Winter at Sandringham House felt quieter than usual.
A thin layer of snow covered the vast gardens surrounding the house. The trees stood still, their branches like dark lines against the grey winter sky.
Inside, the family gathered as they always did.
Since the announcement of the engagement a few weeks earlier, the atmosphere at Sandringham had often been filled with conversations about wedding plans and preparations.
The marriage between Prince Albert Victor and Mary of Teck was planned for late February.
Not much time.
But for a royal family, a grand wedding could always be arranged quickly.
One afternoon, Mary sat in a small room overlooking the gardens. In her hands were several letters of congratulations she had just received.
Many of them came from royal families across Europe.
She read each letter carefully, trying to grow accustomed to her new role.
The future wife of the heir to the throne—who would one day become queen beside her husband.
Yet her thoughts often returned to something far simpler.
Eddy.
He had always been kind to her since their engagement. Not particularly romantic, perhaps—but kind.
The sound of a servant's footsteps in the corridor made her look up. A moment later, the door opened.
"Her Majesty requests that Lady Mary come to the family room," the servant said.
Mary rose and followed as directed.
When she entered the room, she immediately felt that the atmosphere had changed.
Alexandra of Denmark stood near the fireplace, her face filled with concern.
Nearby sat George V, who looked far more serious than usual.
"May," Alexandra said softly.
Mary stepped closer.
"Has something happened?"
Alexandra hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Eddy is feeling unwell this morning."
Mary frowned slightly.
"Is it only a cold?"
"The doctor is examining him."
For a moment, no one spoke.
George rose from his chair.
Though he had only recently recovered from a severe case of typhoid fever, his face still appeared somewhat pale.
"The doctor says many people are suffering from influenza," he said quietly.
The illness had indeed been spreading across England. But most people still considered it nothing more than a common winter sickness.
Mary tried to steady herself.
Eddy had always seemed healthy.
Just a few days earlier, he had been speaking with enthusiasm about their wedding preparations.
"May I see him?" Mary asked.
Alexandra gently shook her head.
"The doctor advises that he must rest."
Mary nodded, though a sense of unease settled within her.
Outside the window, snow began to fall again, slowly.
The day felt colder than before.
No one in that room truly realized that the illness, which seemed so ordinary, would soon become something far more serious.
That within a matter of days, all of Sandringham would be filled with worry.
And that the winter of 1892 would leave a wound that would never truly fade from their lives.