How do I tell him his father has died? How can I comfort him? Should I place a hand on his shoulder or suggest he sits down first? If only I could say something to soften the blow, to let him know that I care. But I am already at the door, already turning the handle. Nervously I enter the hall, filled with so many more people than I had hoped. He catches sight of me then and raises his gloved hand. Silence falls. It is time to break the news.
‘The king is dead! Long live the king!’