown, but the diamond outshone them all. It was easily the most awe-inspiring thing Max had ever seen. For a few moments he stood spellbound, forgetting where he was.

He was brought back to himself by a soft but stern voice, "Leave!"

The Queen had instructed him, rather rudely, to leave. Max immediately got his feet moving and left the room, closing the door behind.

On his way back, all he could think of was his queer experience in the room. The Queen's impolite behaviour was quite atypical of her. Even if he had entered without knocking, he didn't expect her to be that irked. May be it was fatigue from the day's schedule. However, she didn't seem to be resting either. Her upright posture looked unfamiliar, and she was just staring at nothing but bright light. Moreover, why was she wearing that crown? Was she was practicing for an upcoming ceremony during the day? Max could not think of any ceremony that would require wearing a Crown Jewel.

"What took you so long?" asked Merry when Max returned to the kitchen after a slow walk back.

Questions were still bouncing around his head. Somehow managing to gather a few words, he asked, "Is there any ceremony today where the Queen would wear a crown?"

"I don't think so," said Merry. Noticing the curious look on Max's face, she asked, "What happened?"

"When I entered her bedroom," said Max, "she was wearing a crown. And, I am sure it was one of the Crown Jewels."

Merry, who had been chopping vegetables, suddenly stopped and looked at Max. "That's impossible," she said shaking her head. "The Crown Jewels are worn only during important ceremonies, like, coronations and state openings of the parliament."

"Then she must have been feeling nostalgic about her old days and worn it to remember them."

"She may be," said Merry. "But, definitely not a Crown Jewel. They are kept in Tower of London and need to be bought in high security. The Queen cannot simply request them at will."

Max got even more confused hearing that. The crown definitely looked like a Crown Jewel. It could be a copy the Queen got made for herself. But, no one would put a diamond on a copy. He was sure it was a real diamond, for no other thing in the world could glitter with that beauty.

"What was she doing wearing it?" asked Merry after Max did not speak anything for sometime.

"She was just standing," said Max, "and staring at the window. I don't know what was she looking at so curiously that she didn't event bother to turn around. I couldn't see anything myself except sunlight."

"Look," said Merry. "You must have confused a tiara with a crown. I know both are very different from each other, but, from what I understand, the light was bright and she wasn't facing you. So, its possible your eyes got deceived."

By now, Max had himself started doubting what he had seen. It was all too strange and, as Merry had suggested, it was probably an illusion. Max somehow managed to convince himself that it was just one of her tiaras and got back to work.

A couple of months later, Max woke up from a nightmare. The same incident had replayed in his sleep, until when he kept the glass and turned. He saw the Queen right in front of him. Before he could make out how she managed to creep up to him so fast, she grasped his neck and began choking him. The tray in Max's hands feel and he struggled to breathe while trying to unclasp the Queen's hold. But, the hold was stronger than a python's strangle. The breeze from the window had now grown into a strong wind, and it seemed she was drawing power from it. Max slowly started fainting. The Queen's grasp grew stronger. Her face split into a creepy smile and slowly wrinkles and scars appeared on her face. She wasn't herself anymore. A bloodcurdling witch had taken her place. Max woke up the very next moment. He was breathing heavily and sweating. His hands want straight to his neck and he was relieved to realise that it was just a dream.

It was merely a nightmare but it had refreshed the incident's memories in Max's mind. The memories hadn't gone anywhere, actually. What happened that day sat somewhere deep in his brain, and it keep popping up, sometimes as nightmares, sometimes in conversations and many times as random thoughts of a bored mind.

Unconsciously, Max was trying to find explanations. He was sure the Queen was doing something private when he entered without knocking. Probably, that was why she didn't turned to him or say anything. What she was doing, he couldn't conclude.