I placed the china gently into cabinets. It was old. Over a century, now. From the balcony I could hear  Elizabeth greeting  visitors and her loyal supplicants and smiled to myself. She hadn't aged a day since her 90th birthday, and what a gala that was! People adored Her Grace and had lined the streets to watch England's most powerful woman pass by as they cried out birthday wishes.   Beloved Prince Phillip had passed on in 2021, mere days after his celebrated 100th birthday. England went dark for a  week in mourning. But still, Elizabeth lived on.  She couldn't die; England needed her. Even now, in the year 2050. 

I did not for one moment believe that those below failed to question her inexplicably lengthy life; in fact, I had heard the whispers of merchants in the streets wondering what potion she had taken, or who she may have made a deal with.  Charles and the Duchess Camilla had ultimately decided on the quiet life and left Elizabeth to rule in whatever form she saw fit.  Harry had finally found the love of his life in an exotic princess, wedding her and moving to Morocco.  William and Kate were happy as they grew older together, proudly watching George and Charlotte grow into kind and beautiful young people. Only the Royal Family knew the truth.

I moved to the parlor where I lay out her Afternoon Tea: Earl Grey and a plate of raspberry pennies.  I knew when I returned promptly at 7pm, the tea, now cold, would still be there along with the raspberry pastries I had so painstakingly created. I would not be offended in the least.   

I had served as Her Majesty's Manservant now for well over fifty years.  My son would be my successor when I stepped down, and then, his son after. Our Queen would need us to help her rule from the shadows, and we would for as long as England needed her.

I watched quietly as Elizabeth stepped inside the parlor, bending to wrap her delicate fingers about the saucer and tea cup and returning to her place on the balcony.  The crowd had thinned as she sat back in the large chair placed  deep in the sheltered darkness of the awning where the sun would not shine on her. In her very advanced age, she left the Palace no longer, and her subjects did not question this.

What they did not know, is she did, once the sun set..  The Queen raised the tea to her lips briefly then rose to her feet and entered the parlor, shutting the french doors behind her. I had already prepared her feast by opening my vein, and letting the warm crimson fluid drain into a goblet. 

You see,  the Queen was gifted with a rare gift on her 90th birthday: the gift of immortality, by a Count known only for the dragon that adorned his family crest.

Long Live the Queen.