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1. Black Processions
Persephone Flores
The Princess had been quiet the last few days. The death of her mother, more than a month after the fact, had been announced to the Kingdom. The King had recovered, and she had relinquished her temporary crown back to her father. Today was her mother’s official funeral.
“Pet, come here,” the Princess commanded. I got up from my spot on the bed where I had sat criss-crossed, watching her carefully apply make-up at the vanity. She wore only her underwear and a blue satin dressing gown. Looking at me from the mirror as I approached her, her eyes were pools of grief.
Seeing her upset twisted my insides painfully. But I could not take away her pain. I knew grief never ended; the one who carried the pain of loss only grew more accustomed to its weight.
I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to her, my hand gripping her shoulder firmly. She turned her head and kissed my hand, smiling softly at me. She twisted on the stool to face me and pulled me down into her lap, her arms tightly around my waist. I giggled as she brought her lips to my neck and bit my flesh playfully.
“What do you think of my make-up? Is it too much?” she asked against my ear.
“Your make-up is perfect, Ma’am,” I told her, leaning back against her shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, sighing softly. “Today is not about my mother. It’s a show for the Kingdom, for our allies. The news of my mother’s murder, my father’s illness, and my attempted assassination have spread through the Kingdom and noble Houses like wildfire. Father has recovered, and the traitorous threat exterminated. Yet the events of the past months have weakened us in our allies' and enemies' eyes.”
“I don’t understand,” I told her, placing my hands over hers that held me.
“Today, we will display our strength and have an opportunity to gauge how our relationships may have been affected with our allies and our enemies,” she explained.
“Enemies? Why would you invite enemies to the Queen's funeral?” I asked.
“House Ardens is no ally, but they were my mother’s House. Valen fled the castle within hours of Vasilios’s death and has since declared that he did not know of his father’s doings and has now reaffirmed Ardens’ alliance with Borealis. Of course, he knew of his father’s treachery; this has been confirmed by Lady Sana. However, he is now Marquess of Ardens. Ardens are not a weak House in terms of friendships. Killing Vasilios was permissible during a challenge for the crown, my right as heir. Dispatching of Valen, especially after he has had time to claim his innocence publicly, is not so easy. Valen wants to continue as though nothing has changed between Ardens and Borealis. Father is willing to overlook Valen’s part in the attempt to steal the throne to keep wider relations within the Kingdom positive. I am not as forgiving,” the Princess explained before squeezing me once and releasing me from her hold.
She walked towards the closet where two garment bags hung.
The Princess dressed in a midnight blue, belted, button-front dress that hugged her curves perfectly while modestly cut, with three-quarter length sleeves and a flared hem stopping just above her ankles. She had a matching large floppy hat that partly covered her face. Even as she cast the figure of an undoubtedly grieving daughter, she was still magnificent. I wondered if it was difficult to always look so effortlessly wonderful, to be the object of desire, even during such painful times. I felt ashamed for my appreciation of her body. The Princess didn’t need me or anyone else eyeing her with lust. She needed support, whether to grieve or appear stronger than she felt.
She had insisted that I would attend the funeral with her and had selected a simple crew cut, three-quarter length sleeve, knee-length, black dress for me.
Once dressed, she pulled me by my waist, flush against her body. Her head dipped to my neck, checking her scent from my marking earlier that morning. “Percy.” She breathed warm air against my neck. “Stay by my side today, pet, no matter the company,” she told me, placing a kiss against my neck. When she pulled away, she smiled, her hand rising to my throat and thumb wiping away traces of her red lipstick.
The castle was busy with servants rushing about. Nobles and the Princess’s extended family had travelled to the castle for the service being held in the temple on the grounds. The Princess had explained that the funeral rites had taken place within three days of her mother’s death; the former Queen had already been laid to rest and a monument built upon her grave. The purpose of the day’s service was to formally acknowledge the passing and allow others the opportunity to pay respects. The service would start in the temple, followed by a symbolic procession to the Queen's burial monument.
The Borealis army and guards were stationed in the castle and throughout the grounds. A show of military power. I kept pace with the Princess as we walked through the courtyards and made our way to the temple. The temple was not dedicated to any particular God but was a place where all were free to worship. There was a large portrait of the Queen beside a podium where the King stood waiting. I sat in the front row beside the Princess. She took my hand from my lap and pulled it into her own, her fingers entwining with mine. I turned to look up at her and found her eyes already on me, a tight smile on her lips. I offered my smile of reassurance in return.
“As you are all aware, my family was attacked by one of our own. The betrayal resulted in the death of my wife Arae. The traitor - whose name will not be uttered on this day, or ever, in this temple - attempted to destroy my family and take my Kingdom. He gravely underestimated the power that resides within those of Borealis blood. Not even Hades’ Delight could harm my daughter,” the King began. From the shocked gasps of the audience, it was clear that not all details of the assassination attempt on the Princess were widely known.
“The purple veins of death had marked her. Yet she recovered within days. It was my daughter, your Princess and one day your Queen, who took the head of the traitor.” He paused, and the audience dutifully cheered. I turned to look at the Princess; she looked forward, her face a mask of indifference as if her survival of the deadliest poison known to pureblood vampires was nothing notable.
“Today is a celebration as much as it is a day of mourning. We celebrate my wife and the life she led. We celebrate what she has left us, the family she created, the daughter she gave me. Arae Borealis was the love of my life. She was taken callously and cowardly. Today we will remember her with compassion for the life she led. We will remember her bravely and not turn away from what led to her death. Never again will Borealis be blinded by bonds of family or friendship. Never again will those who seek to harm us have such an opportunity.” There was more cheering from the audience, though I thought the king’s speech was a little threatening.
The Princess offered me her arm as we walked to her mother’s burial monument. A large marble stele depicted the Queen sitting upon a throne and the King standing beside her. Offerings had been made of honey, milk and wine. They were recent. The tradition of continued offerings was not commonly practised anymore. Most didn’t believe in the gods. I wondered if the Queen did, which was why offerings were still being made. If so, was there significance to the Princess’s name?
We stood quietly, and some mourners chanted. The Princess only looked on, her face an emotionless mask.
A man walked toward us, and at first, I did not recognise him, but his walk was familiar.
“Selene, my condolences for your loss,” he spoke with a slight twitch to his crooked mouth.
“Valen,” the Princess responded; I could hear the strain in her voice.
“I see you are still holding tight to your pet,” he commented, looking at me. The way he stared at me, not speaking for a few long seconds, was unnerving. His lips twitched upward slightly on one side, and I recognised the look as disgust. I looked away from him, focusing my attention on my hands that held onto the Princess’s arm.
“What do you want, Valen?” The Princess spoke lowly, her tone anything but polite. I felt it when his stare left me.
“I want to make amends, dear cousin, to close the rift between us,” he said sweetly, and when I looked back at him, he was smirking.
