Charmed

Chapter Twenty Five

"Black is for mourning," Lisa reminded me as I chose the dress that I would be wearing today.

"I know," I said, taking the dress from her hands. I didn't bother using a changing board anymore - the only people who saw me undress were Lisa and Darius. Lisa and I hadn't been awarded the luxury of a changing board in our small servant chambers, and Darius had seen more of me than anyone else.

"You're not going to mourn their deaths, are you?" Lisa asked quickly. "Gwen, they tried to kill you. Twice. They almost succeeded both times. They've tortured you for months."

"I know!" I repeated, whirling round to face her. My hair flew furiously with me, the material of the black dress whipping my legs. "But two people are still going to lose their lives. One of them is a dear friend's daughter. So, if not for me, I'm showing respect for him."

Lisa didn't respond. She simply nodded and waited for the time when she helped me tie my corset up. I wound my hair into a ponytail, adding a small braid into the mass of hair that fell down my back. I left my face bare of makeup and headed down the stairs to Darius' office. He was sat at his desk, waiting for me. 

I popped my head sheepishly around the open door and smiled. "Hi."

He grinned at me as I walked inside. He, too, was dressed all in black. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you." I flushed a deep red. I don't think I would ever stop blushing when he called me that. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Otis should be arriving soon."

"Is your mother joining us?"

"No, and neither is Claude," he informed me, taking my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Although she'll probably watch from her window like we used to as children."

I had forgotten that Claude's bedchamber window overlooked the courtyard while Darius' bedchamber was given a luscious view of the fields. 

Otis had replied to Darius' letter within one day of receiving it, stating that he agreed with the sentences given and that he would be attending the execution. Although no funeral would be held for Taylor or Kane, Otis would be taking his daughter's body back to Bourbon to bury her on the castle grounds.

Once we reached the courtyard, a guard placed a crown on Darius' head that he had to wear during official matters. They then placed a smaller one onto mine, like usual. I knew it was necessary, but it felt like I was being forced to balance a bag of flour on the top of my head. The gems gleamed in the summer sun, the breeze warm and calm.

I had to refrain from gasping at Otis' appearance when he climbed from his carriage. He had lost a remarkable amount of weight, his clothes not fitting him correctly. The dark circles that shadowed his eyes looked worse than ever. His hair was dishevelled, and he hadn't shaven in a long while. Still, as soon as he saw me and Darius, he embraced us in a tight hug and gave us a smile.

"Hello, my friends," he said. His voice was shrouded in sadness.

"Hello, Otis," Darius said, clapping his shoulder in a manly way.

I rolled my eyes and hugged the depressed king once more. "I am so sorry about the circumstances that brought you here."

"As am I, my dear. As am I." Otis patted my shoulder as we pulled away from one another.

"How are things in Bourbon?" Darius asked.

Otis' face changed, and I knew that that was the wrong question to have asked. "People no longer think I am fit to be king. They're whispering that because I have a traitor daughter, I, too, must be a traitor."