My rooms

We got out of the room and into a reception area where a nurse was sitting behind a desk. "Your Majesty," she said, standing up and looking toward James.
"Yes?" we stopped.
"I...well, as a recommendation, sir, I would advise making her look less ill. Perhaps she can act as though all is well?"
"All is not well," I thought to myself. But I didn't feel well enough to speak up.
James glanced down at me and noticed just how sickly I looked.
"Rebecca," he said gently, "do you think you can manage to walk a few halls with me, smiling and pretending like you're all right?" I trepidiously nodded, not understanding how I could manage this feat.
"When we meet someone, do as I do. If I nod, nod. If I say 'good morning,' say 'good morning.' And be sure to listen carefully to the names. I'll be sure to say 'Lord' or 'Lady' so you can repeat. I do hope we don't meet anyone, though." he turned us toward the door. "And one more thing: you always smile. So smile to whomever we see." he smiled at me and filled me with a little bit of warmth that I could feel loosen up my smiling muscles.
We headed out the door and traveled through corridors and corridors. "Buckingham Palace must be huge," I thought to myself, then chided myself for thinking that, for of course it was huge-I mean, it was a palace, for goodness' sake! We got through halls and doorways, went up staircases and down more corridors. Everytime we heard footsteps I became nervous. But it was always just a servant or a guard-the palace seemed to be full of such people. And to these people I had to merely smile and nod my head while they curtsied or bowed to us.
We got to our rooms without mishap. There were two guards, on either side of the door. We stopped in front of the door and one of the guards started to open the door. We walked inside, but right as we passed over the threshold and I thought we were safe, James stopped and turned towards the guards.
"Jimmy, John," he addressed them, "there's something you ought to know. Understand, this is strictly confidential and such but..." he glanced toward me, "she has amnesia. Completely. So if she's acting strangely, just keep others from noticing it and know that it's simply a memory fluke." The guards solemnly nodded, but in an understanding way, and I hoped they would prove to be helpful allies through this, my crisis.
James closed the door behind us and guided me to a couch. I collapsed onto it, exhausted from our long walk. I closed my eyes, trying to wake up, trying to understand, trying to remember. Something. Anything. But nothing came to mind. Meanwhile, James had gotten onto a telephone line and was apparently asking for room service. "Yes, we'll take brunch for two up here. Thank you." Some pressing of buttons, then "Yes, Lord Gregory? Yes, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you. Could you come up to my apartments? Yes, now is good. Thank you." He placed it back in his speaker and I could hear him coming towards the couch where I lay.
"Rebecca?" I made a "mm" sound so that he would know I was awake. I was too tired to talk but my brain was going into overwork mode trying to comprehend my situation.
"I'm having some food brought up. Also, Lord Gregory-he's the Private Secretary for the royal household, responsible for all of our communications with the media-is coming up for a quick chat about the situation. I hope you don't mind?" I shook my head, feeling terrible for causing this mess.
"It's not your fault," he said, as though reading my thoughts. My eyes opened and looked at him in astonishment.
He smiled, then said, "I've always been able to read your face, Rebecca, and anguish was written quite clearly when I said that he was coming. I won't tell him that, though." He grinned, obviously trying to cheer me up. I wanly smiled back, trying to give him some encouragement. But the truth was, I was too tired to care about much anything.