The old lord made answer:
‘I would ask your Majesty’s permission to enter the room of the late King, your Majesty’s father, for, as you are aware, it is against the law to enter the royal presence without the royal permission.’
‘You have my permission of course; but ought not some preparations to be made for the funeral?’
Lord Licec answered:
‘They are already made. For as the late King had announced his intention of dying yesterday at half-past six P.M., there was ample time.’
‘Let us then go together to the room, my lord,’ said the Princess.
So they went together, the Princess leaning on Licec’s arm, and the Owl sitting on her shoulder.
The guards of the room saluted as they passed in, but what was their astonishment on entering to find that the King had disappeared. When they asked the guards who had come into the room during the day, they replied that no one had been near the room during their watch, and the guards of the watch before said exactly the same thing. All over the palace inquiries were made, but to no purpose, and the rumour gradually spread to the town, and throngs of anxious citizens flocked about the palace gates to ask, but neither they nor any one else ever heard what had become of him, and it is my opinion that the King himself is the only person who knew anything about it. It came out in the course of inquiries that when the attendants had rushed in on hearing the Princess’s call for assistance the night before, they had not seen the King on the bed, but in his place had sat an enormous owl, and this owl had insisted on accompanying the Princess wherever she went.