Diana Of Alcotta (Yrsoreth Chronicles 1)

44 ♔ The Lion and the Flower

Happy Valentine's Day.
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One of his favorite mornings was waking up to the sound of waves. The ocean does not fear nor worship anyone. It would crash and crawl, with the sound of splashing small waves, carried even into his room.

Then, he would wake up, associating the sound to an image of a black-haired woman, steering the wheel with the eyes of a seamaster.

Once, or maybe many times, he considered staying at the island as he ruled. So as, someday, when Hudithe II would return with the beautiful woman, he would be there waiting.

Ysivan and his trusted vassals were competent. But they'd die of overwork and resurrect, to pester him to return to the capital. Most of all, the farther he is, the bolder the people with hidden horns would be.

Two weeks wouldn't matter much, as Diana requested. One week already passed, with nothing but making a fool of himself and watching her swallow a lump of laughter back into her throat. It was already a week of her walls cracking down, but then building up again.

Ysivan sent him the documents and he could do the same. He'd been away longer during wars. Although he could just leave her with the knights and go on with his duties in the capital, it was never an option.

The black-haired woman returned, why would he leave?

And so, he would have another two weeks being resurrected from slumber with the sound of waves. It was the same that morning, but it also came with news.

Bastian was not awakened.

Dr. Topenhagen even confirmed that the old butler probably passed away in his sleep, based on the body's condition. Just after the doctor declared death, there was silence. Everyone waited for his command about the burial, but Xander looked at Diana standing beside the bowl of untouched soup by the bedside table. Her face was calm, waiting for his command as well, but her knuckles clutching her red flowy sundress were white and trembling.

She had always been like that. He remembered he used to admire her useful qualities as a great pawn. The thought disgusted him now.

In Gran Dacchian tradition, the dead are burned, but he does not consider himself the master of the manor. The beloved owner was now a Levichian. "It's up to you, Baroness."

Calmly, she asked, "May I burn him and keep his ashes in the residence?"

Commonly, only the master's ashes were kept in the house in thought that they will protect the family. Commoners' remains were scattered to the winds in hopes that it will bless the lands for fertility and harvest. Diana's stepbrother Michael, was thrown in the sea and no one batted an eye, because nobody honored him.

"Don't ask for my permission, Diana. This is not my home. And he is your family."

By the mentioned word, Diana bit her lip and took a deep breath. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you very much."

In the next few hours, the extended house of the manor was filled with people coming, going, and staying to pay respect to Bastian. As per tradition, the body will be cremated early morning the next day and his ashes are kept in the manor.

The whole time, Xander watched Diana comfort the mourners and held reins of servants like the true master of Alcotta. He watched her frame afar and didn't offer any words of condolence. It was also not the time to offer a shoulder to lean on and that tells her it was normal to cry.