The King became increasingly preoccupied with laying in bed only to be attended by many nameless, faceless serving wenches from far and near who tripped over themselves serving steaming bowls of toenail soup, and fought among themselves for the honor of whispering the sirens song in his ear.
Everything is fine M’Lord, one whispered in his ear, There’s plenty of food for the table. Even I don’t need much to eat. Have another bowl of soup. I’ve fixed it just for you. Only you M’Lord, matter to me.
Another prattled on day and night, I have found my true nature serving you. I was born to serve you and only you. Your wish is my command. But can we keep the royal drapes closed? The light of day hurts my tender eyes.
Living by candlelight in the confines of the Royal Bedroom where the Royal Drapes were never opened, he could not see the barren fields filled with weeds. Living in the Royal bedroom with food and sweets brought to him, he stopped roaming the Great Hall or Royal Kitchen. He did not see rats chewing the stuffing from his throne, the thieves who came in the back door to raid the larder, and the tattered clothes of his devoted servants once dressed in the finery he proclaimed they deserved.
When his closet advisers, trusted friends, respected servants and devout Maidens implored him to leave his bed and part the Royal Drapes to see for himself what had become of his beloved Kingdom, he rejected their truths and roared in anger:
Someone speaks untruths to me. I will not stand for lies and deceit. My serving wenches assure me everything is fine. They should know, they attend me night and day.
It is YOU who lie to me.
And it came to pass that only after only a few short years, The Kingdom lay in ruins.